A few weeks ago, a three-judge panel from the United States Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit tossed out (pdf) most of the civil rights suit filed by David Ruttenberg, owner of the Rack ‘n’ Roll Pool hall in Manassas Park, Virginia.  Fortunately, the court did leave one Fourth Amendment claim that could save Ruttenberg’s case.

For a couple of years now, I’ve been reporting on how officials in the tiny town of Manassas Park have been harassing Ruttenberg and attempting to take away his business.  The police there have been investigating Rutenberg for several years, for what they’ve recently said are drug crimes.  As of yet, they’ve found no evidence of criminal wrongdoing by Ruttenberg.  They’ve arrested him twice on charges unrelated to drugs—once for filing a false police report and once for bouncing a check—and in both cases the charges were eventually dropped.

The police in Manassas Park have hired informants to set up drug deals in Ruttenberg’s bar (which they later cited as evidence that Ruttenberg’s bar was a filled with drug activity).  They’ve pulled over Ruttenberg’s former girlfriends, and threatened them with charges unless they provided information against him.  They’ve even co-opted security Ruttenberg had hired specifically for the purpose of keeping drugs out of his bar, and had them set up drug transactions in the bar. 

The story took a particularly weird twist last year when local politics blogger Greg Letiecq and I revealed that one of the charges levied against Ruttenberg by the Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control—that he was allowing lewd activity to go on at the bar—was due to photos dozens of photos of women dancing in various stages of undress that were taken by then-Manassas Park Vice Mayor Kevin Brendel.  At the time, Brendel was working at Ruttenberg’s bar as a part-time D.J.  Current and former Rack ‘n’ Roll staff say Brendel encouraged the women to strip and put on lewd contests when Ruttenberg wasn’t around, despite repeated warnings from Ruttenberg.

I’ve personally witnessed police harassment of Ruttenberg’s customers.  And I’ve gone through hours of surveillance video with him showing countless attempts to set him up.

Ruttenberg has shown remarkable resolve through all of this.  He records every phone conversation.  He keeps meticulous surveillance video that covers every corner of his property.  He collects statements and affidavits from staff, friends, and witnesses.  He has hired private investigators.  He has a formidable collection of evidence of public corruption and police misconduct (I’ve spent hours with him at the bar going through it all).  Unfortunately, local prosecutor Paul Ebert (the same prosecutor in the Ryan Frederick case) seems uninterested.  As does the FBI.  And the Virginia State Police.

The appeals court ruling was pretty dismissive of Ruttenberg’s suit (the ruling also misstates several facts about the case).  But the one claim they left intact may turn out to be enough.  The appeals court panel reversed the district court’s dismissal of Ruttenberg’s Fourth Amendment claim that the tactics the police used in a 2004 raid on Rack ‘n’ Roll were excessive.  And they most certainly were. 

The police initially sought a criminal search warrant for the raid.  They couldn’t find a judge to grant them one.  So instead, they claimed they were conducting a routine alcohol inspection, and raided the place anyway.  This "regulatory inspection" was clearly intended to intimidate Ruttenberg and his customers, and to find evidence of criminality—the police brought more than 70 officers from Manassas Park and surrounding jurisdictions, some in uniform, some in plain clothes, and still others in ski-mask hats and camouflage pumping shot guns as the stormed the place (on Ladies’ Night).

If this was a routine alcohol inspection, you have to wonder what an actual drug raid might have looked like.  Here’s Ruttenberg’s surveillance video of the raid.  Er, "inspection":

The only people arrested in the raid were either undercover cops or people Ruttenberg later learned were working for the police as confidential informants.

The bad news is that while the ruling remands the remaining claim back to the district court for further proceedings, the panel then expresses a good deal of skepticism about whether the remaining claim should ultimately survive.  In fact, the ruling nearly instructs the district court on how to dismiss it.

The good news is that Ruttenberg has several state claims that remain intact, which he can now attach to his federal case.  That gets him into discovery, where he can demand to see everything the town of Manassas Park has accumulated in its long investigation of him.

Ruttenberg’s other problem right now is that he has run out of money to pursue the case any further.  He had kept his bar open at a loss for a couple of years in hopes of selling it.  He was finally able to sell it at a steep loss last year, but that and the legal fees he has accumulated have wrecked him.  He’s currently looking for legal representation to help him continue the case.

Last Thursday, narcotics cops in Troy, New York shot the locks off a door, tossed a flash grenade through a window, and stormed a house as part of an early-morning drug raid.  They found only a single mother inside, not the drugs or weapons described in the warrant.  The raid seems to have stemmed from a bad tip from a confidential informant.  But Troy authorities don’t seem particularly repentant.  Here’s District Attorney Richard McNally:

"The checks and balances were in place. We checked and double-checked the information in this case. All the checks and double-checks were done. Unfortunately, it didn’t work as planned."

Obviously the checks and balances weren’t in place, or the police wouldn’t have terrorized an innocent woman (fortunately, her five-year-old daughter wasn’t home at the time).

One local TV reporter spoke with a police sergeant related to the case, who said the police have no intention of repairing the damage they did to the woman’s home.

Sgt. Dean: "We did not hit the wrong house, we hit the house that the search warrant directed us to hit."

Anya: "But was that information that led up to that right?"

Sgt. Dean: "My bosses are going through this whole investigative process to make sure that we were as thorough as possible."

Anya: "What was the level of threat that you assessed prior to coming into the home?"

