Living Large in the Big House

In the public eye, each stage of the white-collar criminal's path from boardroom to big house is attended by drama. There's the shock of being caught, the gravity of indictment, the finality of a conviction, and the satisfaction of sentencing. But the final step of the process often earns far less attention: designation, the process by which the Federal Bureau of Prisons determines where the freshly convicted serve their time.

It's a matter of fine detail and major impact, enough to support a cottage industry of prison consultants, who advise their newly convicted clients on how to prepare mentally for incarceration and attempt to place them in better facilities. Perhaps the industry's newest client: Bernie Madoff, 71, who was sentenced to 150 years in prison for running a $65 billion Ponzi scheme. The interest in where he may end up hasn't been as intense since Martha Stewart's designation. She landed in "Camp Cupcake," a.k.a. Alderson Federal Prison Camp, in West Virginia.

Madoff's lawyer, Ira Sorkin, hasn't confirmed publicly whether his client has secured the services of a prison consultant. But if he does, chances are he would hire someone like John Webster, the managing director of National Prison and Sentencing Consultants. Webster coaches clients on what to expect behind bars—everything from possible assault to diet to conjugal visits (the latter aren't allowed in federal prison). A standard "prison prep" course runs $3,500, Webster says; 60 percent of them are conducted over the phone. "Some more notable clients—guys with big egos and large checkbooks—insist on flying me out and spending a couple days with them," he says. "They want the in-person, hold-my-hand kind of prep." (UPDATE published at 5:10 p.m. ET: Sorkin later told NEWSWEEK that he's hired Herb Hoelter, CEO of the National Center on Institutions and Alternatives, as a sentencing consultant.)

Alan Ellis, an attorney specializing in postsentencing issues and the author of the Federal Post Conviction Guidebook, says fees between $2,500 and $10,000 are common. It's a niche industry. "Inmates have a joke," Ellis says. "Ninety-nine percent of lawyers don't understand this stuff, and the 1 percent who do, are doing time themselves. Most criminal-defense lawyers hate, hate, dealing with that bureaucracy."

When Ellis began working on such cases, he had worries: "Geez, am I just a travel agent for federal inmates?" he says. "Then I realized, for most of these people, how much time I'm gonna do and where I'm gonna do it, is suddenly of paramount importance."

Webster's expertise comes from experience. A lawyer for 19 years, he "caught a 13-month bit" in 1999 for misrepresenting a client to the FBI, eventually serving time at Ray Brook, N.Y.; Otisville, N.Y.; and Devens, Mass. He began consulting after his release, planning to return to law as soon as he could recover his license. He quickly discovered, however, that his new gig was more enjoyable, and paid more to boot.

The No. 1 goal for consultants like Webster is to get their clients into the best prisons. The Federal Bureau of Prisons separates its facilities into four categories: minimum, low, medium, and high, with corresponding measures of mobile patrols, gun towers, perimeter barriers, detection devices, and inmate-to-staff ratio. (A fifth level, administrative, is often used as a stopgap while a prisoner is awaiting trial, or for those with special medical or mental-health issues.) Of course, the higher the security stratum, the more violent and dangerous the place. This element supersedes all others; the worst low-security prison is better than the best medium-security prison, consultants say.