KEY POINTS:
Arrogance is one of those words that beg the company of a qualifier, in this case, "breathtaking". Certainly both belong, together and separately, to the scandal of Eliot Spitzer, the Governor of New York and his reckless detours into the world of high-class prostitution. But no words, in
any combination, suffice to make sense of his actions.
Just read, if you have the stomach, the affidavit widely available online detailing the alleged events of February 13 inside Room 871 at the swanky Mayflower Hotel in Washington, close to the White House. He, sources have confirmed, is Client 9. She was Kristen, young, brunette and 5ft 5ins (1.68m), and quite sanguine about this john's reputation for activities "you might not think safe". He had reserved four hours with her. He used only half that. Who could make this stuff up?
Or watch again that 67-second appearance of Spitzer before the press on Tuesday, just after the tale first broke on the website of the New York Times. It is Silda, his wife of 21 years, you will most pay attention to, and their three daughters, aged 17, 15 and 13. How dare these disgraced politicians always demand that their wronged wives stand beside them to share their humiliation? The cruelty astounds.
Only human, are the kindest words we might manage for Spitzer today. Humans have flaws such as arrogance. Most who have known Spitzer over the years would say it has been with him for ever, the spoiled kid from an immigrant family made rich from property dealings. His other fault: extreme intelligence - Yale, Harvard - which, in turn, fed that arrogance. And arrogance breeds recklessness.
All those qualities served Spitzer, 48, exceptionally well when he was New York's Attorney-General for two terms. The "Sheriff of Wall Street" took no hostages, hunting down rule-benders in the financial industry, whether individuals or institutions. Banks, brokerage houses, insurance giants, all caved to his crusading zeal, begging to cut deals to avoid the embarrassment of prosecution.
Did we mention ambition? No one was surprised that Spitzer would eventually seek to parlay his success as the state's senior prosecutor to seek its governorship in 2006. He really was a popular hero who won the vote with almost 70 per cent, a historic mandate in New York by any standards. That surely fed his arrogance too.
"I am a f***king steamroller," he famously told one politician in Albany, the state capital, on taking office. He would get his way on everything and no one had better stand in his way.
Still, most New Yorkers were simply dumbfounded by Tuesday's news, at least for a while.
As word of it swirled through the halls of Albany, many thought it was a joke. Not him, it can't be. At first, all we were told was that he had been "involved" with a prostitution ring. What did it mean? Before long, that affidavit surfaced and much more became clear. The ring was called the Emperor's Club VIP. It offered call-girls to the rich, sometimes for US$5500 ($6845) an hour in places as far apart as New York, Los Angeles and London. And four of those who allegedly ran it had been arrested by federal officials a few days before.
We began to surmise that the night of February 13, the eve of Valentine's Day, almost certainly was not the only time Spitzer had availed himself of its services. This is when that other question popped up, as it always does in these cases. What made him think he could get away with it?
No one knows the law like Spitzer. Good Lord, didn't he target not just corporate crime as Attorney-General but prostitution rackets also? He busted at least two call-girl rings in those years, one based in Staten Island. Did he learn nothing?
But Spitzer was careless beyond belief, and set his own trap months ago.
LET'S change the scenery and leave the gilded elegance of the Mayflower for a moment and focus instead on a nondescript three-storey building on Long Island across the road from a Dunkin' Donuts.
Inside are offices belonging to the Internal Revenue Service, used specifically by inspectors trained to spot bank transfers that seem suspicious. Last year, they had a tip-off from a bank about dealings which fell exactly under that category, and the name attached to them was none other than Eliot Spitzer.
It appeared he was regularly transmitting large sums to entities the inspectors quickly discovered were nothing but shell companies. Companies, in other words, that did not actually do anything. The alarm bells sounded instantly.
Because of the political profile of the holder of these funds, special permission had to be sought from the US Attorney-General to proceed. The green light was given. The assumption at first was that Spitzer was embroiled in some sort of financial skullduggery, corruption perhaps or a bribery scam.
It occurred to no one that prostitution was involved. But it didn't take long for the truth to surface, as the investigators began to tie the shell corporations, identified as QAT Consulting, QAT International and Protech Consulting, to the Emperor's Club in New Jersey.
The affidavit is replete with details of how the night with Kristen was set up, and even how it eventually went down inside Room 871, gleaned from wiretaps of calls, emails and texts.
A first conversation dated February 12 is between Client 9 and Temeka Lewis, allegedly the booking agent for the Emperor's Club and among the four arrested last Friday. It is about money and her concern that a "package" expected from him had not arrived. The package is assumed by agents to be a deposit. Had he sent it to QAT as agreed? "Yup, same as in past," the client replies. "No question about it." Next come communications between Lewis and Kristen suggesting she be ready to leave New York the next day at about 4.45pm by train to Washington, "if DC appt happens".
All is a go later that day after Lewis learns that the "package" has indeed arrived. The client has already told her of his plans to book a room at the hotel. He has also inquired as to who would be coming. Told it would be Kristen, he says, "Great, OK, wonderful."
IT IS the day of the appointment when he asks to be reminded of her looks. She is "an American, petite, very pretty brunette, 5ft 5ins, and 105 pounds," is the reply. They also agree he will cover all costs, train and taxi fares, minibar and room service too if required. And her time. There is also a discussion about giving US$2721 directly to Kristen to cover a balance still owed plus a bit more, apparently for future appointments. Client 9 suggests an additional US$1000 if he can find a cash machine with enough money. Lewis indicates that US$1500 would be better.
Spitzer informs Lewis that Kristen should go directly to Room 871 - which he has booked in the name of a friend and political donor, George Fox - and bypass reception. She will arrive first and he will leave the door ajar with the key just inside. Kristen was also instructed by Lewis to text her when she arrived and again when the assignation was over.
In fact, the affidavit suggests, Kristen called Lewis upon completion of her duties at 12.02am. They discussed Client 9's reputation for being "difficult" because of his habit of asking the girls to "do things that you might not think were safe". Kristen had no problems. "I have a way of dealing with that," she responded. "I mean, it's just kind of like ... whatever ... I'm here for a purpose. I know what my purpose is. I am not a ... moron, you know what I mean."
The moron in this case appears to have been someone else. Arrogance and recklessness both apply here, qualities that left Spitzer notably short on friends and allies in his moment of greatest need.
And, of course, there is that other sin that has brought down so many other public figures before him: lust.
- INDEPENDENT
