What a long, strange case it is

Former Orange County Sheriff Mike Carona’s defense against federal corruption charges may wrap up as early as the end of the week. But with Christmas nine days away, jurors will pack up their pens, notebooks and memory banks and begin a two-week holiday. The trial will resume in early 2009.

Will visions of sugarplums and New Year’s resolutions dance in jurors’ heads, or will they instead be pondering the unusual relationship between Carona and former Assistant Sheriff Don Haidl, two men who apparently developed political love at first sight in 1998 but end 2008 as centerpieces of the government’s case?

You couldn’t blame them if it’s the latter.

Jurors know how corruption cases are supposed to go. The man with the money (in this case, millionaire businessman Haidl) approaches the public official and says, “Here’s the money, here’s what I want in return.”

Or, the public official makes the initial contact and says, “If you give me the money, here’s what I’ll give you.”

The government’s theory and Haidl’s testimony make it less clear-cut than either scenario. Orange County apparently isn’t Illinois, where feds are charging Gov. Rod Blagojevich with, among other things, a willingness to sell the U.S. Senate seat vacated by President-elect Barack Obama.

All Carona offered, according to Haidl’s testimony, was a non-paying assistant sheriff’s job. Haidl described it as something of a plum, although he also testified that he didn’t lobby for it. Nor was he sure right away that he even wanted it, he said.

He accepted it, he said, to gain “full access and power” from the department and to make money on business deals that came through the department.

He made it clear on the witness stand, however, that that concept never really paid off. In fact, Haidl testified, he lost money during the five-plus years he spent on the job. He testified that he gave Carona $1,000 a month over a four-year period, and spent about $200,000 trying to bail out the law firm of Carona’s former mistress and providing her with cash.

Not surprisingly then, Carona attorney Jeff Rawitz spent some time last week trying to get FBI Agent Anthony Alston to say that bribery was a central aspect of the case against Carona. Without saying so, Rawitz left the implication, Some bribe -- Haidl gives illegal payments to Carona, yet demands nothing upfront and, even when he’s offered something, isn’t even sure he wants it.

But even if that doesn’t conform to your garden-variety corruption case, the defense team has some problems. There’s no one to rebut Haidl’s claim that he handed the illegal monthly payments to Carona. And there are some secretly recorded conversations between the two that, at best, would seem to require some explaining by Carona.

Of course, jurors may conclude that Haidl is making up the story of direct cash payments to Carona. That would make their deliberations a lot simpler.

Why would Haidl do such a thing? Rawitz made sure last week that jurors haven’t forgotten that Haidl has pleaded guilty only to a single count of filing a false tax return in exchange for helping the government make its case against Carona. He reminded them that the man who testified to making illegal cash payments and illegal campaign contributions has gotten what looks like a sweetheart deal -- if he helps nail Carona.

But even if jurors believe Haidl’s version of events, it may provoke some head-scratching because Haidl didn’t testify that Carona demanded the payments as a condition of keeping his assistant sheriff’s job.

Rather, Haidl testified that he came up with the idea himself to pay Carona and his top aide, George Jaramillo, so the two wouldn’t fall prey to other potential corrupting influences that might derail their careers.

In short, the Haidl-Carona arrangement -- which remains the crux of the case against the former sheriff -- may strike jurors as benign bribery. One good pal “bribing” another.

That doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be illegal, but let’s stipulate that it would be the government’s worst nightmare if jurors, for whatever reasons, believed the illegal payments occurred but didn’t see them as the classic shakedown or “selling” of an office.

But for Carona’s defense team, the thought that jurors could somehow get to that place would make for a most festive holiday season.

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dana.parsons@latimes.com