Larry Maxwell Mortgage Fraud Trial: Defense Attorney Larry Reed Plays Maxwell's Last, Desperate Cards

Detective Cardenas, Photo by John Hoff


With stacks of evidence that appears to nail his client ten dozen ways from Sunday, Defense Attorney Larry Reed could still, somehow, extract a pound of flesh and give Larry Maxwell a chance to say, "I went down swinging." In closing arguments, Reed repeatedly attacked the character and integrity of Detective Cory Cardenas, Bloomington Police Department, pictured above.

Yes, in the course of a five hour interrogation with Larry Maxwell, the police detective had--imagine this--repeatedly LIED TO MAXWELL.

What a novel concept: a police detective who...

...lies to a suspect during interrogation, just to trick out information! Why, it's like water boarding, only without the water and the board!

The body language of the jury members told the tale: small nods during some portions of the prosecution's closing, even a "nod of revelation" by the juror I call "Loud Shirt Guy" as the elements of racketeering were explained by the prosecution. In contrast, there were crossed arms and even incredulous looks during Reed's rather rambling closing statement, particularly from the Dude Who Loves Sports, a juror whose emotions show strongly in his face. The body language wasn't extreme or obvious, but if you were looking for it, it was definitely there.

The courtroom was packed, but not to capacity. Some of the seats in the back were taken by what appeared to be a group of high school students, who seemed bored out of their minds as Judge Chu read the jury instructions. The mere reading of the instructions took roughly HALF AN HOUR. A reporter from the Star Tribune was present.

Now able to sit in the courtroom, the wife of identity theft victim John Foster observed proceedings. She is an insurance agent. One day her husband walked to his mailbox and found a statement about a property he didn't actually own. I am not providing her name because, as far as I can tell, it has not come out in the media and she is a victim along with her husband.

The first thing you notice is she's SMALL. Her head comes up about as high as my chest. She wears big sunglasses indoors, like an incognito movie star, and the sort of black pants suit you might wear to a funeral which you're obligated to attend...but it's not like you're really SAD, so why shouldn't you look sharp? The pants suit featured a decorative pin shaped like the crown of a king...or a queen.

"She's queen for a day!" joked her friend, the real estate agent. She's an older woman and, on this particular day, wore a necklace of hand-carved beads. The women remind me somewhat of tourists, taking everything in, seemingly ENJOYING themselves. They've gone from being turned away by public officials to being the instigators of this massive legal proceeding. The women credited Detective Cardenas, who they call "The Great Cardini."

These two women appear very close friends, the kind of enduring female relationship one reads about in "Divine Secrets Of The Ya-Ya Sisterhood." When the mortgage fraud/identity theft issue first manifested, the clues were as thin as April ice, but a key break came when the real estate agent made a phone call and got somebody to spill a name: Larry Maxwell.

The deal involving LARRY MAXWELL was ugly and messy, said this source, and his office wasn't going to do have business LARRY MAXWELL, anymore. Pulling on that thread of information produced more information: Maxwell had been convicted in the past of, oh gee, fraud.

The amateur, self-initiated investigation by John Foster's wife--aided by the real estate agent friend--took over a year. At one point, a thick file was turned over to the Commerce Department and they LOST THE FILE, forcing an arduous reassembly of documentation. There are some raw feelings still apparent over the way the Commerce Department initially offered no help, but Detective Cardenas seems quite involved in smoothing over those emotions between John Foster's wife and the mortgage fraud investigators from the Commerce Department. When Cardenas himself went to the Commerce Department, THEY HELPED. That's why--among many other reasons--the victims in this matter call the detective "The Great Cardini."

There's another great nickname in the court room: The Imposter Foster. This is what they call Jerome L. Kingrussell at the Foster household. Recently, another bit of humor concerns the condition of the house at 1564 Hillside Ave. N. Pointing to my blog post on the subject, click here, which showed the condition of the interior, John Foster's wife joked, "Look, honey, if you make me mad, this is where I'm sending you." She also says, of Larry Maxwell, "His worst mistake was that my husband married ME."

