Golden (49 page)

Blagojevich was against the idea of an Obama victory, but his duty to appoint a replacement if it happened was very quickly filling up his workday hours. Even into the evenings, it was on his mind. Still on Halloween, when it was almost dark enough for trick-or-treaters to be circulating in his neighborhood, Blagojevich was back on the phone with Greenlee, who had prepared a list of potential qualifications for the Senate seat that the governor would announce publicly. The paper had been sent to Washington for a look by one of Blagojevich's advisers there, Bill Knapp.

Calls about the seat were coming to Blagojevich at home.

“Got some lady calling my house for Jesse Jr. here a little while ago,” Blagojevich told Greenlee, who called Jackson shameless. “Unbelievable, isn't it? Then I, we were approached pay to play. That, ya know, he'd raise me five hundred grand, an emissary came. Then the other guy would raise a million if I made him a senator.”

“I'm, ah, you know I'm not surprised by him at all,” Greenlee answered.

It was a watershed moment for prosecutors, as they heard Blagojevich in his own words describe a criminal offer and potentially implicate a US congressman. The governor had even used the term
pay to play,
showing he was more than aware the kind of territory he was getting into. Agents noted
among themselves that the so-called ethics governor certainly didn't turn around and call them to report such an outrageous effort to give him cash.

The money offer had come from Nayak at the fundraiser, and there was a mixup on the number. Robert Blagojevich had thought Nayak meant he would raise $1.5 million when Nayak held up one finger on one hand and five fingers on the other, when Nayak actually had meant $6 million would be raised. From then on, the governor continued to think the offer was a quarter of the real amount Jackson's friends were contemplating.

If Obama did win, another intriguing idea was simply appointing himself, Blagojevich said, asking Greenlee if he thought that was a good idea. Maybe he could just appoint a placeholder now, someone who would step aside if Blagojevich ran for the office in 2010. It was hard to know which would be the better play, since the economy was bad and the party in power, the Democrats, could pay the price that year. If he waited until 2010, he might not win anyway, he told Greenlee, and if he appointed himself now, there could be so much backlash, he wouldn't be able to hold it.

The following morning, Robert was back on his cell phone, thanking Rajinder Bedi and his brother for the Indian event the day before. Another fundraiser was being planned for December 6 in the western suburb of Oak Brook. Members of the community were looking for a hall that might seat one thousand people. An excited Robert turned around and called the governor, informing him there were already twenty-five commitments for tables that ran $2,500 each.

Even before 9:00 A
M,
Blagojevich was back on the Senate appointment. He had formed a few key options in his mind. One was a political deal with Michael Madigan to send his daughter, Lisa, the state's attorney general since 2003, to the Senate in exchange for the House Speaker backing Blagojevich's legislative agenda: a balanced budget, no tax increases, expanded health care. If he wanted to stay governor and be able to do great things, that was the way to go. But Blagojevich wasn't sure he wanted to be governor, so there were other things to think about. He could appoint himself or appoint a placeholder like Illinois Senate President Emil Jones and then run for the seat in 2010. Or he could bow to the wishes of other powerful politicians, most notably Obama. It was possible Obama might want his friend, Chicago businesswoman and civic leader Valerie Jarrett, to be appointed—that name was in all the papers—but that was only a good option if Obama really wanted her and was willing to give him things right up front, Blagojevich said. None of the options really looked perfect. Send Jones, and Madigan
comes after you even harder, Blagojevich told Greenlee. As for sending himself, the Democrats would want to hold the seat and might back him, the governor said, unless his problems with US Attorney Fitzgerald got worse.

“If the Fitzgerald stuff gets worse,” Greenlee answered, “you're fucked either way.”

Later that morning, Blagojevich was back on the phone with his brother, checking in on fund-raising activity. Monk had updated Robert on another fund-raising plan. The governor was considering a bill that would divert casino revenue to the state's struggling horseracing industry, and Blagojevich was seeking a campaign donation from track owner John Johnston and his family. Monk had told Robert that effort was going fine and that he was still waiting to hear from Krozel on his donation. Blagojevich told his brother Monk should also be tapped to call and ask for $100,000 from Blair Hull, who had lost the Senate primary in 2004 to Obama, spending millions of his own dollars. To Blagojevich, Hull was a known sap, a man who had paid for private jets for the governor in the past in a bid for influence. Now Hull was interested in replacing the man who had beaten him in 2004.

“Blair Hull actually thinks he can be senator. You believe this guy?” Blagojevich said. “He's an idiot.”

Jesse Jackson Jr. thought he could be the pick, too, Robert answered. Right, said Blagojevich.

November 2 was a Sunday, and pro football provided at least a momentary distraction. Robert was on his cell phone teasing Blagojevich about his team, the Cowboys. “America's Team” had been annihilated by the New York Giants, and Blagojevich was trying to tell his brother they hadn't been expected to win anyway.

After the fun, it was right back to talk of fund-raising. Lon Monk was calling Hull and the Indians. Blagojevich said with an Obama win, he was going to have to get serious about deciding on the Senate seat.

“Do I just finish out my term as governor?” Blagojevich said. “You know, do I try to run again as governor? I can't see me, I don't want to be governor again.”

“Look man, that's, that's your gut check right there,” his brother answered. “So no one needs to tell you anything.”

“There's just a bunch of shit that I got to, you know, divorce from myself when I'm making these decisions, this decision,” Blagojevich told Robert. “And I got this, you know, unbelievable thing in front of me. I can appoint the next senator, including myself.”

