Disgraced judge falls, lands softly

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Accountability doesn't come easy. But following his reprehensible courtroom antics, an Ontario superior court judge has rightfully fallen from grace. However, he didn't call "uncle" until he had engaged in the kind of legal shenanigans that play out all too frequently in criminal courts across the country.

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Opinion

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 19/04/2009 (6218 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Accountability doesn’t come easy. But following his reprehensible courtroom antics, an Ontario superior court judge has rightfully fallen from grace. However, he didn’t call "uncle" until he had engaged in the kind of legal shenanigans that play out all too frequently in criminal courts across the country.

Former justice Paul Cosgrove was not accused of any crime, but in scrutiny’s glare, confidence in Canada’s justice system was on trial.

The story began 14 years ago and wrapped just a few weeks ago. That’s significant, given that some prominent Ontario judges have led a charge to halt the silly delays, baseless Charter challenges and other manoeuvres that are choking an overburdened legal system and slowing it to a glacial pace.

In 1995, Lawrence Foster, 64, was killed by 40-something Julia Elliott, a woman Foster had met while visiting Barbados. She moved to Canada to be with Foster but the relationship was stormy and ended when Elliott murdered him. She dismembered Foster and threw his arms, legs, feet and head into the Ottawa River near Kemptville. Police later recovered the pieces and arrested Elliott.

Cosgrove began hearing the case in 1997 and to say that he took exception to the Crown and police position at trial would be an understatement of gross proportion.

With three-ring-circus fanfare he relentlessly belittled and harassed the prosecution. He unjustly threatened people with arrest (including the victim’s son). He abused contempt power and was prone to using rude and intemperate language.

At the end of the two-year-trial, Cosgrove listed a jaw-dropping 150 violations by police and Crown officials, sullying the solid reputations of those who had pursued and prosecuted the killer. He tossed the case and sent Elliott on her way. She promptly skipped the country.

In 2003, the case went to the Ontario Court of Appeal. It had harsh words for Cosgrove’s recklessness, ruling that the judge had "misused his power" and that "there was no factual basis" for any of the more than 12 dozen alleged breaches. None of them.

The success of the appeal sent police on an international manhunt that located Elliott hiding in Central America.

Cosgrove’s behaviour had far surpassed the generous latitude normally reserved for Canadian judges. It was inexcusable and Ontario’s attorney general launched an action to have him fired. That was the dawn of a multi-year legal odyssey that saw Cosgrove claw and scrape to hang onto his quarter-million- dollar job.

He found blind support from the 1,100 federal court judges’ association and the Ontario Criminal Lawyers’ Association. Cosgrove and his legal team argued that the action against him was a threat to freedom of expression and the ever-sacrosanct judicial independence that would send a disturbing chill through the country’s sitting judges.

He fought from beginning to end, argued jurisdiction and drained the public trough through the appeal process and up to the Supreme Court of Canada. He took whatever action he could to derail the proceedings.

There was no inkling of contrition until the autumn of 2008. By then, it had become crystal clear that the jig was up and that the only possible way he could avoid a boot from the bench was with some sort of apology. So he apologized.

The Canadian Judicial Council (CJC), an oversight body made up of 22 judges, including Manitoba’s Richard Scott, Marc Monin and Glenn Joyal, saw the apology for what it was: a day late, a dollar short and a seemingly feeble attempt to cling to office.

Cosgrove claimed he wanted to keep his job so he could retire on his schedule with dignity, something he stole, in death, from Lawrence Foster, whose body parts had to be stored in a morgue fridge for 10 years until Elliott was finally returned to Canada. By then, time had taken its toll on the case and she negotiated a plea to manslaughter, a crime considered to lack specific intent.

The CJC recommended that Parliament fire Cosgrove. But he resigned before that could happen, just a few months short of his planned retirement.

In the five years since the Ontario government launched the action, Cosgrove collected the better part of $1 million in salary despite his duties being significantly restricted when not fully suspended.

In retirement, he will continue to be flush with cash, collecting a pension worth more than $170,000 annually. That should soften his hard fall considerably.

But how does it square with the base issues of accountability and confidence in the justice system?

Robert Marshall is a security adviser and former Winnipeg police officer.

rm112800@hotmail.com

 

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