Newark, NJ – Judge in Dwek Corruption Case Says Limits Have to be Put on the Power of Government

Newark, NJ – The image strikes Jose Linares at odd times. In his top floor office in the King building in Newark. Or on the bench in his courtroom, presiding over a complicated trial.

A little boy on a farm near Havana, his life turned upside down by forces he didn’t understand. His father taken away to jail for things he said.

“It was very scary,” says Linares, the federal judge who will preside over most, maybe all, the trials arising out of the massive government sting operation that last July netted politicians, public officials, rabbis and others.

“I think about the power of government and how limits have to be put on it,” says Linares, whose family escaped Cuba in 1965, when he was 12.

“You can’t have experiences like those I did and not have a sense of the injustice inherent in total government control.”

Linares won’t talk about the case he’s handling now, the bribery and extortion trial of Leona Beldini, the suspended deputy mayor of Jersey City. He also won’t talk about any of the pending corruption cases.

But it’s clear from how Linares conducts his trials that he is willing to give breaks to the defense in criminal trials, the side that faces a powerful government, and enjoys constitutional guarantees like the presumption of innocence.

An example: In arguments how Linares should charge the jury, Beldini’s scrappy and theatrical defense lawyer, Brian Neary, asked him to bring up testimony about the character of the government’s main witness, con artist Solomon Dwek.

But there was a problem. No character witnesses had appeared at trial to talk about Dwek’s reputation. Dwek himself, under Neary’s crossexamination, admitted he had no friends, no one in his Syrian Sephardic Jewish community trusted him, and not even his parents would speak to him.

“Why can’t Dwek’s testimony be used?” asked Linares when prosecutor Thomas Calcagni objected. He finally ruled he would instruct the jurors they could consider Dwek’s own testimony about his own bad character in judging his credibility.

Linares also made it clear the jurors must know political contributions given to public officials — even by people who want favors from government — are a “permissible and necessary” part of how government operates. Beldini is charged with taking contributions as bribes to do favors for a fictitious developer, David Esenbach, played by Dwek under the direction of the FBI.

But that doesn’t mean Linares favors the defense. While the judge gave Neary a lot of leeway in his cross-examination, he also scolded the lawyer for suggesting the government had no right to use a man like Dwek as a witness. He also denied Neary’s post-testimony motion to dismiss the indictment.

Linares was a trial lawyer himself, a good one, according to Sheldon Bross, the Newark lawyer who first hired the young attorney 30 years ago.

“As soon as he walked into my office, I knew he was going to be good,” says Bross. Linares, who spent two years with the New York City Department of Investigations after Temple Law School, left Bross’s firm to start his own. They remain friends — Linares even attends the Weequahic alumni celebrations Bross produces.

After escaping to Spain, his family — mother, father and five sons — came to the United States. They first lived in Verona, but were evicted from an apartment because of the noise the five boys made. That incident sealed his interest in the law.

“We had a lawyer who was able to get us time to move and find a new place to live,” Linares says. “I realized then there were people who could do things to help others. I wanted to be one of them.”

The new place was Newark’s North Ward. He graduated from Immaculate Conception High School in Montclair where he played football. The coach at Jersey City State saw the 6-foot-2-inch offensive lineman and wanted him.

“My parents didn’t know anything about applying to colleges,” he recalls. “We just knew this college wanted me, so I went.”

Jersey City State — now New Jersey City University — hadn’t won a conference championship before and hasn’t since. But it did for two years when Jose “Joe” Linares provided blocks for a tall, rangy quarterback named Joe DiVincenzo, now the Essex County executive.

“I never got hit from his side,” says DiVincenzo, who knew Linares from the North Ward.

“He’s a great guy, a real family guy — was then and is now,” says Democrat DiVincenzo. He says they are still friends — “although Joe is a Republican.”

Linares’ ties to both the Hispanic legal community and the state’s Republicans helped his career. Another friend is Bill Palatucci, once the law partner of former U.S. attorney, now Gov. Chris Christie. Palatucci was an early supporter of George W. Bush’s 2000 presidential campaign. Former governor Christie Whitman considered Linares for Essex County prosecutor, but then appointed him to the state court.

Linares was almost immediately chosen for the federal bench — there were no regularly assigned Latino trial court judges in the state before he was appointed. He has presided over high profile cases — the state’s suit over the proposed purchase of port management rights by a Dubai company, for example. But he maintains a low profile. He runs quiet, understated trials and prides himself on keeping his calendar.

“I love trials,” he says. “I love to see good professionals working well.”

While he enjoys criminal trials, he dreads sentencing.

“I absolutely hate it,” says Linares. “It’s my responsibility, but I hate to do it.”

Despite the power of his office and his physical bulk, Linares has a shy gentleness about him. He calls his family his main source of relaxation. He and his wife have three children. The youngest is a varsity athlete headed to the University of Rhode Island. Linares identifies his mother, a teacher and psychologist, as his model, his ideal. “She loved people and she always told me to consider what other people are going through before you judge them,” he says. She died before he became a judge. “I often can’t believe I am here,” he says in his office. “Never in a million years would I have believed that little boy in Havana or that kid growing up in Newark would be sitting here now.”