Sgt. Dean: "That there were weapons in the house, or that the drugs were stored in that manor."

Anya: "In this house, you found no drugs?" Sgt. Dean: "We are not publicly speaking on that issue at this point."

Anya: "Do you think this will hurt your credibility?"

Sgt. Dean: "The last thing we want to do is enter an innocent person’s home – it doesn’t get us anywhere, and it doesn’t hamper the drug trade."

Anya: "Will you be going back to clean-up the damage to the house?"

Sgt. Dean: "We just have to enter lawfully with our search warrant, that is our only obligation."

Anya: "And you can leave it in any state that you left it?"

Sgt. Dean: "Yes. We had probable cause that led us to believe there was drug activity."

Which apparently means they feel no obligation to clean up the mess they made.

Twenty-eight-year-old Ryan Frederick currently sits in a jail in Chesapeake, Viginia for killing Det. Jarrod Shivers during a drug raid on Frederick’s home. He had no criminal record, and just a misdemeanor amount of marijuana in his home. He also says someone broke into his home three nights before the raid. He’s being charged with capital murder and felony manufacture of marijuana.

The raid was conducted based solely on the word of a confidential informant. Police made no attempt to buy drugs from Frederick. A couple of weeks ago, local TV station WTKR identified the police informant in the case, a 20-year-old man named Steven who had several charges pending against him at the time of the raid, was dating the sister of Frederick’s fiance, and had a standing grudge with Frederick. The station reported that Frederick and his friends and family believe Steven was the one who broke into Frederick’s home the same week of the raid.

Last week I received a tip that there may have been a second man involved in the break-in at Ryan Frederick’s house. My source has spoken to the man a few times over the last few months, and says the man has confirmed not only that he and Steven together broke into Frederick’s house at the behest of the police, but that the two had been working as paid police informants for months—and had actually broken into several houses around Chesapeake, all with the blessing of Chesapeake police officers.

The second man is currently in the Chesapeake City jail. I don’t see any point in revealing his identity right now, so I’ll just call him "Reggie." I called the jail and arranged an interview with Reggie set for last Saturday afternoon. The jail checked with Reggie, who then asked what the interview would be about. I mentioned Steven’s name, and Reggie agreed to the interview.

Reggie initially was reluctant to talk to me (more on that later). Between the time I arranged the interview and the time I drove to Chesapeake to speak with him, his attorney had instructed him not to talk to me at all. I asked if he’d be more willing to talk if I didn’t use his name. He responded that he’s not worried about retaliation for being a snitch, he’s worried about retaliation from the police.

Still, after a few minutes, he did begin to corroborate some of the things my source told me.

Reggie told me he knows Steven "from the streets." He confirmed that the two had been working as paid police informants for several months. The police would pay them to find stashes of drugs or evidence of burglaries. I asked Reggie if the police ever encouraged him to actually break into a home to look for information, as he had told my source. Reggie hesitated, then declined to say. "I don’t want to get into any more trouble," he said.

I then mentioned my source, and asked if Reggie he had spoken with him. He said "yes." I asked if what he told my source was true. He again said "yes," but added that he was scared, and "that’s not something I can get into right now. I just want to do my time and go home."

Because they were regularly working with the police, the two men seem to have started to think they were above the law. Last January, just a few days before the Ryan Frederick raid, Steven was arrested and charged with credit card fraud and grand larceny for some credit cards police say he stole last December.

Reggie told me Steven contacted him shortly after that arrest, and told him about the charges. He says Steven told him he had worked out a deal with the police where they’d help him with the credit card charges if he could bring back evidence that Ryan Frederick was growing marijuana.

Reggie says he and Steven then broke into Frederick’s detached garage to obtain evidence against Frederick. Once again, I asked if the police knew about the break-in. Reggie again refused to answer, and again explained that he was afraid of possible retaliation from the police.

Reggie said he’s personally never met Frederick, and that the break-in at Frederick’s house all went through Steven. He said he saw television reports of the raid later that week, and immediately knew it was the same house he and Steven had broken into days earlier.

Reggie was arrested a few weeks later on February 12 on a burglary charge he says was trumped up.

Reggie has a long record. In May 2007 he pleaded guilty to burglary, grand larceny, and breaking and entering. He served six months of a three-year sentence on those charges, with the rest suspended. He was released in August. In 2006 he was charged with burglary and arson of an occupied dwelling. Those charges were nolle prossed, meaning the prosecutor could refile them within the statute of limitations if he wished.

But Reggie says the burglary charge on February 12 was concocted to keep him quiet about the Frederick raid. If what he told my source is true—that the police were encouraging informants to break into private residences to gather evidence—that’s pretty damning. It would amount to actual criminal conduct by members of the Chesapeake Police Department.

Reggie explained to me last weekend that one reason he was reluctant to talk to me is that shortly after he spoke to my source earlier this year, the police added additional charges to rap sheet. He believes this too was retaliatory, and designed to keep him quiet. This, he said, is why he couldn’t be as forthcoming with me. He was denied bail on February 14th, and has been in the city jail ever since.

A search of the Chesapeake General Court’s public records presents a time-line that supports Reggie’s story. He was arrested on February 12 on charges of burglary, grand larceny, and credit card larceny. He spoke to my source a few times over the next several weeks. On June 5, the police then added another grand larceny charge, and a charge of entering a house to commit assault and battery. At that point, Reggie stopped talking to my source.

