The Oath with Chuck Rosenberg
Pat Fitzgerald: The Right Thing
Chuck Rosenberg: Pat Fitzgerald, welcome to the Oath.
Patrick Fitzgerald: Thank you. Glad to be here.
Rosenberg: I’m glad you’re here. I know you grew up in Brooklyn, family of four children, Mom and Dad. Tell me a little bit about them if you don’t mind.
Fitzgerald: It was your classic immigrant family. So, my father immigrated from Ireland at 31. He went to school up to the sixth grade, and then worked on a farm in County Clare, Ireland until he was 31 and immigrated over to the US and became a citizen eventually.
Rosenberg: What made him come over at 31?
Fitzgerald: Looking for work, a future that he wouldn’t have back in Ireland. And then my mother sighed. I’m actually both first and second generation, oddly. My grandfather came over and immigrated to Cleveland, married my grandmother in Cleveland. She came from Ireland as well. He fought in World War One for the Fighting Irish, left for dead in the battlefield, but survived. And then remarkably, after the war, decided to return to Ireland. He and my grandmother were probably the only two passengers going the other way in 1920, or so. So, he went back to Ireland where my mother was born. So, she was actually a dual citizen. Growing up on a farm in Ireland, similarly, she left at 17, she only got to go to sixth grade as well and she came over here. And the one thing I think she was determined to do when she got here, was to make sure her kids got an opportunity for an education.
Rosenberg: So what kind of work did your parents do?
Fitzgerald: So, my dad worked in construction when he first came over and then later on after I was born the jobs and–my dad to have included being a warehouse man out in Queens. He was a security guard at the 1963 World’s Fair, in Flushing. He worked as a doorman and elevator operator, and so, most of the time during my life, before my dad retired, he was a doorman in the Upper East Side of Manhattan.
Rosenberg: Did your siblings go to college?
Fitzgerald: Yeah. Every one of the kids went to at least one level of school beyond college.
Rosenberg: Your parents must have been extraordinarily proud. My dad never went to college. My mom went many, many years later and became a nurse after her kids. My sisters and I all had gone to college
Fitzgerald: The way I would describe my father, was he was as straightforward a person as you can imagine. He just went to work and made sure he got to work on time. If his shift started at 8, he would leave there to be at least an hour early, sometimes an hour and a half early. So, he taught me if your doorman shift starts at 8:00, you will be dressed and ready to go by 7:00 in case the subway breaks down or something else. And always told me you know you go to a job never late, show up an hour early so they know you’re ready to work. And he viewed his role as making sure that he could do what he could to put food on the table and take care of the family. And my mother, who had worked sometimes, but mostly took care of the kids, which was a pretty big job, and a challenge at times, was a firm believer in education, and she was to make sure that we went to school did our best. Went to the best high school we could and went to college, and so she was a driving force and my father would do whatever he understood was necessary to be done to make that all happen. That’s why we all went to school. I would describe one thing my mother did that I’m forever grateful, but was entirely mortified by, when I was in eighth grade, I was looking to go to high school. And there’s a great school I eventually went to: Regis High School, which I think is the best high school in the country. It was endowed by an anonymous millionaire in around 1914, or so who wrote a check to a priest who said: send young Catholic boys of limited means to this high school for free, and that school has never charged a penny of tuition in more than a century for anyone and it is now being supported largely by alumni donations. When I took the test for that school, I did not make the cut. The first three hundred who would get in to be interviewed and one hundred and fifty would be let in roughly. They had done well at other schools, and so my mother first thought I’d take the test because I want to go to another school, so that was probably my first opportunity as an advocate to defend myself. And then she said you had to pick up the phone and ask them why you didn’t get in. And I was a short skinny eighth grader whose voice hadn’t changed, incredibly shy, and so I picked up that phone off the wall and dialed that rotary phone with my mother standing there to make sure I did this, mortified that I’m going to ask the admissions director of a high school why I didn’t get in. And so, I found the deftest way to ask, was to say I was just sad that I didn’t make the cut, and I wonder if you could give me some guidance as to whether I messed up the English part of test, or the math part of the test. I could frame it as a question, rather than as a protest. The priest, who was on the other end of the phone, said: let me have your name. And then he quickly said: oh, there’s been a terrible mistake. We sent you the wrong letter, and so come on in for an interview. My mother reminded me of that for many, many years afterward. And despite that being a mortifying experience, it was the best thing ever happened to me because I went to a wonderful school with wonderful people and opportunities I don’t think I would have otherwise had.
