“Surgical” is the word that came to mind after reading the 39-page indictment returned against Sen. Robert Menendez, D-N.J., his wife and his alleged co-conspirators. The allegations, laid out in a narrative “speaking indictment,” are exacting and leave little to the imagination.
With corruption cases in particular, prosecutors tend to employ speaking indictments to signal to the public that there is sufficient evidence, even at the charging stage, to meet a heightened burden of proof. Speaking indictments weave a more easily digestible story for the uninitiated reader, including details that go beyond a mere recitation of the elements of the charges. And this new story is compelling — it needed to be.
Prosecutors cannot afford another hung jury, the proverbial nightmare for a prosecutor.
In my years spent prosecuting federal public corruption cases, the adage “when you come for the king, you best not miss” was an understood and important mantra. Prosecutors must never take lightly the fact that public officials elected to office reflect the will of the voting public; if an elected official is prosecuted, it must be based on substantial, well-grounded proof, not simply circumstantial evidence or a hunch.
Six years ago, DOJ “came for the king” and did miss when a jury deadlocked on earlier corruption charges against Menendez. Without directly acknowledging those previous charges, this newest indictment is a rare glimpse into the mindset of federal prosecutors, who appear to have learned from their mistakes. (Menendez, his wife and his co-defendants have all pleaded not guilty.)
Corruption cases are historically among the most challenging to investigate and prosecute for several reasons. Perhaps the biggest is that there is a fine line between a corrupt criminal offense involving bribery and an ethical or administrative violation. In recent years, that line has become even more razor-thin in the wake of the Supreme Court’s decisions in both McDonnell v. United States and Kelly v. United States (the latter better known as “Bridgegate”). These cases narrowed the definition of a public corruption crime, complicating the initial prosecutorial decision whether to charge public officials with corruption. Prosecutors must distinguish between acts that seem distasteful but lack corrupt intent, and more pernicious acts done with the requisite criminal intent.
To prove corrupt intent, prosecutors try to show that a specific quid pro quo exists between the public official who’s using his influence to benefit another person and the person who’s providing something of value. The question we should be asking here is: Did Menendez conspire and agree to accept bribes (in the form of cash, gold bars, mortgage payments, home furnishings and a luxury car) in exchange for corruptly using his official influence and authority to benefit his co-conspirators?








