Monon Corporation once was among the largest manufacturers of over-the-road semi-trailers, containers, and container chassis, producing about 150 units a day. Early in 1996, however, Monon’s principal customer cut back on orders and the lost business could not be replaced. Production fell to about 100 units a day in January 1996, dropping to 60 in April and 50 in August. This decline in sales produced a liquidity crisis, as the firm’s fixed obligations and payroll could not be cut as fast as the order book shriveled. Thomas Ros-by, Monon’s CEO and holder of 72% of its equity, and John Franklin, its CFO and holder of 14%, watched the finances closely-
Much of Monon’s working capital came from Congress Financial Corporation, a factor that advanced credit on the security of Monon’s inventory and receivables. Monon could draw on the credit as soon as it started production of each new unit. During 1996 Monon began a bill-ahead fraud. It would, for example, report starting 60 units on a day when only 50 actually entered production. As sales continued to decrease, however, Monon had to report more and more early starts, so that it could retire older advances. Congress was left unsecured for the difference between actual and reported production. The unsecured draw against the revolving credit increased from about $2 million in March 1996 to $5.9 million in August, when Congress discovered the fraud. After Monon filed for bankruptcy on September 1996, Congress completed many of the falsely reported units at its own expense and risk. Its net loss was about $1.8 million.
Monon also borrowed from A.I. Credit Corporation and Anthem Premium Finance. These firms made loans that Mo-non was supposed to use to prepay insurance policies; Monon agreed to retire the loans with monthly payments roughly equal to the cost of insurance for that month, and the balance was secured by the policies’ cash value. (For simplicity we refer to all of this as “insurance” even though some workers’ compensation coverage was arranged through other devices.) If, for example, Monon secured workers’ compensation coverage for $5 million a year, the premium finance company would advance that money; the unearned portion of the premium (that is, the premium attributable to future months) would be returned if Monon should cancel the policy and thus could be used as security for the loans. During 1996 Monon reported making larger prepayments than it actually had done. This left A.I. Credit and Anthem unsecured for the difference, and after Monon’s bankruptcy Anthem was *673 saddled with net losses of about $4.9 million and A.I. Credit about $2 million.
A grand jury charged Rosby and Franklin with mail and wire fraud for making (or causing to be made) the misrepresentations that persuaded the lenders to advance funds without the promised security. Michael Peterson, Monon’s insurance broker, was indicted at the same time and pleaded guilty; he testified for the prosecution. Following the jury’s guilty verdict, both Rosby and Franklin were sentenced to 87 months in prison plus restitution of about $8.7 million (the sum of the three lenders’ net losses).
Defendants’ principal arguments in this court collapse to a single contention: that the false representations were not material because, by making prudent inquiries, the lenders could have figured out what Mo-non was doing. (To the extent defendants maintain that they did not know what the lenders were being told, the jury’s contrary conclusion is unimpeachable.) They do not contend that the jury was bound to find that the lenders actually understood the truth, and they did not ask for an instruction presenting the knowledge question to the jury, but they do say that even taken in the light most favorable to the prosecution the evidence compels a conclusion that cautious lenders ought to have done more, or better, checking, and that these inquiries would have turned up the truth.
This line of argument starts with
Neder v. United States,
Defendants recognize that under other federal statutes a representation may be material even though the hearer strongly suspects that it is false. A witness commits the crime of perjury, for example, if he lies under oath about a subject important to the proceeding, even though the grand jury believes that it knows the truth.
United States v. Kross,
This confuses materiality with reliance. At common law,
both
materiality (in the sense of tendency to influence) and reliance (in the sense of actual influence) are essential in private civil suits for damages. That’s why, if the issuer of securities furnishes an investor with the truth in writing, the investor cannot claim to have been defrauded by an oral misrepresentation: whether the writing actually conveys the truth or just calls the oral statement into question, the investor is on notice. See, e.g.,
Acme Propane, Inc. v. Tenexco, Inc.,
Reliance is not, however, an ordinary element of federal criminal statutes dealing with fraud.
Neder
so holds for § 1341 in particular. “[T]he Government is correct that the fraud statutes did not incorporate
all
the elements of common-law fraud. The common-law requirements of ‘justifiable reliance’ and ‘damages,’ for example, plainly have no place in the federal fraud statutes.”