We also know that the credit card charges for which Steven was arrested in January were dropped in April. They were then reinstated in May, and Steven was indicted. On May 19 a warrant was issued for his arrest. I was able to get in touch with a friend of Steven’s, who made it rather clear that Steven isn’t interested in talking to journalists right now.

So at the very least, here, we now have more confirmation that informants working for the police illegally broke into Ryan Frederick’s home three days before the drug raid. At worst, they may have done so with the consent of the police, this may not have been the first time they’ve done so, and the police may be intimidating the two men to prevent them from talking about it.

Moreover, you also have the unfortunate scenario where two men who may be the most important witnesses in Ryan Frederick’s trial are facing a slew of charges of their own, and basically at the mercy of the very police department their testimony could implicate.

Back in January, Chesapeake City Manager William Harrell hired an outside firm to conduct a top-to-bottom review of the city police department. So it seems clear that some officials in Chesapeake city government know there are problems. Given the circumstances of this case, though, and that a man’s life may be on the line, these latest allegations merit an outside investigation of Chesapeake PD, if not by Virginia Attorney General Bob McConnell, then by U.S. Attorney Chuck Rosenberg.

Prior archive of Frederick posts here.

On May 18, police in Easton, Connecticut conducted a heavily-armed drug raid on the home of Ronald Terebesi, Jr. They began the raid by throwing flashbang grenades through Terebesi’s windows, then battering down his door and storming the house. Friends say at the time of the raid, 33-year-old Gonzalo Guizan was visiting Terebesi to discuss the possibility of opening an employment business. According to police, the unarmed Guizan charged the raiding officers, at which point they shot and killed him.

As usual, the police, prosecutors, and state investigators are hunkering down, and not talking to the press. But some information is tricking out. Here’s what we know:

• The raid came after a tip from a stripper who had visited Trebesi’s home. She reported seeing two glass pipes and said she witnessed Trebesi smoke a small amount of crack cocaine he stored in a tin. She made the report at 9am on the same day of the raid.

• There was a reported drive-by shooting at Trebesi’s home in March, though Trebesi appears to have been the victim, not the perpetrator.

• Police found no guns in the home, but did find some cocaine and the two pipes, and have charged Trebesi with possession, which means there wasn’t enough to trigger an automatic charge of distribution.

So we have a heavily-armed, paramilitary-style raid conducted based on a tip from a stripper of drug use, not distribution. In the process, a slight, unarmed man runs toward the raiding police officers, and is shot dead.

I think it’s safe to say that Guizan likely had no idea the intruders were police. If he was aware of the shots fired at Trebesi’s home in March, he likely thought Trebesi was being attacked again. But it seems unlikely (to put it mildly) that an unarmed man would knowingly run toward a team of well-armed, raiding police officers to protect his friends small stash of cocaine.

We’re told over and over that even in no-knock raids, the police announce themselves as they’re coming into the home, and that everyone inside ought to know they’re being raided by cops, not criminal intruders. But if that’s the case, why deploy flash grenades just before making entry? They’re designed to disorient and confuse. That’s the whole reason for using them. You can’t at the same time say it’s necessary to disorient and confuse people, but that they also should hear, recognize, process, and believe the police announcement you make at the same time you’re deploying the concussion grenades.

Finally, it looks right now as if the raid was a reaction to a tip from a single source that Trebesi and possibly Guizan were using drugs. There’s as yet no indication there was any evidence of distribution. The raid was done within hours of the tip from the stripper, so it’s unlikely the police did much surveillance or attempted a controlled drug by from Trebesi.

The police will argue the officer who shot Guizan was reacting to a volatile situation. He had precious little time to determine whether the man running toward him was armed, or whether he presented a threat to the officer’s safety. That’s all probably true, though it doesn’t account for the fact that the police created those volatile circumstances in the first place. It also doesn’t account for the fact that had Guizan been the one who misjudged the threat and shot and killed one of the raiding officers, he’d almost certainly be in Ryan Frederick’s shoes right now.

The best solution is of course to stop these aggressive drug policing tactics, which continue result in unnecessary deaths and injuries. But if you’re going to insist on using them, you can’t keep holding the people you’re raiding to a higher standard than the (hopefully) well-trained police officers conducting the raids.

Guizan’s parents—who lost their only other son in a car accident—are considering a lawsuit.

Arthur Tesler was the only officer to take part in the Kathryn Johnston raid who didn’t take a plea bargain. Despite admitting that he lied, helped cover up Johnston’s murder, and stood watch outside while other officers handcuffed the bleeding 92-year-woman—allowing her to die while they planted marijuana in her basement—he was convicted today only on the charge of lying to investigators. He’ll face a maximum of five years in prison.

The one good thing to come out of the case is we got to see just how vast, deep, and pernicious the culture of corruption and disregard for civil rights ran in Atlanta’s police department. Tesler testified that narcotics officers were required to serve nine warrants and make two arrest per month, or they’d risk losing their jobs. This led to routine lying on warrants and bullying and intimidation of informants. What we don’t know is how many people were wrongly raided, arrested, and jailed because of all of this.

Some potentially big news in the Chesapeake,, Virginia drug raid this past January that resulted in the death of Chesapeake PD Det. Jarrod Shivers, and sent 28-year-old Ryan Frederick to jail on murder charges.

