Jon Tevlin: Hecker's new contrition wears thin

Denny Hecker's Act of Contrition on the eve of his contempt of court hearing seemed to portray a man embracing his sins, a saddened father trying to make ends meet for his kids and satisfy the promises his once grandiose lifestyle gave to his ex-wives.

Hecker's mea culpa affidavit prior to his appearance Tuesday expressed regrets for the abject disregard he often showed toward the court and his failure to pay spousal and child support while continuing to divert money to his girlfriend. He even begrudgingly admitted he acted without "any moral compass or common sense" when he took $75,000 from his children's trust accounts.

He was, he insinuated, a changed man.

It's apparently a lot easier to draft an apology with the help of a lawyer than it is to show genuine remorse in person.

Hecker, dressed in a gray blazer, white shirt and black tie, sounded like car salesman Jerry Lundegaard from the movie "Fargo" ("I'll fax it over. OK. Real good, then"') as he evaded questions about where he got tens of thousands of dollars, and where it went.

The courts have repeatedly ordered Hecker to provide a detailed spending account, yet Hecker's last submission was one filled with holes, missing checks and mysterious loans.

"This document is the start of the completion of the document the court has requested," Hecker began.

Asked about why an old employee lent him $34,000, Hecker adjusted the funky, square glasses normally worn by people in their 20s: "Different details of what the purpose was, we'd need time to reconstruct."

Was that money actually taken from his children's trust accounts?

That needed more investigation. "It's like a poker hand," Hecker said obscurely. "It reads itself."

And many payments of $75,000 to his girlfriend over the past few months?

"The details, we'd be more than glad to provide."

It's not easy, Hecker explained, to keep track of things when one once had 140 bank accounts. When one had yachts and homes and expensive cars. When one had people.

Near the end of his testimony, as the veneer of penitence wore thin, Hecker became increasingly irritated. After failing to explain a payment of $2,600 to Segway, he reverted to the car salesman he's always been. "I have one in the garage if you'd like to buy it," he snapped. "We could probably get that done."

Judge Jay Quam listened quietly as Hecker tried to explain away trips to Hawaii and Aspen taken after legal proceedings began, and Hecker was effectively spending money that was not his. It was for his kids, he said. "We had a lot of people looking up our skirts," he griped.

Quam had the patience of Job as he finally turned to Hecker, and acknowledged he'd had a bad year. "Your credibility has not had a good year, either," he said, before ordering the former multimillionaire to jail.

"Dennis, stand up and face me," said a Hennepin County sheriff's deputy. "Are you going to cooperate with us?"

The handcuffs were secured to Hecker's wrists, just below a large silver watch and one of those rubber bands that support good causes or offer motivational slogans such as "Live Strong."

Outside the court, Michael Ormand, attorney for Hecker's second wife, Sandra, was pleased. He's represented Sandra since 1983, he said, when Hecker essentially claimed to be broke during divorce proceedings.

"He moved into a $330,000 house and she and the kids were evicted by the sheriff," said Ormand.

"It's the same Denny."