Chicago

By ED McMANUS

The legacy of Greylord

A FEW months ago, the words meant nothing. Today, "Operation Greylord" is on the lips of every judge and lawyer in Chicago. It is the FBI's code name for an undercover investigation of bribery in the Cook County court system which has resulted at this writing in the indictments of three judges, three lawyers, a police officer, a court clerk and a bailiff, and is expected to produce many more indictments.

The investigation has been going on for three and a half years under a heavy cloak of secrecy — heavy enough to have permitted a downstate judge and several lawyers to pose as crooks in an effort to catch the real culprits. A microphone was hidden in one judge's chambers, fake law offices were set up, and a phony robbery was staged on a downtown street.

The downstate judge was Brocton Lockwood of Williamson County, who, while assigned as a substitute in the Cook County court system, observed the widespread corruption and decided to tell the U.S. Department of Justice about it. Lockwood was provided with a tape recorder which he hid in his cowboy boot and proceeded to tape bribe offers from lawyers and others.

Other undercover work was done by government agents posing as corruptible defense lawyers, corruptible prosecutors and even as criminals. The authorities "manufactured" criminal cases to be put through the court system; at the height of the project, according to former Chicago Police Supt. Richard Brzeczek, there were 73 bogus cases pending.

The indictments are a confirmation of what many people already pretty much knew — that just about anything in Chicago can be bought.

On the surface, it would appear that the probe can do nothing but good: cleansing the system of some of its worst elements. But many questions have been raised about the project. It's the old dilemma: Does the end justify the means?

Some say Greylord (the name apparently refers to the wigs of British judges) is destroying public confidence in the justice system. Others reply that Chicagoans didn't have very lofty opinions of the system in the first place. And it is pointed out that there are more than 300 judges in Cook County; only a handful are expected to be accused of corruption. The public, U.S. Atty. Dan Webb said in announcing the first indictments, "should not construe this investigation and these initial charges ... as a blot upon the integrity and reputation of the many fine judges and lawyers who practice in the Circuit Court of Cook County."

Some say it has damaged the sanctity of the courtroom — that it's just not right to bug a judge's chambers. One editorial writer rebutted that point with the observation that a judge, in defending justice, cannot make himself immune from it. Nevertheless, it's disturbing to think that Greylord's deceptions of the courts may have themselves subverted the cause of justice by weakening a prosecution case or, more importantly, denying a defendant a fair trial. (Concern has been expressed that some genuine convicted criminals may go free because their cases were tainted in the process of the project.)

The extensive use of listening devices in Greylord has raised anew serious questions about the constitutionality of such activity. The Fourth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, which prohibits unreasonable searches and seizures, requires that search warrants specify "the place to be searched and the person or things to be seized." But electronic surveillance picks up all conversations which take place while it is in operation, so it can't be limited only to the conversations described in the warrant. As a result, the privacy of others not targeted for investigation is invaded. For instance, a tap may be placed on a phone to catch a public official in the act of discussing a bribe with somebody. But during the hours that the tap is in place, other people may use that phone. They may even use it to discuss other, unrelated matters which could be incriminating.

Misuse of immunity and offers of leniency is another troubling aspect of this type of investigation. Many people accused of crimes are willing to go to any length of lying about the activity of others in order to save their own skins. The government contends that the only way it can successfully prosecute the big fish is by granting immunity or leniency to the little fish to testify against that prize catch; but how credible is a little fish who knows that the more he talks about what other people allegedly did, the less time he'll have to serve in prison?

Some critics of Greylord and similar investigations (like Abscam) have called for legislation that would prevent an undercover investigation from being undertaken without a warrant issued by a federal judge. Such a bill is now pending in Congress. It would require the investigative agency to present reasons why less intrusive means cannot be used, and it would require the agency to outline steps it intended to follow to minimize invasion of privacy or other violations of individual liberties. The judge would be required to make a formal finding of probable cause in cases where the intrusion was into areas of privacy protected by the Fourth Amendment.

One good result of Greylord may be long overdue action to reform Illinois courts by establishing a system of merit selection of judges. Under the present system, judges are nominated by political parties like other officials and elected by voters who have little knowledge of their qualifications. It is time that Illinois followed the lead of other states and took the judiciary out of politics.

46/April 1984/Illinois Issues