It’s the Ides of March — the hour of Caesar’s reckoning. The perfect day to believe there are knives under the togas, to allege plots of political assassination. Some eight months after his arrest in a bribery sting, this is the date that former Assemblyman/political journeyman Lou Manzo has chosen to confront his assailants.
Sometime in the mid to late afternoon on the second day of deliberations, after about nine cumulative hours of discussion, the jury reached a verdict in the case of Leona Beldini.
It should be said that the most pivotal, least interesting people in this entire trial (perhaps any trial) have been its jurors. They are a broken scoreboard. They don’t ‘Ooh’ or ‘Aah,’ and they barely show any emotion. That might be because they’re good bluffers and they don’t want to give anything away. It might be because they’re not paying attention or they’re thinking about something else.
There is one lesser-noted detail from the footage displayed at the federal corruption trial of Leona Beldini. It’s the time she tried to sell the sausage factory. And no, that’s not a figure of speech.
One of the most stunning revelations from the five days of testimony by Solomon Dwek is his ignorance of the system in which he has wreaked so much havoc. Few professional politicians have ended as many promising careers as Mr. Dwek has, and yet a tenth-grade civics class probably has a better handle on government than he does.
The second week of Beldini’s federal corruption trial began on Monday with The Bow Tie (née: Brian J. Neary) leading the sacred ritual of defense in his much anticipated cross-examination of the government’s busy-bodied mole, Solomon Dwek.
Maybe it was a couple of extra handshakes. Or bending down to pick up that quarter he dropped. Could’ve been the moment he waited for the car to pass until he crossed the street. What’s clear is this: a few seconds on April 30, 2009 saved Jerramiah Healy’s ass. Otherwise, he might no longer be mayor of Jersey City.
New Jerseyans are more likely to acquit the arsonist of a children’s hospital than an indicted politician. Give a taxpayer the chance to soak a pol, and I’ll show you somebody who’s about to get wet. Still, Leona Beldini wouldn’t take a plea. And in the face of secret audio tapes, secret video tapes and the not-so-secret disgust of the citizenry, she goes to trial. Now it depends on how good her lawyer is.