The Binge Cases: Denise Didn't Come Home - The Greatest Scam Ever Written | 8. The Last Letter

Episode Date: September 19, 2024

The defense attorneys for the man behind the scam argue the Duval scheme is no more deceptive than a magic show. But prosecutors make a strong case for fraud. In a last ditch effort to save himself, the mastermind submits a 17 page letter to the judge trying to explain what happened. But will his letter convince her? Unlock all episodes of The Greatest Scam Ever Written, ad-free, right now by subscribing to The Binge. Plus, get binge access to brand new stories dropping on the first of every month thats all episodes, all at once, all ad-free. Just click Subscribe on the top of the Smoke Screen show page on Apple Podcasts or visit GetTheBinge.com to get access wherever you get your podcasts. An ITN Productions & Sony Music Entertainment production. Find out more about The Binge and other podcasts from Sony Music Entertainment at sonymusic.com/podcasts and follow us @sonypodcasts. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

As a kid growing up in Chicago, there was one horror movie I was too scared to watch. It was called Candyman. It was about this supernatural killer who would attack his victims if they said his name five times into a bathroom mirror. But did you know that the movie Candyman was partly inspired by an actual murder? I was struck by both how spooky it was, but also how outrageous it was. Listen to Candyman, the true story behind the bathroom mirror murder, wherever you get your podcasts. The Eastern District Courthouse on Long Island is humming with activity

on a sweltering June day in 2023. It's a huge, austere building, pristine and blindingly white. The lobby is mercifully cool, all marble floors and wood paneling. It feels a bit like a mausoleum. Up on the 10th floor, in courtroom number 1030, a trial is about to begin. All rise, jurors entering. Twelve men and women shuffle into the courtroom and take their places in the jury box. In a few days' time, Patrice Runner will stand before these people as they decide his fate.

It's been almost five years since his initial arrest on the Spanish island of Ibiza. Now, Patrice is facing 18 charges, each with a maximum prison time of 20 years. The judge strides in and looks around the room. Good morning, everyone. Please be seated. This master of persuasion and his legal team believe they can convince the jury that he is innocent. He's a man who has written millions of words throughout his career, but the ones that will be spoken in this courtroom are now the only ones that matter.

We are ready to begin with the arguments of counsel. I'm Rachel Brown, and this is The Greatest Scam Ever Written from Sony Music Entertainment and ITN Productions. Episode 8, The Last Letter. In the run-up to Patrice's trial in June 2023, I snatch any time I can with him, on the phone or over email. It gets harder and harder to speak, with even longer and more frequent lockdowns at the prison. But whenever I do talk to him about the case, he's like a broken record, flatly denying any hint of wrongdoing. Even facing the full power of the DOJ, he remains defiant.

You are. He's going to fight his case to the end. And he believes he's going to win. As the trial date approaches, I really have no idea what to expect of the jury. In American fraud trials, the outcome is often hard to predict, even for the geekiest court watchers. Take the case of the former Theranos

CEO Elizabeth Holmes on trial for those fake blood tests. The verdict is in. The disgraced Theranos founder and CEO found guilty on four of 11 counts in her landmark Silicon Valley fraud case. The jury's decision split. Elizabeth Holmes was found guilty on four charges including conspiracy to commit fraud against investors, but acquitted on three other counts against patients. The jury deadlocked on three other charges. It's just not possible to predict which way a jury could go in these sorts of complicated fraud cases. But it feels right that a jury of American citizens makes the last decision on Patrice. He always took care to keep his victims,

or customers as he likes to say, at arm's length. Now, these 12 ordinary people will look him straight in the eye and their judgment will be final. It made me think of all those victims who won't get a chance to confront Patrice. I call Chrissy, Doreen Robinson's daughter. She was the first person I spoke to at the start of this story. How does she feel about being able to put a name to the scam after a decade of seeking answers? I'm completely gone smacked. I have never heard

of Patrice Runner. I have no clue who this man is. Is he the person that I need to be directing my anger at? She tells me she had presumed it was Maria Duvall herself at the top of the scam. Do you have anything that you would ask him? What would you wish you could say to him, I'm glad you made your money raping the money off of innocent victims. I don't know if we can say that. But how dare he try to make money off the backs of vulnerable people? I know Chrissy is thinking about her mom here, Doreen Robinson. So am I. I think he is an evil, wretched man. The impact of this trial will go far beyond Patrice. Millions of people received letters. Many of these people felt victimized.