Talking to "Mrs. John Foster" I learned she has indeed filed a civil suit against Larry Maxwell. I also learned, incredibly, there was a $40,000 insurance claim against the house at 1564 Hillside, due to freezing and water damage. The claim was paid out. One dubious, doubtful, dodgey thing after another happened with properties in North Minneapolis--plus a few in the suburubs--but now the chickens have come home to roost thanks to a spitfire housewife/insurance agent who "went Columbo" over somebody stealing her husband's identity.

This is the jury of 12 men and women, good and true, who will sit in judgment of Larry Maxwell. Two alternate jurors also serve.

# The Olive Man. Prematurely balding, he looks like he should be sitting in a cafe in Italy, or sunning himself on a beach in Lebanon. Yesterday he was actually wearing an olive-colored shirt. He is quiet, sits way back in the corner, frequently crosses his arms.

# Next to Olive Man sits the only racial minority on the jury: the Asian guy. He has a prominent jaw, and frequently wears a serious expression, leaning forward more often than the other jurors.

# The Tall Gopher. Often wearing a U of M jacket, he probably doesn't mind sitting in the back because he is so tall. He leans back with frequency, seems rather casual.

# The Businessman. He comes to court in a SUIT AND TIE, and from a distance I once mistook him for the prosecutor, Brad Johnson. This guy is the chili cook off champion at his church, using a recipe he admits to finding on the internet which features not only hamburger, but bacon. He'd be happy to share the recipe with others, he told his fellow juror.

# Mr. Edina. Sometimes seen wearing an "Edina" jacket, this guy doesn't let a lot of emotions show, but sometimes I think I see an emotion leak from his eyelids in moments when he isn't careful to control his facial expressions:

CONTEMPT. He can't BELIEVE the stuff being pulled by the defense. He can HARDLY WAIT to nail Maxwell's hide to a wall. During the prosecution's closing argument, he seems to be enjoying himself, excited by the prospect of dishing out justice.

# The Draftee. This fair haired, early 50s woman complained about a draft she constantly feels in her seat. She sits next to The Tall Brunette, and frequently their facial expressions will be in sync. Once they both laughed, out loud, at something said by Defense Attorney Reed. It may have been the moment when he said, "Objection to ballparking!"

# The Dude Who Loves Sports. Young, athletic and handsome--though with a bad leg requiring elevation--the Dude doesn't conceal his emotional reactions. He's very interactive with his fellow jury members. When the jury is behind closed doors, Dude's voice floats loudly to the top, laughing and joking around. It's obvious which way he's leaning: Maxwell is guilty as sin and, to make matters worse, there is danger of dying from acute boredom.

# The soccer mom. This woman is as all-American as apple pie. Sitting next to Dude, she seems to have a motherly concern for him, and Dude's gregariousness makes her smile, slightly. Skepticism is apparent in the way her lip turns down, from time to time.

# Pink Ladies 1, 2, 3. This clique of women sits all together, has a penchant for wearing pink, sometimes red, and consists of, first, the older woman who gave up surgery to remain on duty. This woman crossed her arms almost as much as Dude when Larry Reed gave his closing arguments. She seems prepared to lower the boom on Maxwell. However, she's an alternate, so it appears she won't be lowering the boom on ANYBODY.

Second, the Smiler. This woman smiles with great frequency, sometimes deliberately looking at somebody--myself included--and flashing a smile of acknowledgement. Things that make jurors laugh ALWAYS make her laugh.

Something she found very amusing: Prosecutor Brad Johnson holding up the document with the signature space sliced out, looking through the hole in the page while Larry Reed objected to assertions the document had been "altered." It's a good thing she has a sense of humor: she's an alternate, and so her SEVEN WEEKS of sacrifice will be, arguably, nothing more than civic duty. One suspects, however, she played a role of being pleasant to her fellow jurors, so the sacrifice was not in vain.

Last, The Queen. A senior citizen with gray, flowing hair, she sits with a regal bearing front and center, conscious of her power. Who must be conviced? SHE must be convinced. She gives so many small nods that sometimes the movement seems slightly involuntary. During closing arguments, she was nodding in agreement to assertions by the prosecutor. She looked straight on at Larry Reed, never nodded. On the last day of closing arguments, she appears with a new hairdo, flashy earrings and--good lord!--a flowing scarf like a 1920s movie star. There's a strong chance this woman will be elected foreman.