Defendants do not argue that by extending credit, despite Monon’s noncompliance with some of the contracts’ written terms, the lenders agreed to modify their arrangements and forego the promised security. Maybe such an argument has been withheld because those employees of the lenders who suspected (or should have suspected) what was afoot lacked authority to change the deal. Episodes modeled on Potemkin villages suggest as much: whenever lenders’ senior personnel or auditors called to check on their collateral, Monon scurried to convey the appearance (though not the reality) of extra production starts or insurance with cash value. That Monon continued making misrepresentations demonstrates its belief that truth would have altered its creditors’ behavior. Low-level employees’ interests may not have been aligned with those of the lenders’ investors; employees paid by the hour, or by the amount of credit under their purview, may be inclined to avert their gaze lest *675 they learn of problems, for the costs fall elsewhere. At all events, defendants do not argue that any employee of the lenders with actual authority to approve a change in the contracts’ terms by reducing the amount of collateral ever had actual knowledge of what Monon was doing. (Cindy Carroll, a branch manager who knew that A.I. Credit had advanced too much against Monon’s 1995 insurance premiums — the principal event that defendants say should have alerted lenders not to trust what Monon was saying in 1996 — never told John Rago, A.I. Credit’s vice president of credit and the only person authorized to make lending decisions on its behalf.)
As for defendants’ argument that the prosecutor violated the due process clause by withholding exculpatory evidence, see
Brady v. Maryland,
A district court’s action on a Rule 33 motion for a new trial filed
after
sentencing is a new final decision that requires a new notice of appeal. See, e.g.,
United States v. Hocking,
Brady offers the defendants no assistance, however. They complain that the prosecutor withheld two tidbits that did not come out until shortly before sentencing: first, Anthem Insurance Company had insured the loans that Anthem Premium Finance, its subsidiary, had made to Monon; second, in July 1996 the parent corporation sold its stock in the premium-finance subsidiary to Newcourt Credit Group USA, Inc. How either of these facts could assist the defendants eludes us. That the victim was insured does not make the loss any less; who ultimately bears a loss does not matter in a fraud prosecution. A bank executive *676 who embezzled from his employer could not defend by noting that the bank had been reimbursed by an insurer; no more does reimbursement matter here.
Defendants tell us that the impending sale gave Anthem (the parent) a reason to want its subsidiary to build up its book of business, to make the subsidiary more attractive, and that the subsidiary therefore ignored the risks of nonpayment. But the insurance issued by the parent corporation makes hash of this contention; why would a parent want a subsidiary to throw away money that the parent would have to repay in order to make the subsidiary (and thus Newcourt) whole? Anyway, the possibility that Anthem may have been trying to bamboozle Newcourt does not provide a defense for fraud committed against Anthem. Nor does this explain why Congress and A.I. Credit were taken in. Anthem behaved no differently from the other victims. To return to our theme: Defendants do not contend that the record demonstrates Anthem’s actual knowledge that Monon’s representations were false; arguments pro and con about how attentive the lenders’ staff may have been to the possibility that Monon was lying are not relevant, because reliance is not an element of the mail-fraud offense.
Defendants’ remaining arguments about the convictions do not require discussion, so we arrive at sentencing. The loss calculation was correct — in particular, the district judge rightly concluded that the loss Congress suffered was $5.9 million (the unsecured advances outstanding when the fraud came to light) rather than $1.8 million (Congress’s net loss after it took over Monon’s production in bankruptcy in order to minimize its injury). As a result the total loss exceeded $10 million and defendants received the increase provided by U.S.S.G. § 2F1.1(b)(1)(P) (1995). (By the parties’ agreement the district court used the 1995 Guidelines. Whether this was appropriate is a question that the parties have not addressed. See
United States v. Roche,
After calculating a sentencing range according to the Guidelines, the district judge stated: “Even though departure is authorized in this case, in the exercise of its discretion, the Court will not depart, because, I believe, departure is not warranted under the facts and circumstances of this case.” Although sentence was imposed after
United States v. Booker,
Yet there is no doubt that the district judge knew about
Booker
(which had been decided more than three months before sentencing) and its significance. The judge discussed not only the Guidelines but also the sentencing criteria in 18 U.S.C. § 3553(a). Since 1987 judges have been explaining their sentences in terms of
*677
departures (or decisions not to depart) from the Guidelines. Habits take time to shake off; it is inevitable that some of the old terminology will linger for a few years. Unless there is reason to think that the choice of words made a substantive difference, there is no error at all, let alone a “plain” error — which entails a serious risk that an injustice has been done. See
United States v. Olano,
Restitution is the final issue. The judge ordered defendants to reimburse the lenders for their net losses. Here, at last, reliance could be important — for restitution is fundamentally a civil remedy administered for convenience in the criminal case, see
United States v. George,
Lenders and other investors need not look behind representations made to them. See, e.g.,
Teamsters Local 282 Pension Trust Fund v. Angelos,
A reliance requirement prevents recovery when the truth is known or the risk of an investment (or loan) is apparent; a risky investment that goes bad differs from fraud. See
Mayer,
Affirmed.