They want justice. Will the verdict give them that? Finally, the day of the trial arrives, June 5th, 2023. A hush falls over the busy courtroom as prosecutor John Burke approaches the stand. He has a thick head of gray hair, clean-cut suit, and a somber expression. Eventually, he sets out his argument. This is from the trial transcript voiced by an actor. Patrice Runner was the boss

of a $175 million psychic mail fraud scheme. He ran the scheme for 20 years. He convinced his victims that they were in personal correspondence with Maria Duvall, that Maria Duvall cared about them, and that she would use her abilities to help them. Mr. Runner took as much money as he possibly could from the victims. Through an endless stream of more lies and more fraud, he lied to them from the very first letter he sent them to the very last letter, and every letter in between.

The prosecution is arguing not only that Patrice was aware of the scam and how it was run, but that he personally manipulated and exploited his victims. Burke spells out for the jury how these mail order scams work. The three stages we heard about when Clayton brought down Patrice's lieutenants, Mary Thanos and Phil Lett. First, find potential victims by renting lists of names. Second, lie to the victims to make them think that they're in personal correspondence with Maria Duvall. Third, bombard the victims who fall for the lie with dozens of additional fake letters,

each filled with lies and fraud. On day two of the trial, Mary and Phil take to the stand and testify against their former boss, Patrice Runner. They had already pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit mail fraud. Patrice told me about the frustration he felt watching them. He says that Mary and Phil had to make him look bad to avoid potential jail time. But interestingly, Patrice doesn't feel any sense of betrayal. They were simply saving themselves.

He probably would have done the same if the tables were turned. Betrayal or not, their testimony is extremely damaging for the defense, especially Mary's. I quickly realized that their promotions were not coming from the psychics, but I needed to work to support my family. By promotions, Mary means the letters sent to victims. I felt uncomfortable at different times when I'd be confronted with promotions, but I pushed it out of my mind. It's not something I would think about every day, And I deeply, deeply regret being part of this organization.

Day four sees several victims speak about the devastating impact of the letters on their lives. The money lost. The family relationships destroyed. Burke runs through each one. Kathy Irvin, who genuinely believes in psychics. Burke runs through each one. care of her sick husband for nine and a half years, she lost money playing the lottery with Maria Duvall's numbers. Keith Aldrich, who grew up here on Long Island. After a hit-and-run accident, Mr. Aldrich separated from his wife and was living with his parents. He even included his phone number, but she never wrote back. And of course, she never called.

Each one of these testimonies is full of desperation, all fueled, in the prosecution's mind, by Patrice's careful, persuasive copy. The prosecution wraps up. Burke's closing point is definitive. Patrice Runner lied about Maria Duvall. And he lied about the unique and valuable items supposedly coming from Maria Duvall. They were cheap, mass-produced trinkets ordered in bulk.

I'm confident that you will find Patrice Runner guilty of all 18 counts. At this point, it doesn't look good for Patrice. From where I'm sitting, the prosecution has done their job in trying to prove Patrice guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. Now, it's the defense's turn. James Darrow is a Stanford graduate and an assistant federal defender in Brooklyn. He looks a lot younger than Burke, but carries himself with confidence. Darrow opens by urging the jury to consider the Maria Duvall operation as a legitimate business like any other. None of what the prosecution just said is proof that Patrice Runner intended to defraud his customers.

