27. Judicial Thuggishness

Massachusetts trial judge Ernest Murphy won a $2.1 million libel verdict against the Boston Herald.  Recently the Boston papers have reported on an extraordinary pair of letters Murphy wrote, on official stationery, to the Herald's publisher.  The tone is that of a gangster in a shiny suit:

I'd like to meet you at the Union Club on Monday, March 7. ...  Here's what will be the price of that meeting.  You will have one person with you at the meeting. ...  You will bring to that meeting a cashier's check, payable to me, in the sum of $3,260,000.  No check, no meeting.  You will give me that check and I shall put it in my pocket. ...  It would be a mistake, Pat, to show this letter to anyone other than the gentleman whose authorized signature will be affixed to the check in question.  In fact, a BIG mistake.  Please do not make that mistake. 

It sure sounds like a cheap hood's shakedown, doesn't it?  The letters even include repeated references to "honorable" men, tending to confirm the impression that the judge picked up pointers from Mario Puzo.

That (and the judge's inability to spell) might make the whole affair seem comical.  But there's a serious aspect to the letters, too.  Murphy told the publisher: "And since every single thing I told you about what was going to happen in this case thusfar, has happened, maybe, just maybe, I have some credibility with you at this point."  And: "you have ZERO chance of reversing my jury verdict on appeal.  Anyone who is counselling you to the contrary ... is WRONG.  Not 5% ... ZERO."  (Those caps and ellipses are in the original.)

I don't see any way to read the judge's words except as an assertion that the trial was fixed, and that the appeal will equally be fixed.  There's no other way for the odds of reversal to be nil.  (In fact, libel verdicts are thrown out on appeal with notorious frequency.)  Perhaps the judge was merely bluffing, hoping the Herald would believe him.  Or maybe he was counting on the Massachusetts good ol' boy network of judges to come through for one of their own.  (After all, is it in the interest of the Supreme Judicial Court to permit the Herald to get away with publishing a critique of the state judiciary?)  Or maybe the case was really fixed. 

And then there's the matter of the judge demanding a 50% premium over the verdict.  (The premium would equal Murphy's lawyer's fee, if the lawyer took the case on a 33% contingency basis.)  The judge told the Herald's publisher -- on judicial stationery -- that it was "in your distinct business interest" to pay up.  "I have not the slightest apprehension of failure of my ability to make you (and your insurer) concur in that assessment."  It's difficult to imagine how any plaintiff could convince a defendant that it was in his business interest to pay a million bucks more than he had to -- unless, that is, the judge intended to make an offer the Herald couldn't refuse. 

The Union Club, where Judge Murphy proposed the check should be forked over, advertises its private dining rooms.  It appears to be entirely suitable for use as a substitute for a dark alley.  The judge didn't intend for anyone to observe him putting a $3.2 million check in his pocket.

On cursory examination, it appears that the Massachusetts laws are written in such a way that what Judge Murphy did is not, technically, attempted extortion.  It will be interesting to see if the Massachusetts Commission on Judicial Conduct thinks that a judge hinting that trials and appeals in the Commonwealth are fixed, and making remarks that could be construed as a threat to use the powers of his office to damage a business unless $3.2 million was paid to him in secret, constitutes grounds for removing that judge from office.  Is there a limit on judicial thuggishness?