Local news station WTKR reporter Stacy Smith was given access to letters Frederick has written to friends and relatives. From those, she has determined that the informant in the case is 20-year-old named "Steven." The station isn’t yet reporting the man’s full name. Chesapeake PD refuses to confirm his identity.

The informant was apparently dating the sister of Frederick’s fiance. Prior to the raid, Frederick and the informant got into an argument after Frederick accused him of stealing something from his home. According to Frederick, the informant threateningly promised he’d be back—which may explain the break-in just prior to the raid.

The informant has a shady past, including arrest for trespassing, a spotty employment history, and—most interestingly—a grand larceny arrest for credit card theft and credit card fraud just prior to the raid. After the raid, the grand larceny charge against the informant was dismissed. The fraud charge was set aside. The fraud charge was later reinstated. "Steven" was due in court to face that charge last week, but didn’t show. He’s now considered a fugitive.

Smith writes:

According to the affidavit for the search warrant that informant is the only source for the raid. There were no corroborating confidential informants. There was no surveillance. There were no undercover dope buys.

If Smith is correct, the police took the word of an unemployed guy with a grudge, a criminal record, and who had just been arrested for stealing credit cards, all in order to conduct a nighttime raid on a guy who had no prior record, and for whom neighbors and former employers have nothing but praise. They apparently did no corroborating investigation. A cop died as a result. And now they want to bring the hammer down on Ryan Frederick to account for their mistakes.

It’s increasingly looking like Ryan Frederick is not only innocent, but that he has a compelling civil rights suit against the city of Chesapeake and its police department.

Hoffman was caught with marijuana and ecstasy in Florida after a raid on her apartment. After threatening her with prison time, the police then gave Hoffman the option of becoming an informant–without first consulting with her lawyer. They set up a deal with her connection. What happened in between isn’t yet clear. But they found her body late last week.

Proving once again that the most dangerous thing about illicit drugs like ecstasy and marijuana isn’t the drugs themselves. It’s what the government does to you after you’re caught with them.

Several of Hoffman’s friends and family have emailed me. They say the police told her to set up an a purchase of 1,500 ecstasy pills, two ounces of cocaine, and a gun that would have totaled well more than $10,000. They also say the amount and the inclusion of cocaine and the gun would have been unusual for Hoffman. If true, that’s a bush-league move that almost certainly tipped these guys off. The gun, I guess, was so the authorities could hit the dealers with an extra charge of using a gun in the commission of a drug crime, which sends the mandatory minimums through the roof.

The first thing the Tallahassee police did after announcing that they’d found Hoffman’s body was blame Hoffman for her own death. They then said they themselves “followed all the proper protocols.” Pardon my French, but maybe that’s a good indication that it’s time to change the fucking protocols.

Sad as it is to say, maybe the death of a young, pretty, white college girl with a promising future will finally draw some scrutiny to this absurd, shady, under-the-radar business of drug informants. I doubt it. But maybe.

MORE: The article has since been updated. Look like the setup came after the police executed a search warrant on Hoffman’s apartment, and found a little over 5 ounces of marijuana, six ecstasy pills, and some paraphernalia. That’s what they threatened her with to get her to turn into an informant. I’d imagine the thugs who killed her smelled the set-up from a mile away. The article also notes that not only didn’t the police let Hoffman’s attorney know they were wiring her up, they didn’t even bother to inform the prosecutor.

…. is now available on the reason website.

In the May issue of reason–which should be hitting newsstands any day now–I have a long feature about the Colomb family in Church Point, Louisiana. It’s a long story with some twists and turns, but the gist is that in 2006, 57-year-old Ann Colomb and three of her sons were convicted in federal court of conspiracy for running would would have been the largest Louisiana crack operation outside of New Orleans. The evidence against the family was three incidents stemming from nearly 10 years of harassment of the family by racist local sheriff’s deputies, a raid which turned up contraband immediately claimed by another party, and the testimony of a parade of jail house informants called by the federal prosecutor in the case.

To believe the federal government, you’d have to buy the idea that this working class family living in a modest, one-story bungalow was buying $500,000 worth of crack cocaine per week over the course of several years. The total street value of the drugs was somewhere around $70 million.

All that time, the Colomb boys were working backbreaking construction jobs, going to school, and in one case, getting up a 3am to collect garbage, while also earning a college degree.

The case fell apart when several inmates came forward to reveal an information sharing network inside the federal prison system. Inmates were selling one another photos, case facts, and even grand jury testimony about pending cases, then calling up federal prosecutors offering to testify in exchange for time off of their own drug sentences. “Hey, Mr. Prosecutor, I sold that family drugs, too! What can you give me?”

In the Colomb case, Assistant U.S. Attorney Brett Grayson had 31 jail house snitches ready to testify that they had sold drugs to Ann Colomb and her sons. They were lying.

The charges against the Colomb family were eventually dropped and dismissed with prejudice, but not until the family had served four months in prison, spent their savings on their defense, and had the threat of spending their lives in prison hung over their heads for more than five years.

Sadly, the odds of the family getting compensated for their ordeal are long. The only logical party for them to sue is the U.S. Attorney’s Office and, by extension, the federal government. Unfortunately, prosecutors have almost complete immunity from civil rights suits.

Even after all of this came out, federal prosecutors attempted to use some of the same jail house witnesses in yet another conspiracy case. The Colomb case and all the baggage around it is an absolute outrage, and is illustrative of the problem with using testimony bartered from jail house informants. The incentives don’t just make lying possible, they out and out demand it. The federal judge in the case was so upset by what happened in his courtroom he actually agreed to give me an on-the-record interview, and is quoted in the article. That almost never happens.