What it is, is proof that he ran a business. It sold astrology, and it made false statements about the astrology. So yeah, you've seen deception. But deception is not enough. Interestingly, Darrow refers only to astrology and not to psychic services. Possibly, he's hoping that astrology sounds a little bit more tangible. For Darrow, there's a big difference between deception and fraud. Here's the difference.

Okay. We pay a magician to experience magic. And that makes sense because just like someone who pays a magician isn't defrauded out of his money by deception about magic powers, someone who pays for astrology isn't defrauded by deception about astrological powers. That is why Patrice is not guilty. This argument has been raised throughout our story by lots of people connected to the scam. From Keitha Rocco, who claims people should be free to pay for the comfort psychics or astrology can bring, to Jacques Maillan, who argued that the Maria Duval letters are no different to what churches do. The point here is that we all accept some level of deceit when we buy such things.

1.3 million people chose to buy astrology. They came in wanting those products. Overwhelmingly, they came out satisfied with those products. So, we're asking you to honor their choices, to respect their judgment that an astrological experience is what they wanted to get for their money. These are grown-ups who get to buy that astrological experience if they want it. It's not a crime to sell it to them, right? But his use of the word grown-ups here catches my attention. The victim's testimony and my reporting has shown that many of the people hit hardest by the scam

are in a vulnerable state when they fall under the spell of the letters. They end up controlled and even infantilized, like Doreen Robinson. Darrow is trying to paint a different picture of independent adults who must be allowed to make their own decisions.

To reinforce these ideas, the defense calls its sole witness David Gow, a marketing professor from the University of Illinois. Gow points to the repeat customer rate as evidence of the legitimacy of Patrice's business. Patrice merely provided a service to willing customers. No foul play, no wrongdoing.

The whole trial is circling around this question of fraud versus deceit. The defense keeps trying to focus the jury on those customers who were satisfied with the product. But they don't want to interrogate the product itself. Darrow tries to draw similarities between the Maria Duvall letters and WWE. But audiences who pay to watch WWE get to see WWE. Patrice and his employees lied blatantly and repeatedly for more than 20 years and took people's money based on those lies. After hearing two weeks of heated testimony and cross-examinations, the jury retires to deliberate.

Now, we wait for their decision. On June 16, 2023, word spreads through the corridors of the Eastern District Courthouse. The jury in the Patrice Runner case is ready to give their verdict. Everyone rushes back to take their places in the courtroom. A heavy wooden door opens and the 12 jury members file in. They sit in two rows, their expressions unreadable. Have the jury reached their decision? The jury finds Patrice guilty of eight counts of mail fraud, four counts of wire fraud, conspiracy to commit mail and wire fraud, and conspiracy to commit money laundering.

He's acquitted of four other charges. Theoretically, he faces a maximum penalty of 20 years in prison on each guilty count. Although actual sentences are normally way under the maximum. Given the sheer number of charges, I sort of always expected Patrice to be found guilty on at least one count. But 14? It's so decisive.

I think of Patrice sitting back in his cell in New York after being found guilty. What might he be thinking? Has this verdict burst his bubble of self-belief? Of course not. He writes to me straight after the trial. To my point of view, I've tried to look at it from various angles for the last four days. This verdict, at first glance, without having analyzed it deeper, makes absolutely no sense. He's shocked to have been found guilty.

But the verdict has clearly not prompted any soul-searching or reflection. He's just as determined as ever to keep fighting. Even if we failed for now, we have only partially failed and the game is far from over. And in some respects, Patrice is right. Because this isn't the end. His sentencing hearing is set for April 2024 in New York and could still provide a final twist in the tale. I know I have to be there when it happens and see Patrice in person. The night before I head down to New York, I notice that a couple of

last-minute court documents have been submitted to the judge by Patrice's legal team. There's one in particular that catches my eye. A letter from Patrice himself, an address to the judge. A final bit of copy. His swan song.

