Rowlandâ€™s legal bills top $500K, but whoâ€™s paying?

Photo: Bebeto Matthews / Associated Press

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Former Gov. John Rowland leaves federal appeals court on March 18 in New York.

Photo: Bebeto Matthews / Associated Press

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Former Connecticut Gov. John Rowland leaves federal appeals court in New York City earlier this month.

Photo: Associated Press File Photo

John G. Rowland ^[1] still has expensive taste.

As Connecticut's governor, it was for Cuban cigars, custom suits, wine lockers and tropical junkets — bribes that resulted in his resignation and imprisonment.

A dozen years later, it's for lawyers — the best that money can buy.

Whose money is the mystery confounding politicians and lawyers throughout the state, who conservatively estimate that Rowland's legal bills in his ongoing campaign fraud case exceed $500,000.

Despite public representations that his family's savings has been wiped out by legal bills, Rowland has scraped together the funds for a trial and appeal, a feat that some say highlights the staying power and connections of even scandal-plagued politicians.

"They can land on their feet in ways that mere mortals like you and I can't," said Todd Fernow ^[2], the longtime director of the Criminal Clinic ^[3] at the University of Connecticut ^[4] Law School.

The campaign fraud case led to a second felony conviction for Rowland, who is facing 30 months in prison for getting paid under the table as a political consultant on the 2012 congressional campaign of fellow Republican Lisa Wilson-Foley.

The 58-year-old Rowland remains free on appeal bond while his bid for a new trial is decided by a federal court in Manhattan, in a process that began last year. Rowland is being represented by Andrew Fish ^[5], a former prosecutor who specializes in white-collar criminal cases and is said by multiple legal sources to command $800 to $1,000 in hourly fees.

Neither Rowland nor Fish responded to requests for comment from Hearst Connecticut Media.

Finding the money

One plausible explanation for how Rowland is able to afford a marquee defense is that a secret network of benefactors and political allies is helping him, according to several people familiar with the dynamics of the high-profile case. They say it wouldn't be unusual for there to be a legal defense fund or for payments to be made directly to Rowland's lawyers.

"Someone's picking up the tab for all this stuff," said a top-level source close to the investigation of Rowland.

If anyone can schmooze people into chipping in for his defense, it would be Rowland, said James Bergenn ^[6], a Hartford lawyer who volunteered to speak on Rowland's behalf at last year's sentencing. A self-identified Democrat, Bergenn empathized with Rowland after the former governor counseled his clients about prison life.

"He still may be the most talented natural politician that we've seen in our lifetime in Connecticut," Bergenn said. "I believe there may be some people who are contributing."

Rowland is also widely believed to be tapping his retirement nest egg to cover his legal bills, which multiple people familiar with the workings of the case say subjected Rowland to a 10 percent tax on early distributions because he's under 59 1/2 years old.

The youngest governor in Connecticut history who was elected to three terms, Rowland is drawing $52,748 in annual pension payments from the state, according to a spokeswoman for the comptroller's office. He also receives medical, dental and prescription coverage, which costs state taxpayers about $2,000 a month. When he turns 62, Rowland will become eligible for a $9,000 annual federal pension for the six years he served in Congress.

Rowland is exempt from a state pension revocation law for public officials convicted of corruption, however, because it was passed after his resignation and imprisonment for accepting bribes from state contractors.

Since the twilight of his tenure as governor, Rowland has surrounded himself with an all-star team of lawyers, including William Dow III ^[7], the New Haven attorney who handled Rowland's impeachment trial. But it's unclear whether Dow, who declined to comment, was paid for his services.

Said one of Dow's peers in the legal community, "All of us get burned."

Rowland's last known source of work income was his radio-host gig on WTIC-AM, which he relinquished in April 2014 after he was indicted for campaign fraud, conspiracy and obstruction of justice. Before that, he was economic development director for the Chamber of Commerce ^[8] in his native Waterbury, a $100,000-a-year job that he held from 2008 to 2012.

"Over the last two years, we've lost our savings," Rowland's wife, former Connecticut first lady Patty Rowland, told a judge last March at his sentencing. "John has lost all he worked for and all he valued."

One of Rowland's closest confidantes is said by many people to be Fritz Blasius ^[9], owner of Loehmann Blasius Chevrolet Cadillac in Waterbury. In 2015, Blasius purchased the Chippanee Country Club ^[10] in Bristol, where a source said Rowland may have found employment.

"He's not here right now," said a person answering the phone at the club Thursday.

Blasius did not respond to a request for comment.

"People who have watched Rowland over the years know that he has connections with people who have been willing to financially support him through tough times. Is this one of those times?" said Scott McLean ^[11], a political science professor at Quinnipiac University ^[12] in Hamden.

Rowland's case centers on whether he conspired with Wilson-Foley to hide his work on her 5th District campaign from the Federal Election Commission ^[13] by receiving $35,000 in payments from a nursing home owned by the candidate's husband, Brian Foley ^[14].

Possible discounts

Prosecutors say Rowland pitched a similar sham to GOP congressional candidate Mark Greenberg ^[15] in 2010, but was rebuffed by the Litchfield businessman. The proposed contract was a key piece of evidence in their case that Rowland falsified documents, which is illegal under a 2002 law known as the Sarbanes-Oxley Act.

"You could have 10 associates working 10,000 hours each just to get to the bottom of Sarbanes-Oxley," Fernow said.

Because of Rowland's stature and the sluggish economy, some say it's not out of the question that Rowland's lawyers could be willing to accept less.

"Representing a governor is a good thing for a person in this business," Bergenn said. "Good lawyers who have kind of made enough, who are not afraid whether they'll make their mortgage, they're actually motivated in these kind of cases."

Reid Weingarten ^[16], the Washington, D.C.-based power lawyer who represented Rowland during the trial phase of the case, did not respond to a request for comment. His other clients have included Roman Polanski ^[17], Jesse Jackson ^[18] Jr. and Goldman Sachs CEO Lloyd Blankfein ^[19].

Some members of the legal community frowned upon the idea of a Rowland discount.

"I don't think the price tag can or should take into account the infamy of your client," Fernow said. "Ethically and tactically, standing on the shoulders of your criminal-defendant client is not a great way to sell yourself."

But another variable perhaps working in Rowland's favor, some say, is his earning potential on the public speaking circuit or from a future book deal.

"He'll find ways to make money," Fernow said.

neil.vigdor@scni.com; 203-625-4436; http://twitter.com/gettinviggy ^[20]