The Colomb case sits at the troubling nexus of drug war excess, lingering racism, and the convict-at-all-costs mentality too prevelant among some federal prosecutors. If you don’t have a subscription to reason, well, first get one. Then head down to the newsstand to pick up the May issue.

Here are some photos I took when I was in Louisiana to whet your appetite:

• 100-year-old tortoise adopts baby hippo.
• You gotta’ read this article to really believe it. The city of L.A. is going to bizarre lengths to prevent vendors from selling . . . grilled bacon-wrapped hot dogs.
• Mitt Romney’s classless exist: Too much porn gives us bastard black babies!
• Ah, federalism and property rights–two fundamental principles of conservative philosophy, right? Looks like the Bush administration DEA’s new tact on medical marijuana is to threaten landlords who rent out space to marijuana dispensaries with forfeiture unless they boot their tenants. I’d say the guiding principle of this administration is moral rectitude.
• Judge in Pennsylvania throws out “outrageous” case in which police paid an informant to have sex with a suspected prostitute . . . four times. Good work if you can get it, I guess.

Last July, I posted about a brewing scandal in Cleveland in which longtime DEA informant Jerrell Bray admitted to conspiring with DEA agent Lee Lucas to lie in at least two dozen cases, resulting in 21 convictions.

The Cleveland Plain Dealer reports on the sad case of one of the wrongfully accused, nursing home attendant Geneva France.

Geneva France walked out of federal prison with $68 and a bus ticket home. That’s all the government had to offer a woman who had served 16 months of a decade-long prison sentence for a crime she didn’t commit.

The mother of three returned to her family, but her youngest child — who was 18 months old when France was sent to prison — didn’t recognize her.

And France, 25, had no home to return to.

Her landlord had evicted her from the rental during her incarceration, and everything she owned had been tossed on the street.

France’s case is the nightmare scenario for a system that critics say sometimes dispenses justice differently for rich and poor.

It shows how easy it is for the government to get convictions in cases built on shaky investigations.

Defense attorneys say a street-smart but dishonest informant and a federal agent working without oversight manipulated the system to convict France and dozens of others.

"They stole the truth," France said. "I don’t think I’ll ever trust people again. It’s too hard."

"I don’t know how a human being with a heart could stand up there and lie about another person," France said. "They stole part of my life."

France can’t find work because she can’t get references, and can’t explain the 18-month gap in her employment record she spent wrongfully incarcerated. She couldn’t keep in touch with her kids while in prison because they couldn’t afford to visit, and she couldn’t afford to call. The federal government owes her a hell of a lot more than $68.

Fifteen more convictions related to the investigation are likely to be overturned in the coming weeks. Bray, the informant, is now in prison for perjury. Remarkably, DEA agent Lucas not only hasn’t been charged or convicted, he apparently still has a job. His dealings with Bray mark the sixth time in his 17-year career that he has come under investigation for his work with informants.

In 2005, a report by the FBI’s inspector general found that agency failed to comply with DOJ guidelines regarding the use of informants 87 percent of the time. That’s not a typo. In nearly nine of every ten cases. And that’s just the FBI. The report didn’t cover other DOJ police agencies, like the DEA or ICE. I’ve reported on how the FBI won’t even guarantee that its informants aren’t killing people—or sending innocent people to prison—while agents look the other way.

Here’s more on the 15th DNA exoneration in Dallas County since 2001. This guy did 27 years for a rape he didn’t commit.

Meanwhile, Scott at Grits for Breakfast notes that if you count the 24 people wrongfully convicted in the Dallas fake drug scandal of 2002 (in which gypsum and pool chalk planted by an informant miraculously came back positive for cocaine and meth in police field tests), the number of total exonerations in the county since 2001 rises to 39.

•  Two reports from USA Today.  One shows a steep climb in the number of federal prosecutions of police brutality case.  The other, a disturbing example of why federal prosecutions are sometimes necessary.  In this case, jury deference to police officers and local prosecutors’ inability to get police to testify against other officers (stop snitchin’, anyone?) resulted in acquittal of seven officers accused of severely beating of two Milwaukee men.  Federal prosecutors were able to secure a conviction.  I should add here that the federal involvement doesn’t particularly bother me in these cases.  Police officers are government officials.  And the Fourteenth Amendment allows for the federal government to intervene when state and local governments are violating civil rights.  Same reason I’d be more than happy if the FBI’s investigation of public corruption in the Rack ‘n’ Roll case results in federal charges.

•  Little nugget pulled from this Slate Explainer piece on suspected wife-killing cop Drew Peterson:

New evidence suggests that Peterson used official law-enforcement databases to check up on his fourth wife and her associates before she disappeared. Peterson’s attorney says it was common practice for Bolingbrook police to run checks for friends and family, and to run prank names to alleviate boredom.

•  Charlottesville, Virginia cop loses his temper with a couple of jaywalkers, roughs them up. That would include shoving to the ground a woman who later discovered she was pregnant at the time. Witnesses say the police officer was clearly the aggressor. So guess who’s facing charges?

•  Here’s at least one story resulting in a just resolution: The city of Denver has agreed to pay $900,000 to the family of a man shot and killed by a Denver cop. Frank Lobato was killed when Denver police mistakenly entered his home looking for someone else. Officer Ranjan Ford apparently mistook a soda can Lobato was holding for a gun, and shot and killed him.