Oh my God, it's 17 pages. Single space, pretty much. It's titled, The Ten Commandments of the Phoenix. The grandiose religious framing makes me think again of how these scammers like to equate themselves to churches, providing comfort. Patrice also uses literary quotes to kick off each new paragraph. Quote, pain and suffering are inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. Truly great men must, I think, experience sorrow on the earth, end quote, crime and punishment. It seems a little cliche to be quoting Dostoevsky in a letter to a judge. We'll see in the coming days whether or not it works.

The letter is bizarre. A random hodgepodge of inspirational quotes and deluded arguments about the case. I feel like I'm now fluent in Patrice's writing. I can immediately spot his persuasive techniques. So he opens the letter with this very emotional plea, with this dramatic scene of how he and the other inmates are locked up. He says, I thought it was important to share this fact with you before I started.

The added stress I've had to deal with and the challenge it has been for me to write and finish this letter with such restricted access to computers that its last minute delivery was almost compromised. So very dramatic, almost cinematic in the way he's describing his inability to write this letter and this kind of urgency that he's putting on it too. So I think he's really trying to hook her in. He goes on, talking vividly about his troubled childhood and the impact it had on him in his teenage years, always having to hustle.

The letter then takes a strange turn when Patrice starts describing his cellmate, who he is less than fond of. This cacophonous flatulence factory obliges me to dress up as an embalmer with a hint of Bengay extra menthol on top of my mustache below my nostrils, the latter covered with a gas mask during my dear summit's daily gastric storms. It's hard not to find this amusing. His choice of adjectives is surely intended to make the reader smirk, but I'm not sure what purpose it serves. Personally, I find nothing about this letter convincing. It's overwritten and self-indulgent. Any spark of sympathy I might have felt for Patrice

is snuffed out because there is still no recognition that he's done anything wrong in this letter. He's been found guilty and should be on his knees begging for mercy. But somehow, he's still absolutely sure of himself and the potential he has to offer to the world. I know that my main life projects will improve the lives of thousands of people. Then, I hope, in a few years, to improve the lives of millions of people. This will be my contribution to making our world better. By this point, I'm wondering if Patrice has totally lost his mind. How could he possibly see his mail order scams as making the world a better place?

There's no mention of the victims of the scam. The letter is basically 17 pages of Patrice's warped perspective, how his life has been impacted, and what will become of him. I feel emotionally drained when I reach the final page. Only you have the power to release from the world of darkness and to let the phoenix, which has suffered so much and is more than ready to take flight towards its destiny, towards new horizons. May God bless you. Patrice Runeur

I can't imagine how all this lunacy is going to play out in the sentencing hearing. I pack my bag and head for New York. So I landed at LaGuardia Airport this morning and jumped in an Uber. It's an hour drive to get here, and it's probably one of the most expensive, if not the most expensive Uber ride I've ever taken. We're going to head over to the federal courthouse. It's the same grand courthouse where the trial took place. As I approach, I feel my body tense up.

It's just been so long since I started covering this case, and so long since I first started talking to Patrice, As I approach, I feel my body tense up. It's just been so long since I started covering this case and so long since I first started talking to Patrice that it really feels like everything's kind of built up to this moment in this day. Patrice's fate rests in the hands of Judge Joanna Seibert, who presided over both the trial and now the sentencing. Throughout the process, she's denied his every request, whether that was video calling his kids or getting the charges dismissed. Maybe it was because I'm so far into this, but when I first saw Judge Joanna Seibert, the person who came to mind was Maria Duvall. Both elegant women in their 70s with bright, blonde, short hair, a confident posture, and an all-knowing expression.

I wonder if Patrice sees the parallels, too. Today, Judge Seibert is presiding over a very quiet courtroom. It's just Patrice, his guards, the lawyers, a few law students, and me. This is me describing the scene to producer Millie. You know, the judge asked, is there anyone from Patrice's family here in the courtroom? They said no, they couldn't make it, they couldn't travel.

