After his client fled to Greece, lawyer Norm Pattis offered a stark outlook on the prospect of recovering restitution from Kosta Diamantis, the former state budget official convicted on corruption charges.
"Good luck fishing in a dry well," Pattis said, speaking to reporters outside the federal court in Bridgeport, where Diamantis was sentenced in absentia to seven years in prison.
Records show Diamantis, a former lawmaker who later oversaw school construction grants for the state, left behind a string of personal debts when he slipped out of the country. Evidence presented by prosecutors during his trial portrayed him as a man frequently short on cash, who leaned on school construction contractors for financial help.
While some of his money troubles were documented, our investigative team uncovered more information last week about his heavily mortgaged home, which raised new questions about how Diamantis was allowed to remain free on bond as he awaited sentencing.
As we reported, records show Diamantis pledged ownership of his single-family residence in Farmington to stay out of custody. It was appraised at $502,500. However, outstanding claims secured by the home — including appearance bonds in his two criminal cases — far exceed that amount.
Land records show a bank holds mortgages on the home. After Diamantis was indicted, he also took out loans totaling $120,000 from an acquaintance, despite signing a declaration that he wouldn’t allow additional claims against the property.
A Hofstra University law professor we interviewed told us the purpose of such a restriction is straightforward: Less equity means less financial leverage. Adding liens means the court has "less of a stick" to ensure that you continue to show up, he said.
In 2025, the government brought additional charges against Diamantis in a separate federal criminal case. He offered the same house as security for a second $500,000 bond, even after new mortgages appeared in the land records.
It's unclear what court officials knew at that time, though a mortgage recorded six days later listed the existing claims on the property.
U.S. District Judge Stefan R. Underhill denied our request to see bond documents held by the court clerk, which could shed light on that question.
A spokesperson for the U.S. Attorney's Office for the District of Connecticut declined to comment on how prosecutors involved in the two criminal cases assessed the equity in the home when evaluating bond recommendations.
The Connecticut office of U.S. Probation and Pretrial Services didn't respond to messages seeking comment.
Diamantis, who has remained in contact with numerous media outlets in Connecticut, told me in a text message that I should talk to his lawyer about the money he borrowed against the property. Pattis has yet to call me back.
When my colleague, Frankie Graziano, spoke with Diamantis remotely last month, the 70-year-old acknowledged feeling an emotional attachment to his house. A judge ordered ownership transferred to the government by last Friday.
"I used to joke with the kids saying, 'Listen, you know, the day comes when I pass away, I was going to be buried in the backyard by the shed,'" he said. "I had no intentions of ever leaving it."