# Loud Shirt Guy. Possibly the youngest juror of the bunch, he wears shirts that feature flame motifs and broad, short sleeves. He looks like an extra from Too Fast Too Furious. When he appears, I start hearing the soundtrack from the movie, "Bang" by Rye Rye.

My kid LOVED that show. For the record, in a spirit of full disclosure.

# Barrel O' Fun. A portly guy, he tries desperately to keep awake by forcefully, repeatedly blinking his eyes. Monday, wearing a root beer colored shirt, he reminded me of a barrel. This guy takes more notes than anybody else, holding his notepad at chest level. Just as Dude's facial expressions are a barometer of which way the jury might be leaning, so are the moments when Blinky is taking notes. Which way is he leaning? Toward the prosecution. Duh.

Barrel seems like, in another context, he could be the life of the party. Though not as socially confident as Dude, he strikes me as the kind of guy who would drink half a bottle of peppermint schnapps, then suggest climbing a tree. If Dude, Loud Shirt Guy and Barrel O' Fun got together, they would be the rat pack to challenge all other packs.

Which leads me to wonder: what friendships are being formed on this jury which might outlast the trial of Larry Maxwell? These jurors have been together a LONG time.

Brad Johnson's closing arguments were brief, supplemented by PowerPoint sides. He hardly wasted a single word, and when explaining concepts used exhibits that were actually in the trial as examples. Names floated up during closing arguments, and I had to wonder if any of these names could be some kind of thread, some kind of connection.

Trent Bowman. Ely Cummings. Bernard Holmes at 4503 York Avenue, who forged documents for money, and also could fix your computer. Larry Charles Smith and his company Checkmate Enterprises, Checkmate Auto. Denise Randall at First USA Title. Closings where fraud took place happened in Brooklyn Center, at First USA Title and Signature Title. "First Fridays," a networking group founded by Terrance Large. Michelle Edwards, Maxwell's "personal assistant extraordinaire. Maxwell called her his "person Friday."

Addresses are another valuable clue. I include this stuff so it will come up later in search engines, and folks who care about the property in question will learn of the colorful tale. Here are some ADDRESSES which came up in the course of these proceedings:

8900 12th Ave. S.

3000 Girard Ave. N.

2642 James Ave. N.

2731 Upton Ave. N.

411 Penn Ave. N.

3431 Penn Ave. N.

3123-25 Newton Ave. N.

The closing arguments by prosecution included some of this stuff:

THE TWO HATS OF LARRY MAXWELL. In certain situations, Larry Maxwell was not only a real estate agent but ALSO a mortgage broker. Lies were used to get lenders to part with funds, said Johnson. That's what this case is about.

A CLOSER WITH LITTLE CONSCIENCE. This phrase describes Glenda Coats. She knew something was wrong, but she didn't care as long as she was getting paid.

THE CHARACTER OF CHARACTER WITNESSES. Individuals like Joe Reed ("a delightful Southern gentleman") and Spike Moss and Greg Coleman and Ramona Graham Banks were revealing more about THEMSELVES, said Brad Johnson, than about Larry Maxwell. We learned these witnesses would show up to help a friend in trouble.

But what did we learn from these witnesses about MAXWELL? Mostly, said Johnson, that Maxwell was intelligent, capable, connected, somebody who could "turn a wheel" in the words of Joe Reed, i.e. a man who could get things done. Larry Maxwell used these abilities to deceive, to get away with fraud until finally cornered.

Maxwell was at the center as "The Dealmaker," Johnson asserted. Johnson made a point of reading an email to the jury which showed Larry Maxwell knew a lake home property in Henrico, North Carolina was NOT rented, not generating income for Tanya Patterson. Yet lease documents were altered, creating new documents to show a fictional stream of revenue from the property. At some point, though, Larry Maxwell exchanged heated emails with Tanya Patterson, blaming HER for the problems associated with the deal.

"If ever there was a person who was shouting through an email," Brad Johnson said, "this person was shouting through an email."

The angry missive reveals a side of Larry Maxwell not apparent to the jury. This soft-spoken man, who sits and hardly reacts most of the time, whose voice is nearly effeminate, is capable of writing a blistering tirade.