And what does he look like today when you saw him? His hair was slicked back, kind of like gel or water, slicked back into a ponytail. And then he had his beard also, quite a heavy beard, which I've seen before, graying in certain parts. The transformation I've seen in him physically over just two years alone is pretty stark. He's always been so conscious of his image,

but now he looks rake thin and run down. He sees me and waves. I expect the sentencing to be quick. Turns out, it takes about an hour and a half of back and forth between the prosecution and Patrice's lawyers, trying to argue for what type of sentence he should face. The subject of Patrice's written plea to the judge comes up, and she's ready with her assessment. My concern is, throughout that letter, there's not a whisper of remorse.

Golly gee, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done this. And he doesn't think he did anything wrong. And you know what that cries out to me? He's coming back again. Darrow, the defense lawyer, looks at his client. Patrice wants to speak. I watch him take a deep breath. What could he possibly have left to say?

The judge signals Patrice to stand. This is it. His final chance to convince her to go easy on him. Again, this is the transcript voiced up by actors. Yes, Mr. Runner, just if you would talk into the microphone so we get a clear record. The part that you mentioned was missing in my letter was because I wanted to tell it to you directly here. Throughout the trial, Patrice has been composed, confident, and convinced he has done nothing wrong. But now he crumbles, tears welling in his eyes.

I just realized to what level, to what point, how much hardship some of my customers had in their life. Some of them were desperate to improve their life. I realized, oh, I was disconnected from those people because I was too, I would say, too much involved in the data. So I just realized to which extent I really missed for those many years that human perspective. Wait, so his justification is that he dehumanized people to such an extent that he couldn't see that what he was doing was wrong? When I came back to my cell,

I was really full of remorse because I was really touched. I didn't realize that it was that some people had that hardship life that was so, so hard. This is the first time I've heard him talk about the people who received the Maria Duvall letters with any compassion.

He goes through each of the victims who had testified in the trial the previous year and shares his personal feelings now with the court. The first witness was Frida Bahri, who came to the stand, and I listened very closely to what she was saying. He name-checks each one of them in turn. Ingrid Wolfe.

Keith Aldridge. I was very moved also by his testimony, the fact that he was disabled. Lastly, he gets to Barbara Callahan. When I saw how bad in shape she was in her testimony, I really felt heartbroken. Yeah, real broken by that woman. Barbara Callahan. Wait, I recognize this name. And not just because she testified at the trial.

I also spoke to Patrice specifically about her story between the trial and the sentencing. Barbara Callahan, okay, from Wyoming, okay. She came in the end. Yeah, who couldn't come. Barbara testified via a video link because she was too ill to attend. She was very fat on a

bed in an hospital or I don't know, maybe a place for senior people. Her forearms were all purple, green, like bruises. And she could barely speak. And then, yeah, so that was pretty bad. She was like the worst of the worst you can find, you know, that they beat. The same Barbara Callahan Patrice is now sorrowfully describing to the judge

is the person he had previously dismissed and described to me as the pit. So even in his final moments pleading to the judge, he's just playing a role. A man full of remorse. A man ready for redemption. Looking Judge Seibert straight in the eye, he gets to his conclusion. Because if I were not as disconnected, if I had seen the human misery, all that human misery much closer, I would certainly have reconsidered my involvement in the psychic business.

To finish, I would like to read here a quote that was already in my letter from Dostoevsky. His novel Crime and Punishment. As he quotes from Crime and punishment yet again, I think about how disconnected Patrice is from this moment. He's broadcasting to us from an alternative universe. And Judge Seibert is not tuned into his signal. You created a situation that was of your own making, Mr. Runner. No violence necessarily, but a number of victims and millions and millions of dollars

warrant a sentence of 10 years. Without any fanfare, the judge has delivered her verdict. 10 years. Patrice visibly crumples in his seat. That's 10 years in prison. But given the number of serious charges he faced, it could have been a lot worse for him. I leave the courtroom and call producer Millie to tell her about Patrice's emotional plea. I did think there was some sincerity to it,