Rosenberg: From there, Amherst College and then Harvard Law School.
Fitzgerald: Yes. And my experience at Amherst was also very formative. I love the place, and I went–it was a very different atmosphere than being from Regis.
Rosenberg: And did you go directly from amorous to Harvard Law School?
Fitzgerald: Yes, I worked a summer as a janitor in York City public schools in between, but graduated in May from Amherst to Harvard in September.
Rosenberg: At what point did you know you wanted to be a lawyer?
Fitzgerald: I went to law school, and I started having my doubts mid law school, whether or not I wanted to be a lawyer. And I do remember interning at the U.S. attorney’s office in Boston as part of my internship in, I think, my third year. And I remember walking around with Assistant U.S. Attorneys and watching the cases they worked on. I remember one involved the Hells Angels motorcycle gang. One involved people shipping guns to the IRA and a trawler from Boston. And I remember literally running into a mobster in the hallway. He was coming out of a courtroom and AUSA asked me for some legal research, and I basically was running in to get him some cases that he needed. And this little man bumped into me and I said: Excuse me? I went in the courtroom, and the AUSA chuckled, and said: do you realize who you just nearly knocked over? And I think it was a ranking mobster in the New England crime family. And I thought to myself: wow what a great job. I will say this: when you grew up in Brooklyn, your parents are immigrants, and you get to go to school, you think: well, I will go out and get the best paying job that I could. That’s success. And there, I thought you know I’d love to do that job someday if I could, that just seems like really interesting and rewarding. That’s when I decided I wanted to be a prosecutor after working at a firm for a couple of years
Rosenberg: We were both blessed, I had wonderful parents. My dad, somehow with no college education, worked in credibly hard so that my two sisters and I could go to college and come out without debt, which is what enabled me to become a prosecutor. And when I think of all the gifts that my parents gave us, that’s right at the top.
Fitzgerald: I luckily graduated with very little debt. Amherst had a very generous financial aid system as an even more generous system now, and the ability to have people graduate from great schools with no debt is a wonderful gift to them, but it also enables people to dedicate themselves to some form of public service or public interest, which I think is a larger good than something that we need to pay attention to.
Rosenberg: Which U.S. attorney hired you?
Fitzgerald: I was hired by Rudy Giuliani to the end of his term.
Rosenberg: When was that?
Fitzgerald: Late 1988, I started Labor Day 1988.
Rosenberg: How do you like that job, Pat?
Fitzgerald: I loved it. It was both very exciting. It was stressful. Hard working fun and you felt like you were doing the right thing and you get to work on cases and felt like your job was to do the right thing which doesn’t mean you’re perfect at figuring out what the right thing is. But it’s a very laudable goal.
Rosenberg: I heard that you tried your first case with a guy named Jim Comey.
Fitzgerald: I did.
Rosenberg: Jim was a year senior too. So, he’s first chair your second chair.
Fitzgerald: Yes.
Rosenberg: He’s mentor, your mentee.