During the prosecution's closing, "Mrs. John Foster" is sitting behind me, and she snickers as fake notes are projected on the screen, purportedly writing about John Foster's living arrangements. A "Tina Foster" was invented out of thin air. Ah, Tina. Why don't you ever come home for Thanksgiving?

Brad Johnson came close to the jury, showing the document with the signature box sliced out. Essential stuff you need if you're going to forge documents and steal millions of dollars: scissor. Scotch tape. White correction fluid.

Johnson's power point slides featured excerpts of testimony from the witnesses who took the stand. There was not a single excerpt lacking an objection from Reed, none successful.

At another point, Johnson held up some dark blue closing packets on various properties, found in the possession of Larry Maxwell. Why didn't the imposter, Kingrussell, have this stuff? Kingrussell was, after all, acting in the role of "buyer."

Kingrussell didn't have the closing packets, said Johnson, because Kingrussell is "a crackhead" and "you don't want a crackhead running around...with this stuff." Word is Kingrussell was arrested in Iowa for trying to pass a forged check at an Indian casino.

At that moment, it seems to me I can perceive a red flush appear on Larry Maxwell's thick neck in response to this allegation about consorting with a crackhead, but Maxwell doesn't move, he doesn't flinch.

Johnson wrapped up this way: "In closing this closing, let me say this..."

Larry Maxwell is NOT responsible for all the mortgage fraud in Hennepin County. Don't go holding him accountable for all of that." However, in the matters charged, Larry Maxwell was the "common thread."

"He did it," said Johnson. "And he needs to own it." Convict Maxwell, Johnson urged, of all the counts charged.

In the hallway, during a break, John Foster's wife told me Detective Cory Cardenas is "her hero." She wants to make that clear. She wants those words to appear on my blog. DETECTIVE CORY CARDENAS IS A HERO.

Cardenas is striking in his immaculate grooming. There is something perpetually young about him, something innocent that would make a hardened criminal want to blurt out CORY, DON'T KNOW HOW IT IS!!! LET ME TELL YOU HOW IT IS, OUT ON THE STREETS!!!

Cardenas was not eager to pose for a photo--he waved his arms to keep that "hero" word away from himself, god lord!--but John Foster's wife talked him into the photo, above.

The closing arguments for the defense were not supplemented by any slides. Reed seems rather "old school" about technology. Indeed, he frequently relies on help from the prosecutor to work the machine which projects documents on a screen.

The closing began almost as an apology: please don't hold his client, Larry Maxwell, responsible for anything he, Larry Reed, had done wrong in the course of the trial.

The main body of Reed's closing was a rambling litany of excuses and insinuations about other people being guilty. He actually called Larry Maxwell an "innocent dupe." You have to wonder if anybody tried that defense the LAST time Maxwell was convicted of, inter alia, forging documents as part of a loan transaction.

Reed clearly wanted the jurors to STAY AWAY FROM THE MOUNTAIN OF PAPERWORK. There was, Reed said, no need to consider "all that paper" to make a decision in this case. They could rely on their common sense. He wanted to talk about JUSTICE, here. JUSTICE. The statute for racketeering was, Reed asserted, confusing "mumbo jumbo."

Reed then launched into an extended attack on the character of Detective Cory Cardenas. Cardenas had lied, said Reed, and "disregarded leads" and "made a false report" and "disregarded what Kingrussell said." In place of Larry Maxwell, the defense attorney offered up the equivalent of the "one armed man" in The Fugitive. What about the mysterious guy in a "Magnum" sports car, who had approached Kingrussell on the street and offered him money to impersonate a property buyer at some closings. Like Perry Mason, like Matlock, Larry Reed reveals the REAL mastermind: The man in the Magnum.

I have to wonder if there's a connection to their "expert" witness from Georgia, who graduated "magnum (sic) cum laude."

"Excuse me while I puke," John Foster's wife wrote on a note to me, as Reed went on-and-on-and-on about how Cardenas had said it was "OK to lie to make the case...you don't lie to try to make the case."

