Prosecutor Stephen G. Dambruch, makes closing arguments to the jury in trial of former CVS executives John R. Kramer, far right, and Carlos Ortiz, right. Judge Mary Lisi presides.

Journal Illustration / frank Gerardi

PROVIDENCE — The two faces of John Celona — and of CVS — were on display in federal court yesterday as jurors heard more than four hours of closing arguments in the federal corruption case against former drugstore executives John R. “Jack” Kramer and Carlos Ortiz.

The prosecution argued that Celona abused his political office for CVS’ gain, at the behest of Kramer and Ortiz. The defense countered that Celona was hired for legitimate purposes, promoting CVS charities on his cable-access television show –– work that was permissible under Rhode Island law defining the state’s “citizen legislator” form of government.

Noting that Celona was paid out of CVS’ political contributions account, Assistant Attorney General Stephen G. Dambruch asked jurors: “Could it be that this was really about government affairs and legislation? That’s what’s at the core of this. You saw John Celona. You saw the show. CVS is a billion-dollar corporation. They’re going to hire John Celona and his public access show? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Defense lawyers countered that Celona honored his bargain with CVS, promoting the Woonsocket-based drugstore chain and its charitable endeavors on his show and also among senior citizens. But they contended that the former North Providence senator, imprisoned for selling his office, did not honor his bargain with federal prosecutors in exchange for a lighter prison sentence, lying repeatedly on the stand to implicate the defendants.

“Some might think that that it wasn’t a good idea to engage a state senator, no matter how honest your intentions are,” said a lawyer for Kramer, David B. Fein. “But that discussion belongs in a corporate office in Woonsocket, Rhode Island, not a federal courtroom in Providence, Rhode Island.”

Echoing Fein, Ortiz’s lawyer Thomas R. Kiley said, “This is a case about disclosure, not deceit.”

Based on the evidence, said Kiley, jurors should ask themselves: “What was in Carlos Ortiz’s mind? Did he have a specific intent to conspire with Jack Kramer, to concoct a scheme?”

The defendants are not accused of “making payments in brown paper bags, stuffing cash in envelopes,” said Fein. Instead, they signed a consulting agreement with Celona and paid him through normal accounting channels at CVS after Celona assured them that he had cleared it with the Rhode Island Ethics Commission.

Dambruch argued that Celona’s consulting agreement did not mention his TV show, that Celona didn’t submit regular reports on what he was doing and that, one year into the relationship, CVS’ media spokesman wrote up a job description and came up with a title for Celona in case a reporter ever asked.

Dambruch also showed jurors written communications between Kramer, Ortiz and Celona, in which the CVS executives sent the senator information about legislation of interest to CVS and, in one instance, asked him to introduce a bill allowing doctors to send prescriptions to Rhode Island pharmacies electronically.

Kiley argued that the communications were innocuous, allowed under Rhode Island ethics laws since the legislation affected all pharmacies, not just CVS. He also cited two other bills, including one raising the minimum wage, that Celona supported and CVS opposed during their consulting arrangement, which ran from early 2000 to the fall of 2003.

The government’s case didn’t make sense, argued Kiley, because Celona was a powerless “back bencher” when CVS hired him and a powerful committee chairman when they terminated him.

“If you are going to bribe somebody to carry your legislative water, are you going to hire a back bencher, who doesn’t have the power to do anything?” asked Kiley. “And are you going to fire him 3½ years later when he now has a position of power and can do something to help you?”

Dambruch devoted much of his one-hour summation to methodically laying out a paper trail of Celona’s legislative dealings on behalf of CVS and also raising questions, through the testimony of CVS employees, about the nature of Celona’s consulting work.

The prosecutor described how Celona changed his position favoring pharmacy choice legislation, which CVS opposed, skipping out on a key committee vote just a few weeks after CVS hired him.

Dambruch also highlighted internal performance reviews by Kramer and Ortiz in which they identified killing pharmacy choice legislation as a top achievement and a continuing goal. Killing it in 1999 protected “millions of dollar in sales,” wrote Ortiz. In commending Ortiz, Kramer wrote that passage of the legislation “might have cost CVS millions of dollars in profit.” Another document referred to “potential lost sales in millions.”

After Celona became a committee chairman in 2001, overseeing legislation affecting CVS, he dealt with Kramer and Ortiz on legislative matters, advocated for a loan-reduction program for pharmacy students from his seat on the Rhode Island Student Loan Authority, and introduced, at Ortiz’s request, legislation allowing the electronic filing of prescriptions.

