We met in a well-windowed conference room at the Minneapolis office of Dorsey& Whitney – the law firm I’d worked at 20 years prior as a young lawyer. Back then, I gave legal advice. Now, I needed legal advice. Joining Blum and me were Tom Vitt, Dorsey’s genial courtroom giant who handled all our litigation matters, and a colleague he said was “the guy” to manage a federal criminal investigation.
“The guy” was Bill Michael, the co-head of Dorsey’s white-collar crime practice, who arrived at the meeting looking like a less-rugged Harrison Ford. His heavily-starched dress shirt and steely eyes hinted at his military past, and as Bill Michael spoke, it was hard not to be impressed by the Green Beret turned federal prosecutor. With 100 jury trials to his name, Bill Michael was just the guide I needed in this unfamiliar land.
But right now, he didn’t know anything – about my company, about varicose veins, or about me. Luckily for him, I’d spent my Fourth of July weekend prepping a 90-slide briefing instead of floating on my boat around the lake. But before I fired up the PowerPoint, I gave a few opening remarks.
“I already know this is a serious matter, for both the company and me. We all know that last year another medical device company went through a criminal investigation and even had its CEO indicted. Nobody wants that here – especially me.”
The joke landed flat. This Bill Michael guy was all business. Good – I liked