It's pretty clear to me Reed is not going for an acquittal. No, rather, Maxwell's only thin thread of hope is that somewhere among the jurors--perhaps the Loud Shirt Guy, or Barrel O' Fun, or the Asian guy who hardly reacts to ANYTHING, just listens, intently--one of these jurors had a really bad experience with a police officer, and they'd be willing to take out their hidden inner fury on somebody like Detective Cardenas. Or maybe they could see Larry Maxwell as the product of deeply-rooted forces of social injustice, a sort of mortgage fraud Robin Hood--and they might be willing to be the "jurist revolutionary" who goes against the crowd, alone, in the name of some private form of idealism phrased--the whole while--as nothing more than "reasonable doubt."

Reed tried to shift the blame to Tynesia Snoddy, saying it was Snoddy who had the fake ID, and she went about trying to find somebody to buy the property at 1564 Hillside. It was Snoddy who fabricated and created (like you really need BOTH those words!) this fake John Foster.

At the moment Reed calls Maxwell an "innocent dupe," The Dude Who Loves Sports can hardly keep the disbelief out of his face.

"They throw out mud and hope some of the mud sticks," said Reed of the prosecution, though this description sounded MYSTERIOUSLY like his own defense strategy. At one point, Brad Johnson objected in the course of Reed's closing argument. The judge looked at the jury and said, "The law will be as the JUDGE instructs."

Reed made an extended argument about "incentives" and "commission rebates," saying there was "nothing wrong with it!" He attacked Tanya Patterson--though hardly as much as he attacked Cory Cardenas--calling her "the internet savvy real estate guru" by her own description on her own website.

Now, said Reed, Patterson was, like, "I'm a dummy, I don't know anything, I'm unsophisticated."

Reed pointed out--again and again--other property transactions that had not been charged. If there was anything wrong, wouldn't THOSE have been charged? Never mind there are more than a dozen charges already, and the jury has been here SEVEN WEEKS, and what's charged ALREADY is enough to send his client to prison for life.

As for Donald Williams, Reed said, "When I said, 'Hello, Donald' he said 'Hello.'"

Well, there you have it. Reasonable doubt. IN THE BIZARRO UNIVERSE.

Reed asserted "Donald Williams" (who was born Tyrone Tyson Williams) is still at that house at 411 Penn Ave. N., living under his "dual identity." How was Mr. Maxwell supposed to know who he is? Williams also went by the name "Pop." Pop, Pop, Pop. The soap bubbles of conjecture which Larry Reed tries to transform into the gold bricks of a solid defense are floating all over the courtroom, and our fancies are filled for a moment with mysterious men in Magnums, "dual identities" we can assume when the need serves us, and, of course, elaborate practical jokes.

The fake drivers license? It was "a joke not intended to be used." Yes, I think every buyer of a house has contemplated showing up at closing with a fake drivers license, just for giggles.

Bernard Holmes got off easy in Maxwell's closing. This guy who--the prosecution says--cranked out fake documents for money--was described as merely Maxwell's "computer doctor" and nothing else.

In "closing his closing," Reed tried to say the proof beyond ALL reasonable doubt versus the proof beyond a REASONABLE doubt is "so thin you could get a sheet of paper between them." Such a fantasy assertion requires a response from somewhere, and so I respond: the mass of that "sheet of paper" is so great it would break your foot if dropped from even a very small height. Every law student should be required to contemplate the phrase "and monkeys MIGHT fly out of my butt" and arrive at a revelation of its meaning.

This disorganized final argument by the defense took FOREVER. The clock crept toward five o'clock, then five PAST five. On my notepad, I told John Foster's wife: "I swear, it's like a FILIBUSTER!" and she nodded in agreement.

With his long closing argument, Reed succeeded in keeping the jury out of deliberations ONE MORE DAY. Prosecutor Brad Johnson will have to give his rebuttal closing in the morning. In the back of the courtroom, Marlon Pratt--part of the Donald Walthall Universal Mortgage crew, who has retained Larry Reed as his attorney--watched intensely, wearing a fine brown leather coat with, it appeared, hand stitching on the sleeve.

NOTE: MOST OF THIS STORY WAS DRAFTED LATE LAST NIGHT. THE JURY IS NOW OUT. MORE TO FOLLOW.