Fitzgerald: Exactly. And Jim and I knew each other because my Regis High School classmate and Amherst college roommate: John Goggins, was Jim’s law school roommate and friend. So, that’s how I came to know him before we were both in the office together. And it was a funny trial in the sense that made some really boneheaded mistakes. One of the things, was to cross-examine the defendant, who took the stand about her tone of voice on tape because it didn’t at all sound like she’s being pressured into anything. And the real issue was whether or not she had been entrapped by an informant, and sort of talked into engaging in a drug transaction because she showed up to engage in a drug transaction. So, I was getting up here to cross-examine her, playing the tape was key. There was some strategy here, and don’t sell me short here. So, what I first had to do was have her oversell and say, you know basically, like, someone put a gun to my head, otherwise I would have done the transaction. So, I get up there and I say so you weren’t really willing to do this transaction were you until so-and-so came along and talked you into it. And I think she, she basically said: well I wouldn’t say you exactly put a gun to my head. I should have just sat down. But this is my first trial and again this is cross-examination, that must go for half an hour. Then she breaks down and cries. So instead of taking a gift that I just told you everything you needed to know, I ploughed on to try to make sure I could get her to say she was forced into doing it even though she didn’t. And I had my “aha” moment to say: well, why don’t we listen to your voice on tape and see how much you were pressured into it. I then hit the button on the tape recorder. And nothing happened. I then thought well maybe it’s something wrong here I checked all the plugs. Now I’m sweating bullets or out of courtrooms. My first trial I can’t get a darn tape recorder to make a noise. I later figured out that somehow in the process, someone brushed against it, and one of the switches on the back out of the way from AC to DC or something like that had brushed against it. So, we had tested it played it out it all should work. And just sat there completely baffled. I think we came up with some really weak excuse like, I think there’s been a power failure and we’re in a room that’s as brightly lit as a 7-Eleven, so saying I think there’s been a power failure as people could put sunglasses on, didn’t make a whole lot of sense. And then as it turned out, I then decided well okay I’ll feature this in my summation. I’ll get up there and I’ll say just listen to this voice. So, I did. I said compelling closing argument building to a crescendo of saying: now just listen to this tape. Unfortunately, my crescendo was hitting about one minute before lunch, and the judge was insistent on going to lunch, and he said: we’ll stop there, we’re breaking for lunch, they don’t need to hear the tape. If they wanted, they can ask for it. So, my second dramatic moment fizzled away. The jury went out to deliberate, and the first note said can we hear the tape. They listened to the tape and they convicted. So I now in retrospect describe that as a brilliant strategy: fail at playing the tape, mistime it before lunch, and build the dramatic interest into what happened.
Rosenberg: I like your cover story. I’m not sure I credit it.
Fitzgerald: Yeah, I wouldn’t neither. That was the first verdict I took. And it was February 14th of 1989, it’s Valentine’s Day. And that’s when it came home to me that this person is now going to prison. And while the purpose of the trial was to prove that she was guilty, and she was in fact guilty, and it was proven, and then it comes home to you that this is a sad event at the end of what would be viewed as, quote, a successful trial.
Rosenberg: You know, I talked about this with Preet. And he also writes about it in his book: Doing Justice, that real prosecutors don’t celebrate verdicts, they don’t celebrate sentences, these are dramatic moments, they’re tragic moments. Justice has been done, but there’s nothing to celebrate, certainly not in the courtroom, certainly not in front of the defendant, or the defendant’s family.
Fitzgerald: Lots of the defendants may be sympathetic, some less so when they’re Al-Qaeda defendants and they’re trying to blow your country apart. You lose a lot less sleep over them in particular, but the other hidden pieces for many defendants they may well have earned the punishment they’re getting, but they have families, they have mothers and fathers or they have children or spouses or partners. And this is incarceration is a necessary evil in both senses when it’s a properly imposed, something you need to do at times, but not a good thing.
Rosenberg: You went on to do work involving the mafia in New York City. How did that come to be, and did you enjoy that work?
Fitzgerald: I loved the work. It was fascinating. There was a trial that was being scheduled. The prior trial team was shifting off the case had been around a while, and they came to me and said: would you be interested in working on this case, that was U.S. vs. John Gambino.
Rosenberg: And who’s John Gambino? Tell us about him?
Fitzgerald: The captain in the Gambino crime family. And he played a particular role because he was a bridge between the Italian mafia and Brooklyn, or La Cosa Nostra and the Sicilian Mafia in Sicily. And he was a bridge between the two, and a channel for sending, you know, heroin from Sicily to the United States, an important figure. His rank was captain in the Gambino crime family. Another codefendant was Joe Gambino, his brother, who was a soldier, and then other folks in the Gambino crime family. So, I was delighted to take on a case like that. It was fascinating. I called Jim Comey, who was leaving the office at that time to move to Virginia to say: who do you recommend to get as a trial partner. And to the credit of Patrice Comey, overheard the conversation. She basically told Jim you sounded real excited about that. Won’t you stay and do it. So, the two of us did it together. We went around the country visiting people in the witness protection program to sort of interview them, find out what they knew, and then figure out who these would make appropriate witnesses, then got ready for trial, and then had a long trial.
