MEET THE SPECIAL COUNSEL TEAM: ‘CAREFUL’ DOESN’T COME CLOSE
The Manafort graft trial is providing the first glimpse of the prosecutors who could decide Trump’s fate
Greg D Andres looked like any ordinary guest at the Westin hotel here, standing near the valet in flip-flops and a white Notre Dame boxing T-shirt, waiting for a Postmates delivery from Shake Shack. The moment would be unremarkable save for Mr Andres’ role as the lead prosecutor for the special counsel, Robert Mueller, in the trial of Paul Manafort, concluding its third week here. Even the briefest glimpses of Mr Mueller’s investigators, who have spoken publicly only in court papers and short court appearances since the inquiry began, draw notice.
Mr Manafort’s tax and bank fraud trial has provided the first real look at the special counsel’s team, the elusive players in the central drama of Washington political life and the subjects of fascination for the capital’s chattering classes. Tagged by President Donald Trump as “17 angry Democrats”, they have shown themselves to be typical, if harried, government lawyers, staying at the hotel opposite the courthouse to devote most of their waking hours to trying the case.
Other members of the special counsel’s office have joined Mr Andres in the courtroom, including Andrew Weissmann, one of Mr Mueller’s top deputies, who oversaw the prosecution from a seat in the back. Like a basketball coach during timeouts, he huddled with the others during recesses for strategy sessions, clutching a green government-issue notebook that the rest of the team used during the trial, making them easy to identify.
The prosecutors snacked on Life Savers and orange-coloured Starburst candy from jars that sat near Judge T S Ellis III. They drank from worn foam cups marked with their initials. Next to them sat a black catering-style cart labelled “Property of SCO” — Special Counsel’s Office — piled with binders of documents. Mr Mueller’s spokesman, Peter Carr, whose “no comment” replies have become a running dark joke among the Washington press corps, sat in the gallery. He would not even confirm Mr Andres’ order from Shake Shack, deferring to reportorial observation. Nor would Mr Andres himself. Asked later whether he had in fact ordered Shake Shack, he laughed, then paused.
“I can’t say,” he said, his usual response when journalists at the hotel asked him about his work as he strolled the lobby juggling half-eaten bags of Lay’s potato chips, Starbucks beverages and Diet Coke, his hair tousled and tie loosened. He did wonder aloud on Wednesday outside the gift shop, which is filled with postcards and key chains celebrating Mr Trump’s inauguration, whether he had included every important detail during his final rebuttal after closing arguments.
As the prosecutors have shuttled between the courtroom and the hotel, they have found themselves in tight spaces with Mr Manafort’s lawyers and reporters, testing their professional and social boundaries. The two sides went out of their way to be civil, bantering and making small talk about sports and work, a person close to Manafort’s defence team said.
Encounters with reporters have proved more delicate. In one instance, Uzo Asonye, one of the special counsel prosecutors, stepped into an elevator with a colleague whom he stopped mid-sentence. “Stop,” he said, gesturing to the reporter’s press badge. He held up his hand to silence her. He turned to the reporter with a smile. “Sorry. I can’t talk to you.”
The prosecutors’ habits are to be expected in such a big case, former members of independent counsel teams said. The difference this time is the magnitude of the investigation paired with an era of instant news. “This is unusual,” said Solomon L Wisenberg, a deputy independent counsel who was selected by Judge Kenneth W Starr to handle the grand jury questioning of President Bill Clinton. “This is a major, major trial with intense press interest in an era when you have 24-hour cable news.”
Perhaps no member of Mr Mueller’s team has drawn more curiosity than the special counsel himself, who has not spoken about the inquiry. The void has filled with speculation about the smallest observations — even about his choice of wristwatch, the hyper-accurate Casio DW-290, which he wears with the face on the inside of his wrist.
Public sightings of him are scarce. A New York Times reporter spotted Mr Mueller leaving a 7-Eleven convenience store in Washington on a Saturday morning this winter in a cinched-waist parka and gym clothes, walking to a small sport utility vehicle. Mr Mueller got behind the wheel, made a U-turn to cross a double yellow line and drove away.
Most of the sightings draw buzz. A photo of Mr Mueller waiting to cross a street in downtown Washington made the rounds on social media. Last month, Politico published a photograph of Mr Mueller feet away from Donald Trump Jr at a gate at Reagan National Airport. The image quickly boomeranged around Twitter and was picked up by many news outlets.