by FERN SHEN

     The big undercurrents in the trial of Mayor Sheila Dixon — the themes that always seem to be lurking behind politics in Baltimore and the country these days — were on display in Thursday’s closing arguments. At first glance, deconstructing the two different (and by-now familiar) presentations of the facts might seem like a mere matter of contrasting two very different oratorical styles.

     The methodical-but-conversational closing by prosecutor Shelly S. Glenn earned her a quick high-five from a colleague and a few quiet congratulations from audience members. Glenn made a surprisingly coherent and strong case — that was the quick take from University of Maryland law professor Douglas Colbert, and other steely-eyed trial watchers (folks who had spent much of the week shaking their heads over the prosecution’s performance.)

     When defense attorney Arnold Weiner took his turn, though, it seemed as if someone had cranked the volume dial up about five ticks and sent a jolt of electricity into the audience. Judging by the hoots and chuckles — which presiding judge Dennis M. Sweeney did nothing to halt — Weiner was going over big with the crowd.When he concluded, there was loud applause, which again Sweeney allowed for some time before bringing down the gavel.

     Still, the closings were more than a study in hot and cold courtroom demeanors. The two combatants were also pressing buttons, trying to channel some powerful themes: for Weiner, it was race and gender, for Glenn, it was class and privilege.

     “She’s a woman of faith and she’s a woman of dedication. It’s no accident that she became the first African-American president of the City Council and the first African-American woman to be mayor of the city,” Weiner said, right at the start. (Dixon, for those who haven’t followed this case, is charged with taking gift cards intended for the underprivileged (from Best Buy, Toys ‘R Us, Target) and using them to buy a video camera and other personal items.

     Weiner told jurors he was “proud” to represent Sheila Dixon, adding sarcastically, “I’m not here on behalf of ‘that woman.’ ” He was invoking Bill Clinton’s imperious put-down of Monica Lewinsky. Never mind that the prosecutors in the Dixon case never actually referred to Dixon as ‘that woman.’ It sounded pretty good. Weiner was not only playing up race, but working hard to portray Dixon as a hounded, harassed woman.

     “She has had to endure at least since 2003 one of the most severely intrusive investigations that a human being has had to go through,” he said. He reminded jurors of the testimony of the investigator who participated in the June 2008 search of Dixon’s home, “with a barely concealed smile” on his face “rummaging through every room, every pocketbook, every drawer in her bedroom.”

That investigator, who was white, was not well-received by some jurors, judging by their body language. Weiner was wise to remind them about it.)

     Snickers over a pink bag

     Then there was the hot pink Victoria’s Secret bag. Weiner called jurors’ attention to it on the prosecutors’ table with a salaciously raised eyebrow, prompting audience snickers. (Weiner has a way of peppering the prosecution’s case with sarcasm and doubt-bombs and these eventually take their toll.)

     The bag was there to remind jurors of a similar one from the famous lingerie-chain that investigatoirs found when they raided Dixon’s home. Among other items, it contained five Toys R Us gift cards — cards Dixon had been handed at a Dec 20, 2007 Hollly Trolley event, to be handed out to needy children. They were stilll in Dixon’s home, unused, six months later. Glenn had carefully turned the bag so its logo was facing the jury.

     “You’ve got to wonder what is going on here in this case, what are we trying,” Weiner huffed Thursday, pointing to the bag. “The lack of respect . . .the recklessness with which they have brought a worthless case.” (Rohrbaugh later seemed peeved that Weiner had blamed them for the  bag: “we didn’t put these cards in a Victoria’s Secret bag, the defendant did!”) 

            Weiner even allowed that what Dixon did might have been wrong — “Maybe it’s a mistake, maybe on reflection you wouldn’t do it” — but it was minor, he argued.

        Them that’s got, get more?

       Rohrbaugh and Glenn, meanwhile, worked hard to portray Dixon as a privileged high official seeking special treatment and a free pass for deeds that would bring swift punishment for a regular citizen. They did it in little ways, almost as asides, at times. Glenn, for instance, noted at one point that some gift cards at Dixon’s house were found, not mingled with work items, but in bags from the high-end department store Nordstrom.

      ”These are personal bags of hers,” Glenn said. “She shops at Nordstrom. That’s fine, I’m not making a comment about that.” Of course you’re not! 

     There was the same spin put on Mary Pat Fannon, the mayor’s office lobbyist with the family income exceeding a half a million dollars who received a Toys ‘R Us gift card from Dixon that had originated at the Holly Trolley. Glenn referred to her at times as “a millionaire” and “a sharp dresser.”

     Then there was mid-level city Housing department official Lindbergh Carpenter, Exhibit A in the prosecution’s strategy to rile up the jury by portraying Dixon as a high-official seeking special treatment.

     Carpenter testified that he spent Holly Trolley gift cards for personal items (as Dixon did) and plead “guilty” to theft and lost his job. Why should Dixon, Rohrbaugh asked, not be punished the same way?

     “Whether you’re the lowest employee in Baltimore City government or you’re the mayor,” he said, “people ought to be treated equally.”

     Toward the end, Rohrbaugh dramatically plunked down 20 plastic cards on the railing in front of the jurors– to show them what the amount allegedly stolen by Dixon looks like.

     When it comes to certain people’s offenses “somehow they’re small, they’re insignificant,” he said. “Was it insignificant for the child who did not receive the $25 card . . . the child who did not have a nice Christmas or have a little joy in their life?”

     So: two closings, two approaches, two sets of assumptions and calculations, aimed at swaying 12 jurors: seven black, three white, one Asian, one hard-to-classify. There are nine women on the jury and three men. We’ll soon hear from them.