Rosenberg: How long did it last?
Fitzgerald: It was a six-month trial, depending on who you ask. I would say it was a six-month hung jury. Jim Comey would say it was the longest successful bail jumping conviction in history. We’d both be right. The jury hung on most counts.
Rosenberg: And what does that mean for a jury to hang?
Fitzgerald: They can’t decide unanimously whether to convict, or quit.
Rosenberg: And so, people understand, for someone to be convicted, it must be a unanimous jury but also for someone to be acquitted, it must be a unanimous jury. A hung jury just means no resolution.
Fitzgerald: Yes, they can be 11-to-1 to convict. That’s not enough. They can be11-to-1 to acquit, and that’s not enough. And so, we had the hung jury, and the bulk of the counts. They had jumped bail at one point in the process, John and Joe Gambino, so the jury convicted on that charge and then we had to retry it.
Rosenberg: But when you say we, Jim Comey had left.
Fitzgerald: Yes, we are reminded of that often. So, Jim, to his credit, and Patrice’s credit, put family plans on hold for a year to try this case, it then hung. We had to retry it. Jim left for Virginia, and poor Richard Abel volunteered to be my psychologist as we went through this second trial again.
Rosenberg: Not just your psychologist, but also your co-counsel. Rich is a very talented lawyer.
Fitzgerald: He’s a very talented lawyer and he had to endure my brooding over doing a retrial. And retry a case that didn’t work out the first time. Very frustrating.
Rosenberg: By the way, do you know why it didn’t resolve the first time. You know why it hung?
Fitzgerald: There were some issues around a particular juror. I will leave it at that. That, that led to some concern about whether this was a up and up hung jury. And you respect when jurors disagree. We’ve had our concerns, but nothing officially ever came of that, but we did do a second trial and it was scaled down. Rich was terrific. He brought new ideas. Rich would say: so why did we do it this way? And I would sort of say: well because that’s the way we did it. And I–you know, I try to remember why, and Rich would have a great idea, and say fine,
Rosenberg: You’re the senior prosecutor, you’re the mentor. Rich is junior to you.
Fitzgerald: Yes.
Rosenberg: But, he’s doing a lot of the trial as I understand it.
Fitzgerald: He was great. He was a great trial partner. So, in the US attorney’s office, it pretty quickly becomes a team of equals in many cases, and he was at least an equal if not driving the train in the case that we took to trial.
Rosenberg: With respect to the Gambino brothers, Joe and John were they also convicted.
Fitzgerald: Yes, they entered a guilty plea between the first and second trial. So, there was a guilty plea I think it was the first time that a member of the. Gambino crime family admitted to drug trafficking as part of a guilty plea, and they were not at the second trial. There was one defended at the second trial.
Rosenberg: And what did you learn from prosecuting mob cases, what stuck out to you?
Fitzgerald: What stuck out to me, is how people can rationalize certain things that make no sense. But to them, make rigid sense. That was particularly true when I dealt with the Sicilian Mafia witnesses straight from Sicily, and I remember once that there was a story that one of them who were involved in many killings told. And they viewed themselves as men of honor, and they took that very seriously.
Rosenberg: That was a phrase they used.
Fitzgerald: Uomini d’onore: men of honor. And when you were in the organization, there are all sorts of rules you followed, one of which was you know, this was secret. You didn’t talk about the existence of the organization much less who was in it. And so, there was a story one time where there were people they referred to as: common delinquents: thieves, burglars, that sort of thing, which in fact, this witness had been before he joined La Cosa Nostra. So, there were reports that someone was burglary one of the villages around Palermo in Sicily. So, they gathered two young men who were probably teenagers. And they interrogated them, and separated them, and they both confessed that they were doing these robberies and thefts.
Rosenberg: These common crimes.