Furthermore, Dambruch argued, Kramer and Ortiz concealed Celona’s consulting agreement from others. When Ortiz mentioned Celona’s consulting job to a colleague, Ortiz asked him not to tell anybody.

Dambruch also read from Ortiz’s 2005 Rhode Island grand jury testimony, in which he said that he had had “a bad feeling” about Celona’s hiring, that “it didn’t smell right” and he “didn’t think it was right.”

Fein, who spoke for nearly two hours, began by calling this “a very unusual criminal case” — one in which the government had failed to produce any evidence that Kramer and Ortiz had any criminal intent when they hired Celona.

The defense didn’t call any witnesses, said Fein, because they didn’t need to. The defense, he said, had turned the tables on the prosecution, proving beyond a reasonable doubt that “the only intent” Kramer had was to get on Celona’s television show to promote the CVS Charity Classic Golf Tournament, the CVS Downtown 5K and other charitable endeavors.

“CVS bought air time, not votes,” said Fein. “Mr. Kramer acted in complete good faith in engaging Mr. Celona.”

Even if Celona had been a credible witness, continued Fein, the evidence failed to prove criminal intent. But Celona’s “horrendous performance” on the stand “makes your job easier,” Fein told the jury.

Celona’s testimony, said Fein, “is contradicted by the exhibits, by common sense and, best of all, contradicted by John Celona himself.”

Celona “likes to gild the lily — to build a lie upon a lie,” argued Fein.

For example, Fein scoffed at Celona’s testimony that he had turned down an offer from CVS’ lobbyist to meet with CVS’ chief executive Tom Ryan — testimony contradicted by the lobbyist, Joe Walsh, and also by the way that Celona fawned over Ryan on his TV show.

Fein also spent several minutes undercutting Celona’s testimony that Kramer first raised the idea of a consulting job when he encountered the senator at a political fundraiser for another senator, in the spring of 1999. Fein displayed CVS records and Kramer’s personal credit-card receipts to show that another CVS employee attended the fundraiser while Kramer was at his summer home in Cape May, N.J.

Dambruch later retorted that Celona may have confused the fundraiser with another one for himself, a few days earlier, that Kramer did attend.

Fein argued that it wasn’t unusual for CVS to pay for television interviews, such as Kramer’s appearances with Celona. Fein showed the jurors a proposal from Channel 10 (WJAR), an NBC affiliate, to air commercials and do news updates on its news broadcasts as part of a $100,000 promotional package for the 2002 CVS Classic golf tournament. Besides television commercials, Channel 10 agreed to air news updates, including a live interview of Kramer by early-morning anchor Frank Coletta, and to produce two half-hour specials hosted by sportscaster Frank Carpano.

Fein, who is from Connecticut, argued in conclusion that Kramer “can’t be held accountable for Celona’s crimes,” or for any negative feelings jurors may have toward Rhode Island’s chosen form of government –– a part-time legislature whose members can work for businesses with political interests.

“Jack Kramer holds his head up high, his mind clear, his heart without fear, because he has engaged in no crime.”

Kiley, who spoke for about an hour, pointed to one thing that Celona never said in his 25 interviews with FBI agents and prosecutors or in his four days on the witness stand last week.

“He didn’t tell you about one single conversation that he had with the defendants where they asked him to do anything with respect to legislation,” said Kiley. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is because it never happened.”

Ortiz asked Celona to sponsor just one bill, on electronic filing — a bill that passed unanimously, with no opposition from any outside interests. Ortiz also sent Celona information reflecting CVS’ opposition to legislation allowing Canadian drug imports, but doing so wasn’t illegal, argued Kiley.

“Carlos Ortiz didn’t ask John Celona for anything,” said Kiley. “Ladies and gentlemen, there is no case here.”

After Kiley finished, the prosecution was allowed the last word. In a 10-minute rebuttal, Dambruch zeroed in on Kiley’s statement that Ortiz had no involvement in public relations at CVS.

“So isn’t it interesting,” said Dambruch, “that in a relationship that was supposedly all about public relations,” Celona was supervised by Ortiz, the head of government affairs, and was paid from CVS’ political contributions account.

“Who chose to put Celona there?” asked Dambruch. “CVS. The defendants . . . Wasn’t the true benefit to CVS the legislative benefits?”

mstanton@projo.com