but at the same time, if you're facing a prison sentence, you're probably going to say whatever you want to the judge to try to get them to sympathize with you. Initially, what drew me to this story was not only the scale of the deception and fraud involved, but also the way the right words can sell an idea. Patrice was a creative and persuasive writer, but under the scrutiny of this court, something has changed in how I look at him. He kind of exposed himself as someone who relies on formulas of speech, certain phrases, certain ways of speaking that are repetitive and emotive, but like calculated as well. Do you think if he gets out, he might pursue something like this again? I think 10 years is more than enough time to convince him that this is a bad idea. This is a crime. I think Patrice is done with Maria Duvall. But when I catch up with Clayton right after the sentencing,

he's not so sure. This is all that Mr. Runner knows is how to defraud people. She will now have many years in prison to dream up another fraud scheme that he can perpetrate when he gets out. Millie has something else she wants to ask me. A simple question, but one that forces me to confront the moral gray areas of reporting on someone like Patrice. Do you feel sort of sympathetic to him? I do have a soft spot for Patrice, for better or worse. He's a convicted fraudster, sure, but he's also a human. He's a father. I've heard his hopes, his dreams for the future.

And two thoughts can be true. I can have a touch of sympathy for this person, and I can also say, okay, he needed to atone for his actions. There's one final question for us to answer. What does the sentencing mean for the millions of victims of this scam? I think that the victims and their families will have to tell us if they think that this is justice. Do they feel like Patrice being sentenced to 10 years is enough? Hello?

Oh, hi. Is this Chrissy? Yeah. Oh, hi. Is this Chrissy? Yeah. Oh, hi, Chrissy. It's Rachel Brown calling. I call Chrissy Robinson again to tell her the news. Patrice Runner, the man who was convicted of running the Marie Duvall scam, he just got sentenced to 10 years in prison just now. Oh, my goodness.

10 years isn't a very long time, is it? Considering these victims were psychologically scammed into believing that they were getting something. And even though so many of these victims have passed away, there's no justice for them in the end. It just leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Yeah, it's kind of bittersweet.

It feels like no amount of years would have been enough for Chrissy. Enough for Doreen's memory. And a big part of me agrees. But a decade behind bars is no small sentence for a man used to the good life. It's a devastating fall from grace. From the beaches of Ibiza to the four walls of a cell. No one from Patrice's family attended the sentencing. I wonder whether they'll find the time to visit. On the day,

I was the only one present in the courtroom who knew him. In the weeks that follow, I try again and again to speak to Patrice. I want to know whether the sentence has finally forced him to accept the impact of his crimes. I want him to respond to Chrissy Robinson's anger, but I'm told he's in transit, being moved to a new prison. Unreachable. Even if I could speak to him, I'd make any bet you like that he hasn't changed his views, that he still thinks he's done nothing wrong. But for the first time in his life, no amount of spin or grift can change the narrative. Patrice Runner is one of the most ruthless and successful scammers in history. Belief was his currency. He preyed on millions of people's desire for more from life,

for bigger, better things, or just a different ending for themselves and their loved ones. And he deeply understood the desires he was manipulating. They had driven him since he was a child, desperate to climb out of poverty. But he made his choices, and now he's facing a long stretch of time to sit and reckon with them. By the time he gets out, he'll be in his late 60s, worn down by his time inside, without a penny to his name. And who knows? He might be a prime candidate for a suckers list himself. The final episode of The Greatest Scam Ever Written was hosted by me, Rachel Brown.

Our assistant sound designer is Sam Cassetta. Our sound designer is Luca Evans. Our mixer is Jay Rothman. Our assistant producers are Luca Evans and Leo Schick. Our producer is Millie Chu. Our story editor is Dave Anderson. Voices by Bruce Kennedy, Catherine Bovee, Max Laramie, Robert Pierce, and Vera Huff. For ITN Productions, our production manager is Emily Jarvis.

Our executive producer is Ravina Pabani. For Sony Music Entertainment, our executive producer is Catherine St. Louis. Thanks to Bill Walker and Lucien Lauzon of MCS Studios. And a special thanks to The Walrus, whose article of the same name inspired this podcast.