Albert Pirro, husband of celebrity District Attorney Jeanine Pirro and one of the state's most influential businessmen, was convicted Thursday of tax evasion, making himself an even bigger obstacle to his wife's political career.
The federal jury found that Albert Pirro and his accountant, his brother Anthony, had conspired to hide $1.2 million of Albert's income by disguising his often-lavish personal spending as deductible business expenses.
Pirro, 53, a real estate developer, Republican fund-raiser and one of the state's top lobbyists, and his 45-year-old brother could be sentenced to up to five years in prison, though federal guidelines point to a shorter term.
Albert Pirro looked resigned as he heard the jury foreman recite ``Guilty'' to each of the 34 counts against him conspiracy, tax evasion and filing false tax returns. His wife, looking grim but steady, sat forward in her seat. Anthony Pirro's wife sobbed in the seat behind Jeanine Pirro.
The trial, featuring Westchester County's ``golden couple,'' was a local sensation, dominating the news to such a degree that that the jurors, who were forbidden to take in the coverage, were promised a ``press kit'' of clippings to peruse at the end of the trial.
Jeanine Pirro, whose ambitions have been thwarted for years by her husband's legal entanglements, sat through about half the trial, occasionally summoning reporters to make sure they understood favorable testimony. ``My family's in trouble,'' she said when asked why she was there.
After the verdict Jeanine Pirro told
Newsradio 88 Reporter Fran Schneidau that she intends to continue her work as Westchester County District Attorney and spend time with her children. Albert Pirro took complete responsibility for the couples tax returns and for any deductions that were made on his wife's behalf.
When asked if the Pirro's intend on staying together, Schneidau reports that they seemed to dodge the question but stated that they would give it "the old college try."
A Republican who has been a vote-getting machine in Westchester County, she was in court when she learned that New York City Mayor Rudolph Giuliani had dropped out of the U.S. Senate race, creating an opening that might have been hers for the asking under other circumstances.
From her front-row seat in the White Plains courtroom, she heard employees and tradespeople testify about the high life she shared with her husband, studded with 18 pricey cars, silk rugs, a vacation home in Florida, $100,000 in overdraft protection and a wrought-iron pen for their pet pigs, Wilbur and Orville.
Though the district attorney was not charged, her name was mentioned every day of the trial and she made clear from the start that she considered the investigation and trial an invasion of privacy. ``There's not any part of my life that's not in that indictment,'' she said.
Mrs. Pirro, 49, stomped out o the courtroom when a prosecutor questioned the need for a security gate at her home and the tax deduction it produced. The defense said the Pirros' children had been threatened.
She did manage to avoid most of the discussion of an old paternity case against her husband, which was an issue in the case because Pirro deducted the $70,000 he spent unsuccessfully fighting the lawsuit.
The ex-lover, Jessica Marciano, tried to get to the trial from her home in Scotland but was arrested when she landed with Pirro's daughter in Newark. She was sent to Florida, where she was wanted for a violation of her grand-theft probation. Pirro said he had nothing to do with her arrest.
When the trial brought out that the district attorney did some shopping and some family bookkeeping while in her office, Pirro defended herself by saying, ``I try to separate my personal and professional life, but I'm a D.A. 24 hours a day, seven hours a week. I don't tell my kids not to call me at the office. ... Like most working women, I try to do the best I can.''
The defense had been confident enough not to call any witnesses, and lead attorney Gustave Newman told the jury in closing that Albert Pirro was ''99.9 percent pure, like the Ivory Soap commercial.''
But he was alarmed by prosecutor Cathy Seibel's long and sometimes sarcastic closing argument, which said Pirro ``lived like Donald Trump'' and ``wanted to spend like a Rockefeller.'' She said Pirro was like Richard Nixon for holding onto incriminating evidence the checks, invoices and ledgers that showed he used money from his many companies to support his personal lifestyle, then wrote them off as business deductions. Newman called the comparison ``venomous.''
Defense lawyers centered on how busy Pirro was and how little attention he paid to bookkeeping. They brought out that he and his wife once signed a tax return that was missing the name of one of their children.
``Believe me, it's not something I would overlook if I looked at it,'' the district attorney said.
The defense team there were half a dozen lawyers, and Albert Pirro said he spent $2 to $3 million also stressed that once Pirro learned he was under investigation, he had his returns redone and paid back nearly $1 million in federal and state taxes and interest. Seibel said that was like a bank robber giving back his loot when he's caught.
Anthony Pirro's lawyer, Roger Stavis, said the younger brother was ``just an accountant,'' not a business partner, and had no motive to further any tax fraud for his brother. Evidence included one of Anthony's accounting worksheets, which revealed a ''2'' changed to a ''4,'' allegedly adding a phantom $20,000 to Albert Pirro's tax deductions in 1994.
One of the most intriguing pretrial developments was never mentioned at trial: Albert Pirro secretly videotaping his brother in an apparent attempt to get himself cleared, and the ensuing iring of family laundry Anthony's drug conviction, Albert's treatment for depression.
The jurors also never heard Albert Pirro's claim that the entire prosecution was a government attempt to hobble his wife's career.
And the judge would not allow them to see a transcript of Pirro's law school grades. When reporters asked how he'd done in tax class, he said, ``Obviously, not good enough.''
No sentencing date has been set, and the Pirro brothers have been allowed to remain free.