•  Details are sketchy, because the prosecutor and police department aren’t talking much, but a Montana police officer has been cleared of any criminal wrongdoing by a grand jury after shooting and killing a man during a road rage altercation while he was off duty. The incident apparently started when someone in a truck flicked a cigarette out the window, which landed on the cop’s personal vehicle. He then approached the truck out of uniform, an altercation ensued, and ended up shooting one of the men in the truck twice. The officers was the only one of the three men with a weapon. Make of it what you will. Something tells me that if a regular person instigated a road rage confrontation that ended with him shooting and killing someone, he likely wouldn’t have gotten off so easy.

The ACLU’s been doing a bang-up job drawing attention to the many problems associated with the use of drug informants. They now also have a blog dedicated to drawing attention to the most recent outrages.

Check it out here.

Today’s the one-year anniversary of the Kathryn Johnston raid. One part of the case I think has been overlooked over the last twelve months is the role of Alex White. White was a paid police informant for Atlanta police when the Johnston raid went down. When the officers who killed Johnston realized their mistake, they knew they had to find someone to play the role of the fictional informant they claimed in the search warrants made the controlled drug buys from Johnston’s home.

Knowing what we now know about the corruption and brutality of Atlanta PD’s narcotics division, White’s refusal to play along was pretty extraordinary. He claims he was put in an APD patrol car and pressured for hours to lie for the narcotics team. He finally escaped and called 911, then notified federal authorities, then told his story to the media. Had he played along, most of the country would probably think the 92-year-old Johnston was a drug dealer, or at least was allowing one to use her home, and that her death was unfortunate, but justified. We’d also never have known of the rampant corruption, perjury, and abuse of the informant system at APD. Much of it would likely still be going on.

White faced the possibility of retribution from the cops he worked with (who had, obviously, already shown themselves capable of criminal activity), as well as from the many drug dealers he’d helped put in jail. He had to put all of his faith in the federal officials investigating the case.

Last week, the Atlanta Journal-Constitution ran a feature on White, and on what’s happened to him since he came forward. Not sure most people who read the piece will find White particularly sympathetic. He did of course traverse the morally dubious world of a professional snitch. Still, there’s no question that his actions in the Johnston case were honorable, and proved critical to getting out the real story about what happened on Neal Street last November.

In response to my Fox column:

Maybe if the person didn’t put himself/herself in the position to be used as a scapegoat by some convict we wouldn’t be having the discussion concerning snitches. Maybe if the person who was being interrogated hadn’t put themselves into the position of being interrogated we wouldn’t have to worry about interrogation techniques. Maybe if the person involved in the lineup hadn’t been convicted of a crime in the past his mug shot wouldn’t be in the line up. Notice the theme of these comments. Usually, not always, these people that you are worried about have brought their situations upon themselves. Making the police officers and investigators jobs more difficult only impedes the process and makes the victims wait for their just retribution.

I am 64 years old. I have never been arrested, never been interviewed by any law enforcement officer, never been subjected to a personal body search and have never been asked to let a police officer look in my vehicle. I wonder why. Maybe its because I am honest, I obey the law, I treat police officers with respect and I understand that if I do the crime I will do the time. Not wanting to be a guest of the State and a bunk mate of Bubba, along with the values I was taught by my parents keeps me from having issues with the law enforcement folks.

I find this sad not because some schlub in Canyon, Texas holds these views, but because it’s my impression that they’re representative of how quite a lot of people feel.

All of those wrongfully convicted people must have done something wrong, right? I mean, if they didn’t want to get swept up, arrested, interrogated, charged, and convicted, they shouldnta’ been hanging around criminals. Shouldnta’ been living near criminals. Shouldnta’ been black. Shouldnta’ been poor.

Seriously. I emailed this guy back, explaining to him that many of the exonerated over the last ten years had no prior record, and were merely swept up off the street because they looked like someone police were searching for. His response? They should look in the classifieds (where, he assures, there are lots of great jobs available), get a real job, and move out of poor, high-crime neighborhoods.

Look for more of this with the continuing federalization of crime.

Federal conspiracy charges, by the way, not only allow federal prosecutors to retry crimes for which you’ve already done time or even been acquitted of in state court, they can also dredge up incidents that happened a decade or more ago–alleged crimes for which state statutes of limitations have already expired. If they can convince a jury that the incidents are linked, however tenuously, they will.

I’m working on a story on a federal conspiracy case that’ll blow your mind. Should be in the magazine in a few months.

This is all thanks to the drug war, of course. The broadening of the scope with which prosecutor levy federal conspiracy charges, the inherent unfairness of mandatory minimums, the way we measure the success of prosecutors by how they pile up convictions regardless of mercy or justice, and, in the case I’m working on, you can toss in the obvious problems with the use of jailhouse informants.

Good for the judge in the case linked above for excoriating the prosecutors. Too bad it won’t deter them a bit.

The Washington Times picks up the House of Death story, first blogged here last December, and doggedly reported by Texas investigative journalist Bill Conroy.

Sandalio "Sandy" Gonzalez, a now-retired U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) senior executive service supervisor, and other high-ranking DEA officials are demanding a congressional investigation into the use by federal agents of a "homicidal maniac" as a paid informant in a probe of a Juarez drug gang and the failure of federal prosecutors who oversaw the case to stop it — even after they learned of the informant’s role in the killings.