Fitzgerald: Common crimes. And I don’t remember whether or not they had robbed someone who was a man of honor’s house, or broken some rules. By the end of it, they strangled both of these folks, saying they were common delinquents and they broke the rules. And so, there they are, they’ve just killed two young men. Then the story rolls around, you talk to the same witness, and they said there are some reports of some other robberies and burglaries in some area or other low-level crimes relatively low level. So, they bring two young men, and they separate them and interrogate them separately. And at the end of which, they become convinced that neither one of them was involved. Their stories made sense, and they realized they had the wrong guys. And they thereupon strangled him. And I said well, wait a minute. The first time you had to come in delinquents, they admitted to it and you strangled them. Now, you figure out these guys are not guilty. Why did you strangle them? Well, of course we had to strangle them because now we have revealed to them who we are. And they cannot know that we are in Cosa Nostra or know about Cosa Nostra. And then you say well, it’s a little odd, isn’t it, that if you’re going to interview these folks, if they’re guilty, you’ll kill them. If they are innocent, you’ll kill them, then why bother interviewing them if that’s what’s going to happen anyway. And watching the witness take great offense that there was no appreciation for knowing what the truth was, and feeling no sense of wrong
Rosenberg: No irony there.
Fitzgerald: No irony there. Putting aside the fact that you know imposing a self-imposed death penalty for low-level crimes is bad enough when people who did it. And then to overlay that with imposing the death penalty on those who didn’t. There was a sense of you do not understand. I will tell you I made the comment before when he joined La Cosa Nostra. I remember preparing the witness weeks before trial. And having debriefed him for a long time, and familiar with the facts and events that had to be told, I hadn’t been in the format of going to court. So, I said to him: OK, and when did you join La Cosa Nostra? And then he just looked back at me said: “I never join La Cosa Nostra.” And my heart sank. And I tried it again, and again, and again. And he kept saying he never joined La Cosa Nostra and my head is racing. I’m thinking this guy is going south on me. Someone’s got to him he’s panicked. But here he is the key witness going on in three weeks to talk about how he became a member of La Cosa Nostra and all the things that he did.
Rosenberg: And by going south, you mean that he was being untruthful.
Fitzgerald: Untruthful. And wondering what in the world is going on. And then finally, he just lectures me and says: have you learned nothing over the last year? You do not join La Cosa Nostra as if it is some sort of club or golf course and you just apply for a membership.
Rosenberg: He was offended.
Fitzgerald: He was offended. You become you were combined into La Cosa Nostra because you do not know La Cosa Nostra exists. They bring him somewhere and they tell you that you’re combined in and anyone who would use the word join doesn’t appreciate the Cosa Nostra is about. And so that I quickly made a note to myself. In front of the jury, I will ask when did you become a member of La Cosa Nostra, instead of when did you join. And that just shows me there was a rigour of mindset there that I, I realized is necessary for people to cling to in order to be able to do some of the horrific things that they did but they took it very seriously.
Rosenberg: Again, the word irony comes to mind. Folks who constantly break the law living by a rigid set of rules.
Fitzgerald: Yes. And that was very much the case particularly with the Sicilian La Cosa Nostra. The point that they could get pretty offended if you ask the wrong question, as they’re describing some horrible things they did.
Rosenberg: You liked that work, right?
Fitzgerald: I did. I found it fascinating. I thought it is important. And when you think that what many of the, sort of, ethnic organized crimes do groups do preying upon their own fellow immigrants, and taking advantage of the system, and killing people, or importing massive amount of drugs. It’s hard to feel that that’s not important work, and then to be part of a great team, work with great people: agents, investigators. I worked with Jim on that, I worked with Rich Abel, I got to work with the legendary Ken McCabe, and other folks, and FBI agents.
Rosenberg: We’ve mentioned Ken McCabe’s name before on this Podcast. Talk a little bit about him because every time I hear the name, and I never had the privilege of meeting him, I just hear wonderful things about the man.
Fitzgerald: He had a wonderful innate sense, he was a great guy.
Rosenberg: Former New York City police detective.
Fitzgerald: Yes. And then came to work at the U.S. attorney’s office on a case and kept him there had an encyclopedic knowledge of the mob. If you were driving around Little Italy with him, he’d, he’d look over and if he saw someone outside well those social clubs, he’d say: “there’s so and so…locked him up a couple of years back.” That was one of his favorite expressions because he had locked up most of them but he knew where people were. He knew like an encyclopedic knowledge of things. And great judge of character, and he said when you’d pick a jury. And he’d say, you know, I have concerns about that one juror. And he’d be right. But just a wonderfully hardworking, knowledgeable, low ego guy. And you’d see him sometimes meet some of the folks. Witnesses and there was a mutual respect there that they would look at him and say, he’s the real deal.