Blagojevich said his model was Mitt Romney, a former Massachusetts governor who had managed to put together a national network of supporters and be relevant on a national stage. Well, Romney had wealth, Robert answered. That wasn't something the governor had managed. Right, said Blagojevich, but it could be possible to figure both out contemporaneously. Maybe spending a little time in Washington as a senator was the best way to emulate what Romney had done, Blagojevich said, but he was clearly skeptical of his own thoughts.

“Don't you think I'd be Carol Moseley Braun if I make myself a senator?” Blagojevich asked, referencing the one-term Illinoisan whose time in the senate was marked by controversy and virtually no accomplishments.

There might be other routes, he said out loud, like getting a TV show. Sending himself to Washington meant sending himself into instability and the unknown. There were no guarantees. Nineteen seventy-two had been a Republican landslide, for example, he said, and then Watergate had changed the landscape almost overnight. He could get washed out by any number of variables.

What he wanted to do most was run for president.

“The moment when it first hit me was when I saw Obama, when I was there when he announced. And I said this guy is seriously running for president, and I've worked with him. Now I know I can do it. You know what I mean?”

Maybe in eight years, Robert said. Blagojevich would be sixty then.

“Reagan's my model,” Blagojevich said. “Obama's model would be John Kennedy, but mine would be Reagan.”

The next day was November 3, just a day before the election. It was a key day for Blagojevich, as Obama's wishes for the Senate seat he was about to vacate were going to get much clearer. The first official messenger had in fact been Emanuel. He had called Harris when Harris was at a shoe store. The governor's chief of staff had taken the call and learned that Obama did in fact have a specific preference for who would succeed him.

Harris told Blagojevich about his talk with Emanuel on a call that started normally enough. Harris and his boss chatted about the imminent presidential vote and Halloween a couple of nights before. There had been two
Sarah Palin costumes in Blagojevich's neighborhood. Then Harris began to recount what he had been told. If someone were to believe Rahm, Obama very much cared about his replacement and wanted that to be Valerie Jarrett. It was like a switch was thrown in Blagojevich's mind.

“OK, now we should get something for that, couldn't I?” he said, with Harris responding that there would need to be more talks. “How about Health and Human Services, can I get that?” Blagojevich asked.

If Obama really cared, maybe, Harris answered. What Blagojevich might realistically expect to get in return might depend on what his perceived alternatives were. The better the alternatives, the more bargaining power the governor had. Bill Daley was one.

“Lisa Madigan,” Blagojevich said. “That's right. It's Lisa Madigan.”

If he fronted Lisa Madigan as a very good option for him, the price for Obama to get what he wanted would go up accordingly. Blagojevich immediately thought of leaking an item saying he was very interested in Madigan to
Sun-Times
gossip columnist Michael Sneed. His press representative, Lucio Guerrero, had told him he often wrote things for Sneed in her own voice and e-mailed them over to her for consideration in her column. That was doable now as well. Do me a favor, Blagojevich said to Harris, look up who had been secretary of health and human services. Former Wisconsin governor Tommy Thompson was an obvious one who had made the kind of move Blagojevich was now pondering. Maybe there was another cabinet position that wouldn't be stupid, he said. How about UN ambassador—ridiculous?

“Shit, that'd be cool, huh?” the governor said. The potential trades were seemingly endless. Blagojevich called his wife and brother to tell them about the possibilities.

Back at the FBI's Lisle office, agents were fairly ecstatic. There was a feeling among supervisors that they finally had the governor of Illinois where they wanted him. They had caught him in illicit deals in the making, and it had taken just a few days of wiretapping to do it. Agents were working long days, sitting on the phone lines with earphones listening to what was unfolding, periodically letting Cullen and other bureau bosses listen to the calls on a speaker. Many couldn't believe what they were hearing. Wiretap investigations usually involved long periods of sitting and waiting for a particular phone to ring, but this was a veritable explosion of phone traffic and information. It was Cullen's job to give daily briefings at a meeting with Chicago's FBI boss, Rob Grant, and other bosses. It became a joke that no one wanted to follow Cullen's Blagojevich update because it was so good.

At the US attorney's office, the reaction was nearly the same. The office was getting daily briefings on the ongoing taping and copies of the discs that were being burned of the calls. There was a distinct feeling of, “You've got to be kidding me.”

Rod Blagojevich, the governor of the state, was turning his ability to appoint someone to the US Senate into an auctionable item. Prosecutors knew Blagojevich was occasionally into some very sketchy and probably illegal fund-raising, and their taping effort had started down that trail. Now they had something that was off the charts in terms of expectations. One likened it to targeting someone who was suspected of dealing guns and drugs and learning “Oh, by the way, he's trying to kill the president of the United States.”

Blagojevich had his November 3 meeting with Balanoff and Stern, after getting hints they had been tapped by Obama and those around him to get Blagojevich the message that Valerie Jarrett was the preferred candidate to replace Obama. The meeting took place downtown at the Thompson Center at Blagojevich's state offices, outside the bounds of the federal taping operation. What was caught on tape were calls the governor had with Harris and Greenlee prior to sitting down with the union bosses. “Wargaming” was what he called it, deciding how to make a play to be named secretary of health and human services in exchange for appointing Jarrett as Obama wished. He agreed with his advisers that he wouldn't come on too strong and make a direct request just yet. He would sit back, act confused, and mention he had other good options on the table, such as Lisa Madigan. That would placate her father and break the Springfield logjam. “There is a carrot and stick thing,” is how Blagojevich described it to Harris. “Do they think that I would just appoint Valerie Jarrett for nothing? Just to make him happy?” His bid to take the HHS post shouldn't be dismissed out of hand, he said. He had done more with health care as a governor than Tommy Thompson had. And there were still other possibilities that were being worked out, such as asking Emil Jones to empty his Illinois campaign war chest and give it to Blagojevich in exchange for becoming a senator.