U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents and federal prosecutors, according to Mr. Gonzalez, went to "extreme lengths" to protect the informant, adding that a dozen persons might be alive today had those in charge pulled the plug on the investigation.

This needs to be a much, much bigger scandal. Particularly in light of the congressional hearings last July, in which an FBI representative couldn’t assure members of the Hosue Judiciary Committee that the agency had policies in place to make sure its agents weren’t looking the other way while its own informants were committing violent crimes.

Two weeks ago, I wrote about a fairly startling congressional hearing in which a representative from the FBI could not assure two congressmen that the agency would not (a) allow its undercover informants to get away with murdering U.S. citizens, and, (b) keep secret exculpatory evidence that would prevent an innocent person from going to prison.

As it turns out, there are DOJ guidelines prohibiting such behavior. See page 25 (PDF):

b. A JLEA is never permitted to authorize a CI to:
(i) participate in an act of violence;
(ii) participate in an act that constitutes obstruction of justice (e.g.,
perjury, witness tampering, witness intimidation, entrapment, or the
fabrication, alteration, or destruction of evidence);
(iii) participate in an act designed to obtain information for the JLEA that
would be unlawful if conducted by a law enforcement agent (e.g.,
breaking and entering, illegal wiretapping, illegal opening or tampering
with the mail, or trespass amounting to an illegal search); or
(iv) initiate or instigate a plan or strategy to commit a federal, state, or
local offense.

If the man the FBI sent before Congress to represent the agency at hearings about the use of informants wasn’t aware of the guidelines, one can help but wonder how closely DOJ’s cops and prosecutors follow them.

Worse, when federal law enforcement agents do break them, and look the other way while their paid informants commit violent crimes, the agents in violation aren’t punished, and the victims aren’t always compensated.

For the last several years, journalist Bill Conroy has been following the "House of Death" case (and been harassed by the government for doing so), in which a paid informant for federal ICE agents (he was paid more than $200,000) participated in several brutal murders, many with the knowledge of federal law enforcement officials. Most of those killed were Mexican nationals, but one was a legal U.S. resident, and U.S. officials also stood by while, in a case of mistaken identity, an American citizen was kidnapped, taken to Mexico, and allowed to languish for three years in a Mexican prison.

The federal government recently had to pay $385,000 to a DEA whistle blower who claimed he was punished for bringing the outrageous behavior of federal ICE officials and U.S. Attorney Johnny Sutton to light. But it looks as if the families of the actual murder victims won’t get a dime.

This week, a federal judge threw out a lawsuit filed on behalf of the victims’ families in that case before it ever got to trial, ruling that even if all of their accusations were true, federal authorities have no duty to protect people from third parties, even if those third parties are working for the federal government and the government knows they’re about to commit violent crimes; and because the murders all took place in Mexico, not in the United States.

Sutton is still the U.S. Attorney for the Western District of Texas. And none of the ICE officials who participated in the House of Death case have been disciplined, save for those who tried to raise red flags about what was going on.

…this week looks at the continuing scandals related to the use of drug informants.

Here’s another one I missed while researching Overkill.

“The lady (SWAT officer) says ‘Mother F—–, I said get down or I’ll blow your f—— brains out,’” Roach said. “We were just blown away. We didn’t know what was happening, it happened so fast.”

Court documents showed police were acting on a tip from an informant that crack cocaine was being sold from Roach’s address at the time, 1773 Wilson Avenue.

A search warrant listing that address was executed and, afterward, Roach said a SWAT team pointed guns at his family, including six children ages one to 16. Then police discovered the informant had given the wrong information.

The raid happened in December 2004. It’s in the news because the family’s lawsuit was just thrown out of court on qualified immunity grounds.

“It is fundamentally under Kentucky law that the power to exercise an honest discretion necessarily includes a power to make an honest mistake in judgement,” the judgment read.

Assistant Commonwealth’s Attorney William O’Brien said the judgment exonerates the city from any liability and that it’s a balancing act of society’s needs.

So what incentive is there to not take shortcuts, and make sure the informant knows what he’s talking about next time?

Last week, a federal judge excoriated the FBI for not only hiding exculpatory evidence that would have exonerated four innocent men who served more than thirty years in prison, but for rewarding those who did the hiding and covering up with bonuses and promotions. For this crime against American citizens, American taxpayers will now shell out more than $100 million. Thus far, none of the government agents actually responsible for this crime have been held accountable. Only rewarded.

Well, we’re just getting started. On July 19th, the House Judiciary Committee held hearings on the use and abuse of confidential drug informants. The testimony Assistant Director of the FBI Directorate of Intelligence Wayne M. Murphy gave at that hearing is truly astonishing.

The transcript below was provided by the ACLU. It comes from the Q &A session after the witnesses provided their initial testimony. Murphy’s being questioned by Rep. Dan Lundgren (R-Calif.) and Rep. William Delahunt (D-Mass.). The context: Lundgren and Delahunt have cited incidents in the past in which the FBI has covered up evidence that its confidential drug informants have committed violent crimes (including murder) in order to protect their identities, so that they could continue providing the bureau with information. They’ve cited other incidents, including the case above, in which the FBI has hidden exculpatory evidence, and allowed innocent people to go to prison. Lundgren and Delahunt want Murphy to assure them that the FBI has instituted policies to ensure that these sorts of incidents won’t happen again–that murderers won’t be protected and innocent people sent to prison in order to preserve drug investigations.