Rosenberg: The mobsters who he locked up respected him.
Fitzgerald: It was universal respect for the mobsters or at least, most of them that I ever heard of, and law enforcement and prosecutors and he’s just a wonderful, wonderful guy who passed away way too early in life. But left a real mark on those who worked with him.
Rosenberg: There was other work you did there, Pat, that we have to talk about. Some of the most interesting and important work that any federal prosecutor has ever done in this country and I don’t think I’m exaggerating. You and others, such as Ken Charisse, also a wonderful prosecutor now a federal judge in New York, were among the first to ever work on terrorism and on Al-Qaeda and Osama bin Laden in particular. How did that start?
Fitzgerald: So sadly, it started out with the World Trade Center bombing. February 26, 1993. The office then began to work on that prosecution. There were some close friends working on it, Henry DePippo, and Gil Childers, and Mike Garcia, and Lev Dassin. And while that was going on, I was actually in court doing the Gambino trial with, with Jim Comey. Well that was the middle of our six-month trial was January to June. So, it happened during our trial and then the retrial was I think the next January. When the retrial was over, I took a long vacation in Australia and New Zealand, went bungee jumping and all sorts of crazy stuff with my friend Dave Kelly, who was also in the office, and I had been promoted to be narcotics chief. And I came back from vacation and my boss Paul Shechtman said, we’d like you to join the trial team for the blind sheikh case. So, I think I had a three-month career as the chief of narcotics in the Southern District of New York, six weeks of which I was on vacation, and then I switched on to the trial team with Andy McCarthy and Rob Khuzami, and others were involved. Andy’s wife, Alexandra Rebay, was a key part of the team in terms of legal analysis, and brief writing. And so, we worked on the blind sheikh case which was a nine-month trial.
Rosenberg: Who’s the blind sheikh?
Fitzgerald: So, Sheik Omar Abdel-Rahman was a leader of what was called the Islamic group from Egypt, and he came to Brooklyn, and preached, and he was shown to be behind a group that was involved in a conspiracy that included the World Trade Center bombing, and our trial was from January of ‘95 until October 1st, 1995, and we overlap the OJ Simpson trial. And the OJ Simpson trial was packed everyone paid attention and there are many, many seats available in the courtroom for the blind sheik trial that got a lot less attention and I frankly think a lot of people thought the charges were a bit exaggerated. It talked about a global jihad effort around the world that was led by people who had extremist view of Islam and that was opposed to the west and was violent. And I think people didn’t take that all that seriously at the time. What is a fascinating trial and a great experience to work with Andy and Rob.
Rosenberg: 1993, a rented van was detonated in a subbasement of the World Trade Center and six people were killed. This was the first attempt by al-Qaeda to bring down the World Trade Center and, you’re right, not a lot of people were paying attention but it couldn’t just be because of the OJ trial.
Fitzgerald: I think there was a unwillingness to believe that this jihad conspiracy could be that real and that broad. It also is clear to me, looking back on it as part of that investigation, that the day that that extremist form of violence came to American shores, wasn’t February ‘93 it was back in ‘89 and ‘90. There have been prior attacks that were not paid attention to. There was a gay bar bombing in Greenwich Village in April 1990, and it was written off, I believe, by the police as anti-gay extremism which it was, but it wasn’t just your random person who had a bias against gay people.
Rosenberg: Who was responsible for it?
Fitgerald: It was El Sayyid A. Nosair, who was also behind the World Trade Center bombing plot and others. There were attempts to set off bombs against Dan Quayle and Jeane Kirkpatrick that were inept. But it happened in hotels while there were labor strikes. So, that was being dismissed. There were–we learned later, efforts to stalk Hosni Mubarak by El Sayyid A. Nosair
Rosenberg: The president of Egypt.
Fitzgerald: He president of Egypt. There are tantalizing hints of acts of violence beforehand and then there was a remarkable story of the assassination of Rabbi Meier Kahane in the middle of Manhattan. And that story is incredible. Meier Kahane is in the middle of a hotel room and Meier Kahane was would I say would be a right wing pro-Israeli person who wanted all the Palestinians removed from the state of Israel. So, a controversial figure, he’s giving a speech in midtown Manhattan
Rosenberg: When?
