CINCINNATI — The first witness called by the defense in the federal embezzlement trial of Dustin Hellinger, 41, opened his testimony Tuesday morning by leaning into the courtroom microphone, exhaling slowly, and telling the jury, “Okay so first of all, he wasn’t even the worst one of us,” a statement that defense counsel later characterized as “not what we had rehearsed.”
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The witness, identified as Coltrane “Cole” Wessmann, 42, a longtime friend of the defendant since high school, had been called to provide testimony to Hellinger’s character, integrity, and standing in the community. He had been prepared by defense counsel over the course of three separate two-hour sessions, including a final walkthrough Monday evening during which, sources confirmed, Wessmann was specifically instructed not to “bring up other people,” not to “go off-script,” and not to “say the phrase first of all under any circumstance.”
Wessmann took the stand at 10:14 a.m.
He said the phrase at 10:14 a.m.
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“Okay so first of all,” Wessmann began, after taking the oath, “he wasn’t even the worst one of us. I want to put that out there. I want the jury to know that. There were, like, six of us. Dustin was — I’d say middle of the pack. Honestly, more on the cleaner side of middle. If you knew Greg, you would not be here right now.”
Defense counsel Patricia Mwangi, who was at that moment seated at the defense table reviewing her notes for the morning’s testimony, was observed by courtroom sketch artists to “stop reviewing her notes” and “place both palms flat on the table.”
Wessmann, undeterred, continued.
“I just feel like, before we get into all of, you know, this,” he said, gesturing broadly at the courtroom, the prosecution, the federal seal, the American flag, the federal judge, “I think it’s important for the jury to have context. Because Dustin’s a good guy. Dustin’s a good guy. Dustin was, I would say, the third or fourth most law-abiding member of our friend group, and that’s accounting for the fact that two of those guys are now dead and one of them is currently in Wyoming, which I’m not going to get into.”
Judge Marlena Royce, presiding over the trial, leaned forward slightly.
“Mr. Wessmann,” she said. “Are you going to answer the question?”
“What was the question,” Wessmann said.
“The question was whether you have known the defendant for a long time,” Judge Royce said.
“Oh,” Wessmann said. “Yes. Twenty-eight years. We met in tenth grade. He sat behind me in geometry. I had a substitute teacher one day who I’m pretty sure wasn’t actually a teacher and Dustin was the one who figured it out, which I think speaks to his character. He’s observant. He’s aware. He’s, like, engaged. That’s the kind of guy he is.”
“Thank you, Mr. Wessmann,” Judge Royce said.
“I just don’t want the jury to think he’s, like, the mastermind,” Wessmann added. “Because he’s not. He couldn’t mastermind a sandwich. I love him. He’s my best friend. But the idea that Dustin orchestrated, like, an embezzlement scheme? That’s, like, funny to me. That’s, like, comedy. If you knew Dustin you’d be laughing right now. He once forgot how to drive.”
Mwangi, who had by this point risen approximately halfway from her seat, requested a brief recess.
The recess was granted.
What followed, according to two sources present in the courthouse hallway during the next eleven minutes, was a “sustained whisper-conversation” between Mwangi and Wessmann, conducted near a water fountain, during which Mwangi reportedly used the phrase “what are you doing” four times and the phrase “Cole, please” three times.
Wessmann, sources confirmed, listened attentively and nodded throughout.
He returned to the stand at 10:38 a.m.
“Okay,” Wessmann began. “First of all, I want to apologize to the court.”
“Mr. Wessmann,” Judge Royce said.
“I think I came in a little hot,” Wessmann said. “I think I was, like, defending him in a way that maybe wasn’t, like, helpful. I just want everyone to know I think he’s a great guy. He’s been my best friend since geometry. He’s the godfather of my son. He coached my son’s little league team for two years and they almost made the playoffs. He volunteers. He goes to church. He’s a good guy. I just want that on the record.”
Mwangi closed her eyes briefly and exhaled.
“Also,” Wessmann added, “I want to clarify something I said earlier. About Greg. I don’t want to leave the jury with, like, a wrong impression of Greg. Greg is also a great guy. Greg has gone through some stuff. Greg has been working on himself. The thing with the boat was a long time ago. Greg has changed. I don’t want anyone walking out of here thinking Greg is the worst person they ever heard of. He’s not. He’s, like, top fifteen percent.”