Remarkably, Murphy refuses to make such assurances. We pick up the transcript just after Lundgren has asked his initial question, and Murphy has obfuscated. Lundgren follows up:

Representative Lungren: If I could just ask my question once again very simply. That is: Is there a policy in the FBI to share information with local and state law enforcement officials when you, the FBI, have become aware that your confidential informants have engaged in serious violent felony activity, not all criminal activity, serious violent felony activity, in the jurisdiction of the local or the state authorities?”

Murphy: It is my understanding Congressman that there is not a specific documented policy, directly to answer your question sir.

Representative Lungren: Well I thank you for that because you may have given me the basis for enacting our legislation to require that. Do you think it should be?

Murphy: I think it’s difficult to make a generalization that will fly in every circumstance. And in fact in some cases there are activities which are closely coordinated with a local law enforcement activity but have equities that affect other local law enforcement activities. We’re being asked to respect and support the acts of one local law enforcement agency against another. And I want to say again, I don’t mean in terms of confrontational but in terms of balancing the equities and the interests of a long term investigation. So I don’t think it would be fair or accurate for me to try and characterize a general solution ….

Representative Lungren: All I can say is that if I were still a law enforcement officer in the state of California and you were to tell me that the FBI was reserving judgment about whether to tell me that you have CIs in my jurisdiction that are committing serious violent felonies, I would be more than offended.

I’ll say. And let’s keep something in mind, here. This would be a morally dubious policy even if were were talking about matters of, say, national security. But we aren’t. We’re talking about the FBI concealing evidence of murder and other violent crimes, and of knowingly allowing innocent people to go to prison in order to not disrupt drug investigations. In other words, all of this is necessary, the FBI is saying, to keep people from getting high. And when confronted by the United States Congress, the FBI can’t even say outright that this is categorically a bad idea, nor can it promise that it will institute a policy preventing these things from happening in the future.

We get more of the same when Rep. Delahunt questions Murphy:

Representative Delahunt: The scandal occurred in the Boston office in the late ’90s, about a decade ago. These issues have existed for decades now…. Is there a legal responsibility on the part of the FBI, in the case of murder, to report information to local or state law enforcement agencies?

Murphy: Congressman the Attorney General guidelines in their infinite…

Representative Delahunt: I’m not talking about the Attorney General guidelines. Do they have a legal responsibility, currently, to report evidence, both exculpatory, or evidence of a crime, when a homicide is being investigated?”

Murphy: If you will indulge me Congressman, I’d like the opportunity to answer that question offline because there are various circumstances under which that question might be answered differently that would include some of the aspects about how we manage sources, how we make decisions about the management of sources. And I would appreciate the opportunity to answer that question for the record offline.

The hell with that. If the FBI is “managing its sources” in a way that allows for innocent people to be murdered by its informants, or sent to prison for crimes they didn’t commit, we damned well need to know about it.

To his credit, Rep. Delahunt doesn’t back down.

Representative Delahunt:I’m not asking about qualities or guidelines or considerations. Does there exist today, in your opinion, a legal responsibility for the FBI to communicate, in a homicide investigation, either exculpatory information to the state and local authorities, or evidence that would indicate that an individual is responsible for murder? That’s a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question.

Murphy:I would prefer to answer that question offline if you wouldn’t mind, thank you Congressman.

Delahunt: Well I do mind. And I don’t see the reason why that answer has to be provided offline. That’s a legal question.

Now, go back and read about the “House of Death” case.

Delahunt and Lundgren say they plan to introduce legislation that will force the FBI to both divulge exculpatory evidence and divulge evidence that its informants have committed violent crimes. Good for them.

Rather horrifying, though, that we’d need a law like that in the first place.

I blogged about this yesterday at Hit & Run. But the article I linked to doesn’t even include the worst of it. Via Instapundit:

“FBI officials up the line allowed their employees to break laws, violate rules, and ruin lives, interrupted only with the occasional burst of applause,” said Gertner, berating the FBI for giving commendations and bonuses to the agents who helped send the men to prison for the killing in Chelsea of Edward “Teddy” Deegan, a small-time hoodlum.

Pardon my Frennch, but why aren’t the agents who covered this up in fucking jail?

This isn’t just something that happened 35 years ago and got swept up and forgotten. The campaign to keep these innocent men in jail remained active well into the 1990s. And the argument from the Justice Department attorney that the federal government is under no obligation to share information with state and local prosecutors that could prevent an innocent man from going to jail ought to horrify you. In this case, the FBI let four innocent men rot in prison, initially in order to protect a mob investigation, but eventually to protect the fact that the FBI had allowed this to happen in the first place.

That someone from the Justice Department would argue such situational ethics chills the blood, and draws natural questions about other federal investigations and prosecutions. Should the federal government allow innocent people to go to prison to protect terrorism investigations? To protect the identity of drug informants (we already know the DEA is willing to look the other way while murders transpire in order to protect its informants) ?

What other “greater goods” are worth robbing innocent people of their freedom?

And while I don’t have a problem with taxpayers footing part of the bill, here, every FBI agent complicit in this cover-up ought to lose everything he owns, and it all ought to go to these men and their families–similar to the way, say, FBI and DEA agents seize the property of drug suspects, and siphon the proceeds back to their respective agencies.