Fitzgerald: November 5th, 1990. And during the speech, a man walks up in the middle of the hotel. Walks up to the speaker, pulls out a 357 Magnum, and shoots him dead in front of the crowd. The shooter then runs to the back of the room, Irving Franklin at 76 doesn’t have a gun, but bravely goes to tackle the gunman. The gunman shoots him in the thigh. He runs out the back of the hotel, is running out into midtown traffic, and jumps into a cab. A whole bunch of people attending Kahane’s speech, unharmed surround the taxi. He jumps out of the taxi, and then there’s a postal police officer closing up the post office across the street with a gun and a bulletproof vest. And he turns around, and there’s a shootout between the shooter and the postal police officer who shot, but hit in the vest, and a man lies on the ground bleeding with 357 inches from his fingers and gets arrested. That El Sayyid A. Nosair, who would later play a role in the World Trade Center bombing. We’ve taken a trial in the state, he is acquitted of killing Rabbi Kahane, but convicted of possessing the gun that did so
Rosenberg: It wasn’t a federal prosecution it was a state prosecution.
Fitzgerald: I never quite figured out what happened at that trial. But, because the federal government can re-try cases under certain circumstances, it’s not a violation of the double jeopardy clause of the Constitution. We took that murder and brought it into the case that we brought against the blind sheikh and others as part of an overarching conspiracy, retried it, and convicted those share of that. So, to me, that’s clear proof that back in November 1990 extremist jihadis come to America.
Rosenberg: There’s an interesting story, Pat based on the forensic work of the FBI, in the aftermath of the ‘93 World Trade Center bombing, where they found a car part that led them to the bombers. Can you talk about that?
Fitzgerald: Sure. There’s some great forensic science that can figure out which car was the host of the bomb. It’s sort of like think about an egg in an egg carton. If own put a firecracker in one of the eggs. The one that had the firecrackers going to have little pieces distributed in all directions. So that sounds easy, when people do the hard work the forensic folks trace it back. They found the VIN number of the vehicle identification number of the truck that contained the bomb. And it was a van that was rented from some car rental service. And when they pulled the record up, they saw that had been rented by a guy named Mohammed Salameh. If I back up to tie this into an earlier story
Rosenberg: Please.
Fitzgerald: When El Sayyid A. Nosair killed Rabbi Mahone in the middle of a ballroom, it turns out that this fellow Mohammad Salameh was there with him, sitting in the audience later spotted in a video. So, there had been talk that in fact Nossair was going to bomb big buildings. There had been an effort to, to appraise it. And frankly, the person who was reporting it was viewed as being unreliable. And so, the FBI closed its investigation by trying to scare Nossair, Salameh, and others. 6 months later, they realized Salameh is the one who rented the van that blew up the World Trade Center. The guy who was in the back of the room with Nossair, and they realized they had to arrest him. They sent an undercover agent when he, when Salameh comes back to get the deposit on his van return. Imagine the brains behind that. You use a van to blow up the World Trade Center and you’re going back to collect a deposit. There was an almost comical exchange where the undercover agents negotiating whether he should pay him two hundred dollars and Salameh is outraged. And then the agent says OK seven hundred. What if I offer you seventy-five.
Rosenberg: So, the FBI agent negotiates down.
Fitzgerald: Down, and he takes it, and then he’s arrested. And then meanwhile, this tied into a fellow named Ibrahim el-Gabrowny, who is Nossair’s cousin. And they went to find him in Brooklyn. There was a great detective since passed away: Tom Corrigan, a dear friend, as much as they loved and admired Kenny McCabe, equally strong feelings about Tom Cargill who is a great American, and we miss him. And he went in with part of the arrest team for Ibrahim el-Gabrowny, who they thought might have had plastic explosives in his jacket when they felt something hard in his jacket. It turned out it was five fake passports for Nossair to go to Nicaragua to escape, and he ended up being prosecuted. But this whole Vin episode was a quick forensic unraveling that took him back into the conspiracy of folks that ended up being charged with the bombing and the plots around it. And then after the conviction of the blind sheik, one of the things that Mary Jo White will forever give credit for
Rosenberg: Then the U.S. attorney for the Southern District of New York. Your boss.
