A Bad Courthouse Soap Opera

In Cleveland, charges of influence peddling and a judge's jilting

The whole thing, said one involved lawyer, was "a bizarre situation that reads like a bad script for a television soap opera." To be called, possibly, Scandal in the Courtroom, or maybe just The Judges. For the principal players in a black-robe drama currently unfolding in Cleveland are two federal judges. One has been accused of helping relatives and friends to get lucrative fees and jobs. The other has been accused of making some of the charges--baselessly--in order to get revenge on a lawyer-lover who jilted her.

The plot begins at a 1981 Christmas party when, says U.S. District Court Judge Ann Aldrich, young lawyer told her that he would be receiving a cut of his firm's fees in the White Motor Corp. bankruptcy case, which was under Aldrich's jurisdiction. The lawyer, Gino Battisti, had recently joined the firm of Climaco, Seminatore, Lefkowitz and Kaplan, and was the nephew of U.S. District Court Chief Judge Frank Battisti. Some months later the local press began to publish reports on the conduct of the blustery and powerful judge. Last March a federal grand jury started looking into charges that he had used his influence to benefit relatives and friends.

Among the questions before the panel: Was the Climaco firm appointed examiner in the White Motor bankruptcy (possible fee: $1 million) as a payoff for hiring Nephew Gino? The firm was chosen by Bankruptcy Judge Mark Schlachet, a Battisti protege and the son-in-law of one of Battisti's close friends. Schlachet resigned last year while under investigation for improperly giving high-paying court appointments to friends.

What might have remained a more or less standard influence-peddling inquiry became more titillating last month when Judge Aldrich made public her role in the investigation. Remembering her Christmas-party chat, she decided to check out Nephew Gino with one of the Climaco partners, Shimon Kaplan. According to Aldrich, Kaplan told her that young Battisti had received $41,000 in bonuses, roughly 10% of all fees from cases "attributable" to his uncle. Stunned by Aldrich's assertion, Kaplan and the Climaco firm formally denied making any deals with Judge Battisti or his nephew.

Speaking for his partners, John Climaco accused Aldrich, 55, of attacking the firm because of a faltering romance with Kaplan, 42, who had been her student at a local law school. Kaplan said bluntly, "I believe Judge Aldrich's actions are an attempt to get even with me and my law firm for my refusing to marry her." In a letter to his colleagues he wrote:

"Why did she do it? We were involved, and she must have loved me too much. I must have hurt her deeply, and for that I'm sorry." Aldrich concedes they had a "platonic" relationship but says that had nothing to do with her accusation. She muddled matters further by admitting that Kaplan had helped her write some opinions.

It will probably be months before the grand jury decides whether to indict Battisti, and it is not clear if anyone will review Aldrich's role. For the moment, though, one certain casualty of the scandal is the dignity of Cleveland's federal bench. Says one of its judges: "I wish this were all a bad dream and we could wake up and say it's over." This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.