There was Conrad Black headed up to look at a little newspaper in Prince Rupert.

It's one of those trials that come around from time to time, one that seems to take on a life of it's own. Money, greed and betrayal all the elements of a whodunnit without a dead body!

Most of Canada's media is following the trials and tribulations of Conrad Black and David Radler, today we heard passing comment on Prince Rupert's wee bit part in the unfolding Conrad Black drama in Chicago!


The rat stumbles out of the blocks
May 08, 2007 Jennifer Wells
Business columnist
The Toronto Star

At just past noon, he arrived.

The rat. The traitor. The turncoat.

He walked slowly. His head was bent. He would have looked like a penitent, were it not for the blazingly pink tie and the sombre suit.

And the loafers. Penitents might not wear loafers.

He moved to the front of the courtroom, where the daily flock of lawyers awaited.

He passed the partner to whom he had been married longer than anyone else.

He was sworn in. He seated himself. And, when asked the simple question as to when he met Conrad Black, Franklin David Radler replied, "late 1971 or early 1972."

Lordy, lordy. For a brief second I thought the entire trial should be tossed right out the window onto Dearborn Ave,, for if the star witness, who has pleaded guilty to fraud and is co-operating with the prosecution, can't remember when he met the man of the hour after days of coaching, then what is one to do?

"Sorry!" Radler quickly called from the stand, raising his right hand as he called out to assistant U.S. attorney Eric Sussman, like a boy seeking the teacher's attention. "I take that back."

Radler corrected himself. It was 1969 when he met Conrad Black at Au Lutin Qui Bouffe, the Montreal restaurant run by David Radler's father. A fellow named Peter White had a notion to buy a newspaper. Would the others care to join in?

And so began the telling of the tale of Mr. Black, Mr. White and Mr. Radler, or, as I once dubbed them, corporate reservoir dogs.

The threesome bought a money-losing English paper in a French-speaking town, Radler explained to the jury. Soon enough, Mr. White's role was diminished and a partnership perhaps unlike any other in Canadian corporate history was set.

"I was impressed with Mr. Black's knowledge and his ability. I thought he would be a great partner," said the star witness, who, as expected, was aglow in his ever-present tan.
He said this calmly, by the way. He smiled. He laughed on occasion.

There were no smiles that I could see playing on the lips of Conrad Black.

For the early part of Radler's testimony, Black's eyes appeared to be ping-ponging everywhere for fear of landing on the shiny pate of the one-time partner who has betrayed him.

Black had brought in reinforcements. His son, Jonathan, was seated in the courtroom alongside his daughter, Alana, and his wife, Barbara Amiel Black.

Radler appeared at ease, even when arising from the witness stand to point to elements of a chart for the jury, who have surely seen enough charts and read enough emails to last a lifetime.
David Radler does not do email. "I don't know how," he said yesterday.

The exchange reminded me of an ages ago conversation I had with Dick Chant, now departed but once a key lieutenant in the long-ago Argus days when there was no such thing as email.

He told me then that David Radler was a white-knuckle flier and that he was a "strange guy on energy. He goes along on a high and then he has to stop and regenerate his batteries."

Over the years, Radler had so much on his plate. Running Dominion Stores, by example, a business, he admitted yesterday, about which he knew nothing.

Radler would retreat, Chant said, to Palm Springs, to recharge.

It was David Radler, deal guy, who was on display yesterday, but often in the company of Conrad Black.

There was Conrad Black headed up to look at a little newspaper in Prince Rupert.

There was Conrad Black handling the transaction to purchase a paper in Prince Edward Island.
There were endless phone calls between the two men parsing all manner of financial and marketing matters.

In other words, Radler testified, even though Black operationally ran London and even though Radler operationally ran Chicago and its tiny-town tie-ons, the two historically moved in lock-step.

And, on at least the matter of compensation paid to executives by Ravelston, the top company above Hollinger, Radler operated as a direct report to Black.

Black was the boss.

Where does this get us?

Not very darned far, I can tell you.

Though I observed two journalists and one defence counsel nodding off, I swear it was not because the words "non-compete fees" were being used overly.

On the contrary, through his direct examination of David Radler yesterday, Eric Sussman didn't get close to the whole fraud business – as in, the improper funnelling of monies as a result of a bunch of newspaper sales.

David Radler will testify to that. That's why he's up there.

"I pled guilty to fraud, to taking money from Hollinger International in circumstances that were not allowed," he said in his opening testimony.

This morning David Radler must tell us how he did that.

Before the day is out, Eddie Greenspan will have moved in for the cross-examination, or, undoubtedly in Greenspan's mind, the kill.