Wednesday, November 02, 2011
 
sponsored by

William Cellini guilty of extortion, aiding bribery

Send a link to a friend

(Originally posted Tuesday)

[November 02, 2011] CHICAGO -- A multimillionaire who wielded behind-the-scenes influence with Illinois politicians for decades was convicted Tuesday of conspiring to shake down the Oscar-winning producer of "Million Dollar Baby," one of the last chapters of the legal saga tied to disgraced former Gov. Rod Blagojevich

Businessman William Cellini was known in political circles as the King of Clout because of top-tier contacts with successive Illinois governors of different parties and even a few U.S. presidents.

Cellini, convicted of conspiring to commit extortion and soliciting a bribe, was the last person scheduled to go on trial as part of the federal investigation of Blagojevich. He faces up to 30 years in prison.

Prosecutors said Cellini, a Springfield Republican, joined Blagojevich confidants Tony Rezko and Chris Kelly and another man in 2004 to pressure Hollywood executive Thomas Rosenberg for a $1.5 million donation to the Blagojevich campaign. If he refused, prosecutors said, the group threatened to pull strings to ensure that $220 million in state pension funds earmarked for Rosenberg's investment firm would be withheld.

A straight-faced Cellini tapped his folded hands at the edge of the defense table as the verdict was read, otherwise showing little emotion. On a spectator's bench nearby, his daughter's lips quivered. Cellini did not speak as he left the courthouse.

As it had with others, it was Cellini's association with Blagojevich that drew him into legal peril. He stood trial in the same courtroom where the impeached Democratic governor was convicted four months ago of a raft of charges, including seeking to sell or trade an appointment to President Barack Obama's vacated Senate seat.

The Chicago trial was a rare stint in the limelight for Cellini, who never became a household name despite his wealth and the influence he wielded that led to other monikers like the pope of Illinois politics. Putting someone of his stature on trial would, reform advocates had hoped, serve as a warning to businessmen or politicians to keep their noses clean -- or else.

During her closing arguments, prosecutor Julie Porter played a secret FBI wiretap recording to jurors of a mirthful-sounding Cellini as he appeared to talk about the extortion. Porter focused jurors' attention on one sound: Cellini's laugh.

"That is what corruption sounds like," the prosecutor said, her voice suddenly rising.

Cellini wouldn't have pocketed any money from the shakedown. But by going along with it, he saw a chance to further ingratiate himself with the powers that be, Porter said. The payoff he hoped for? "Continued access, continued clout, continued status."

[to top of second column]

Defense attorney Dan Webb said Cellini got suckered into the plot, ending up "the ham in a ham sandwich."

"The defendant is not an accidental extortionist," said lead prosecutors Chris Niewoehner. He added later, "The ham doesn't know he's in the ham sandwich?"

The defense focused on the government's star witness -- the fourth man in the plot -- Stuart Levine. A board member on the $30 billion Teachers' Retirement System that controlled the pension funds Rosenberg hoped to reinvest, Levine was the only witness to claim direct knowledge of Cellini's involvement. Rezko is in federal custody and did not testify. Kelly committed suicide in 2009.

There was no lack of ammunition with which to attack Levine's credibility.

On the stand, he admitted to being a serial swindler, once cheating his dead friend's estate out of $2 million. He spoke about abusing cocaine and other drugs for decades -- sometimes at marathon parties.

Webb implored jurors not to heed that testimony, saying, "All you have is Levine's word -- which is worthless."

Cellini, the son of a policeman, played piano in a dance band and taught high school physics before planting his foot firmly in the door of state government with an appointment as Illinois' transportation secretary in the early 1970s. Thereafter, he devoted himself to business -- parlaying his state links to help earn tens of millions from real estate, casino and other ventures.

Outwardly affable, Cellini gained a reputation for his business savvy, hard work and sure-footedness -- but also as someone to avoid crossing, someone who could make or break a person's career with a phone call.

[Associated Press; By MICHAEL TARM}

Associated Press writer Karen Hawkins contributed to this report.

Copyright 2011 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.

< Top Stories index

Back to top


 

News | Sports | Business | Rural Review | Teaching and Learning | Home and Family | Tourism | Obituaries

Community | Perspectives | Law and Courts | Leisure Time | Spiritual Life | Health and Fitness | Teen Scene
Calendar | Letters to the Editor