From Paul Muolo's column "What We're Hearing" in this past weekend's National Mortgage News:
Well, it looks as though former Fannie Mae officials won't be doing a
'perp walk' after all. In case you were at the beach this past week, the
Department of Justice informed the Congressionally chartered mortgage
giant that it has discontinued its investigation of the GSE in regard to its
$10.6 billion accounting scandal. No criminal charges will be brought against
the company at all. The obvious question is this: does that mean charges might
be brought against any individuals, as in former top officers? DOJ will not
confirm or deny that any individuals were ever the subject of a criminal probe
in the case. And if the "accounting side" of the investigation has been
discontinued that would imply that no charges will be brought whatsoever against
individuals. In other words, former chairman and CEO Franklin Raines, and
former chief financial officer Timothy Howard can start sleeping at night
again. Of course, DOJ is still investigating whether the two men perjured
themselves before Congress in the fall of 2004 when they denied manipulating
accounting rules to make earnings targets. By dropping the probe does that mean
DOJ believes that no manipulation occurred? Or was it "civil" manipulation
versus, say, "criminal" manipulation. Whatever the case, DOJ's decision to
scuttle the investigation can be viewed as a major victory for Messrs. Raines
and Howard. Their contention that the whole accounting mess was merely a
disagreement over arcane FASB rules no longer looks so suspect. It also could
hurt civil cases being brought against the company. Stay tuned...
I have no inside (or even outside) information on whether or not Franklin Raines or Timothy Howard will ever face criminal charges for their part in the Fannie Mae accounting scandal. However, as reported by Bloomberg News and others late last week, "the SEC is still weighing civil charges against individuals," so their wallets are still at risk if not their liberty. Also, as I discussed a couple of months ago, Franklin Raines has been accused by at least one U.S. Congressman of having perjured himself in testimony before the House. I agree with Mr. Muolo that it's looking less likely that fraud charges will be brought by the DOJ, but I'm not ready to throw in the towel on that possibility yet, and even less so regarding perjury charges, if Congress wants to push it. It's perhaps merely wishful thinking on my part. After all, Congress couldn't nail Raphael Palmeiro for testifying "I have never used steroids. Period" six weeks before he failed a steroids test. If they can't bring that guy to justice, then Raines may very well skate.
Perjury's a tough crime to prove. There was one guy I read about some years back who claimed in the course of a videotaped deposition that he never had sexual relations with a particular woman when, in fact, he'd had not only relations with the woman but with a cigar that had kept company with her. Waste of a good cigar, if you ask me, but regardless, it caused some kind of hoopla or another, Congress got involved, but they couldn't make the case stick. At least, that's what I recall, although the details are murky.
I think that case proved two things: (1) Even if you lie on camera, your best course may be to brazen it out; and (2) when forced to choose between a bad woman and a good cigar, the answer is not always obvious, even to a perjurer.
THE BETROTHED
---Rudyard Kipling
"You must choose between me and your cigar."
BREACH OF PROMISE CASE, CIRCA 1885.
Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout,
For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out.
We quarrelled about Havanas — we fought o’er a good cheroot,
And I knew she is exacting, and she says I am a brute.
Open the old cigar-box — let me consider a space;
In the soft blue veil of the vapour musing on Maggie’s face.
Maggie is pretty to look at — Maggie’s a loving lass,
But the prettiest cheeks must wrinkle, the truest of loves must pass.
There’s peace in a Larranaga, there’s calm in a Henry Clay;
But the best cigar in an hour is finished and thrown away –
Thrown away for another as perfect and ripe and brown –
But I could not throw away Maggie for fear o’ the talk o’ the town!
Maggie, my wife at fifty — grey and dour and old –
With never another Maggie to purchase for love or gold!
And the light of Days that have Been the dark of the Days that Are,
And Love’s torch stinking and stale, like the butt of a dead cigar –
The butt of a dead cigar you are bound to keep in your pocket –
With never a new one to light tho’ it’s charred and black to the socket!
Open the old cigar-box — let me consider a while.
Here is a mild Manila — there is a wifely smile.
Which is the better portion — bondage bought with a ring,
Or a harem of dusky beauties, fifty tied in a string?
Counsellors cunning and silent — comforters true and tried,
And never a one of the fifty to sneer at a rival bride?
Thought in the early morning, solace in time of woes,
Peace in the hush of the twilight, balm ere my eyelids close,
This will the fifty give me, asking nought in return,
With only a Suttee’s passion — to do their duty and burn.
This will the fifty give me. When they are spent and dead,
Five times other fifties shall be my servants instead.
The furrows of far-off Java, the isles of the Spanish Main,
When they hear my harem is empty will send me my brides again.
I will take no heed to their raiment, nor food for their mouths withal,
So long as the gulls are nesting, so long as the showers fall.
I will scent ‘em with best vanilla, with tea will I temper their hides,
And the Moor and the Mormon shall envy who read of the tale of my brides.
For Maggie has written a letter to give me my choice between
The wee little whimpering Love and the great god Nick o’ Teen.
And I have been servant of Love for barely a twelvemonth clear,
But I have been Priest of Cabanas a matter of seven year;
And the gloom of my bachelor days is flecked with the cheery light
Of stums that I burned to Friendship and Pleasure and Work and Fight.
And I turn my eyes to the future that Maggie and I must prove,
But the only light on the marshes is the Will-o’-the-Wisp of Love.
Will it see me safe through my journey or leave me bogged in the mire?
Since a puff of tobacco can cloud it, shall I follow the fitful fire?
Open the old cigar-box — let me consider anew –
Old friends, and who is Maggie that I should abandon you?
A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke;
And a woman is only a woman, but a good Cigar is a Smoke.
Light me another Cuba — I hold to my first-sworn vows.
If Maggie will have no rival, I’ll have no Maggie for Spouse!