“Mr. Wessmann,” Judge Royce said.
“I’m just saying,” Wessmann said.
“Mr. Wessmann, I am instructing you to limit your testimony to the defendant,” Judge Royce said.
“Right,” Wessmann said. “Right. Sorry. Got it. Dustin only. Dustin is great. I just feel like in order to understand Dustin, you have to understand the context in which Dustin operates, which includes Greg, and also includes a guy named Mike Ostrowski, who is no longer with us in any official capacity, and I think —”
“Mr. Wessmann.”
“Yes.”
“Stop.”
Wessmann stopped.
The prosecution, sources confirmed, had at this point ceased taking notes and was simply sitting still. Lead prosecutor Adrian Voss was observed making sustained eye contact with the ceiling. His co-counsel, a younger associate, was visibly trying not to laugh.
Mwangi, moving with what one observer described as “the careful precision of someone defusing a homemade device,” redirected.
“Mr. Wessmann,” she said, “in your years of friendship with my client, did you ever know him to be involved in any conduct that you would characterize as dishonest?”
Wessmann thought about this for a long moment.
“Define dishonest,” he said.
The courtroom went, for the first time since 10:14 a.m., genuinely silent.
“Mr. Wessmann,” Mwangi said carefully, “have you ever known the defendant, in his personal or professional life, to engage in any conduct involving the misrepresentation of facts or the misappropriation of funds?”
Wessmann thought about this for an even longer moment.
“I’d rather not speculate,” he said.
A 2019 study published in the American Journal of Trial Advocacy found that approximately 23% of character witnesses called by the defense in federal criminal proceedings produce testimony that is, on net, “harmful or actively damaging to the defendant’s case,” with the majority of such damage occurring in the first sixty seconds of direct examination. The study’s authors concluded that the most reliable predictor of a damaging character witness was “the witness’s preexisting confidence that he, personally, is a natural communicator and a people person.”
Wessmann, when asked during a recess whether he believed he was a natural communicator, smiled broadly.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “I always have been. I read the room. I just — I get people. I always have.”
Defense counsel Mwangi, asked at the end of Tuesday’s session whether she would be calling Wessmann back to the stand for any further testimony, paused for a long time before answering.
“We are reviewing our witness list,” she said carefully. “We are taking a fresh look. We are open to all options. We are evaluating.”
She was asked whether the words fresh look meant Wessmann would not be returning.
“Cole did his best,” Mwangi said. “Cole was, in his own way, trying to help. Cole has been Dustin’s best friend for twenty-eight years. Cole has known Dustin longer than I have known my own husband. Cole’s testimony reflected the depth of his affection for my client.”
She was asked again whether Wessmann would be returning.
“Cole will not be returning to the stand,” she said.
The defendant, Hellinger, was observed throughout Tuesday’s testimony to maintain a fixed expression that one courtroom observer described as “the expression of a man being slowly buried by a friend who genuinely loves him.”
At one point, during Wessmann’s direct mention of “the thing with Greg and the boat,” Hellinger reportedly leaned forward and whispered something to his attorney. The attorney whispered something back. Hellinger nodded slowly. He then placed his face in his hands for what court reporters timed at “approximately fourteen seconds.”
When he looked up, he was smiling.
Reporters were unable to determine the source of the smile. One theory, advanced by a court watcher who has attended every day of the trial, is that Hellinger had at that moment realized that his oldest friend in the world had just walked into a federal courtroom and, in front of a jury, opened his testimony with a sentence that, while disastrous in every legal sense, was also “the most Cole thing Cole had ever done,” and that this realization had produced in Hellinger a feeling that no defense attorney, no judge, no prosecutor, no jury, and no possible verdict could ever take away from him.
The trial continues Thursday.
Greg, sources confirm, has been instructed by his own lawyer not to attend.
At press time, Wessmann was outside the courthouse speaking to a local news crew, telling them that he felt his testimony had “gone really well, all things considered,” and that he believed his old friend Dustin had “a really strong shot here.”
He was asked, by the reporter, whether he had any final thoughts.
“First of all,” Wessmann said.
The reporter ended the interview.