From Posh to Pokey: The Downward Spiral Of Raffaello Follieri

"It would be between 3,000 and 3,500 square feet," Homet says. "It's small compared to what you'd get for that money downtown, but the location is amazing." It's a few blocks from Central Park.

The apartment would be three or four bedrooms, four or 4 1/2 baths. Lots of marble and maple floors. Great views, from at least two exposures. As Homet put it, "It's basically hotel living without the room service."

As for his current abode, a spokesman at the MCC was only marginally more forthcoming. He wanted all questions in writing. While he'd give the dimensions of Follieri's cell, he would not describe, for instance, what was served at the MCC yesterday for lunch. The spokesman, Scott Sussman, did write in an e-mail that breakfast is served at 6:30 a.m. and lunch is at 11. Inmates are counted in their cells at 4 p.m., dinner is at 5, then everyone is locked in their cells at 10.

Lawyers who've been to the MCC were chattier.

"It's really terrible," says Marc Fernich, a criminal defense attorney. "It's not as bad as, say, a supermax facility, but in terms of a pretrial facility, it's hard, hard time."

"The food is god-awful," says Gerry Shargel, who conferred with John Gotti and a few hundred other clients at the MCC over the years. "It's on a tray that they bring up on an elevator and heat up in a microwave. A protein, a vegetable and a starch. Completely devoid of taste. They can buy junk food, too, at a commissary, which is why a lot of my clients actually get fat while they're there."

How Follieri is holding up isn't known. But last Friday, attorney Jeffrey Lichtman was visiting one of his clients and spotted the man of the hour. It seemed as if he was holding up pretty well, considering.

"I mean, he still had a savage tan," says Lichtman, "and even in one of those orange traffic cone-colored jumpsuits, and handcuffs, I remember thinking, 'That's a pretty good-looking guy.' "