Fitzgerald: My boss. She understood that there might be more to this jihad stuff and people were giving credit for. So, with no resources coming from Washington, she stood up in organized crime terrorism unit to say let’s be more proactive. And ironically, people can forget how it all happened. It wasn’t focused on Osama bin Laden in particular. It was focused on Islamic extremism, or terrorism generally. And we started that unit, and it was a fascinating way to work. And eventually, we learned appropriately, that there were other people at the CIA, who were looking at Islamic extremists and they were focused on a guy named Osama bin Laden. And we had a lot of legal difficulties to work through, but we got to the point where we could partner with both the FBI to work on a criminal case against bin Laden, but also, to appropriately be read into intelligence that the CIA had about him. And my first reactions were to thinking that Osama bin Laden was a little bit like Where’s Waldo. Every time something bad happened around the world, people were like: it’s bin Laden. And how could this guy actually exist and be that involved all around the world. And maybe he’s a billionaire or a very wealthy man. Maybe he was loose with his finances. But what sort of role did he actually play? And so, we ended up working on the bin Laden case from ‘95 forward, what was an evolving sense of bin Laden not with a sense from day one that he’s the kingpin over a terrorist organization. One of the more interesting things I think people don’t appreciate about al-Qaeda, is how sophisticated and how corporate it was.
Rosenberg: What do you mean by corporate, Pat?
Fitzgerald: They had a H.R. folks, they had communications folks, they had salaries. They had policies. So, if you worked for al-Qaeda you were paid a fixed salary. You would get medical benefits of some sort. You would get like two weeks-vacation. At one point, they had a financial crisis within al-Qaeda, they had a downsizing, where they told people: you can retire from al-Qaeda, and we’ll give you X amount of money and two tickets to return to your home country, unless your home country has the death penalty imposed on you already, then you can go somewhere else. But there was like a buyout plan when they wanted to downsize, and you worked at their direction. You could be a bottle washer in a field camp one day, you could be the communications person a month later, and then they could be sending you to do a military action, as they would view it in Afghanistan, at the same time.
Rosenberg: So. when you call it corporate, you’re not kidding
Fitzgerald: Not kidding at all. And this fellow, we called him Junior was his nickname, Junior came to learn as sort of the paymaster in the Sudan, that there was racial discrimination going on in al-Qaeda that the Sudanese who were looked down upon, were paid less than the Egyptians or the Iraqis. So, he decided to engage in self-help, he was Sudanese. He started taking money from al-Qaeda to make up for what he thought was the unfair salary he was paid.
Rosenberg: Junior’s real name was Jamal Al-Fadl.
Fitzgerald: Jamal Al-Fadl. And then it became known that bin Laden that Junior has been embezzling from him. So, he called him in your room and said pay the money back. And then Junior decided he wouldn’t pay the money back and he absconded. I won’t tell you where he went, but he made contact with American officials overseas, and then we had the opportunity to meet him overseas, and debrief him. It was an interesting moment because his first reaction was I read President Clinton has a program to pay rewards to people who turn in terrorists. He thought he might get a bounty for coming forward and we had to explain that that program didn’t apply to terrorist themselves. And then as a member of al-Qaeda, we were interested in working out a plea deal with him, that he would come to America. He would plead guilty to a crime. He would get consideration for helping us. And eventually we convinced him to do so.
Rosenberg: Was it difficult to bring him on board?
Fitzgerald: It took work. It took time of listening to him with some great agents and a team. And you mentioned Ken Charisse before, and we worked through with him, and getting him to the point where he understood it was in his interest, personally, and his family’s interest in safety to get him to United States to get him in the witness protection program eventually to get his family out of the Sudan, which we did, and get them into the witness protection program. And frankly the strangest thing about it is I’ve always had a theory that very few people who become government witnesses have any sort of conversion. They might want to tell a jury: I used to rob banks for a living and suddenly I decided it was the wrong thing and I became a witness. Usually when they had that epiphany, it’s shortly after the handcuffs go on them outside a bank where they got caught in the middle of a bank robbery. And I’ve always been reluctant to believe anyone who had a conversion









