|
|
by Ruffin Prevost Special Assignments Team ruffinp@parascope.com "Shhh, I can't talk right now. The phones may be bugged. I think they're listening to me." The "manic whisperer" has long been a Hollywood trademark for stereotypically paranoid characters who are convinced that their phones are tapped. But lately, Hollywood residents (and millions more throughout Los Angeles County) have discovered that the paranoids were right. |
|
As part of the legal wrangling and eventual fallout resulting from a 1996 cocaine possession case (known as the Lauro Gaxiola case) involving local wiretaps, Los Angeles area defense attorneys have learned of an LAPD surveillance tactic known as "the handoff," which has resulted in possibly hundreds of thousands of phone conversations between law-abiding citizens being monitored and recorded, to be kept on file for at least a decade, as is the department's policy. In fact, since 1984, the LAPD has been sharing confidential wiretap information between various department personnel without court permission or supervisory oversight, much less Constitutional authorization. How can something like this happen? Easier than you might think. 
"The Handoff"
Let's say the LAPD is investigating a guy named "Bill," suspected of something just awful, like drug-dealing or murder. Detectives would make a case before a judge for probable cause that "Bill's" phone should be tapped. Never mind that the burden of proof is on the LAPD to prove that there is no other way besides a wiretap to obtain the needed information. These days, a quick and dirty phone bug is often the shortest distance between constitutional rights and a quick conviction. Assuming the wiretap request passes judicial muster, a judge signs a court order (as required by law) authorizing the tap, which typically should last for only a short period of time -- about 40 days on average. What's more, investigators are required to file reports every 72 hours detailing whether and why the tap should be continued, and the judge is required to sign off on that order, again, every 72 days, as mandated by law. Furthermore, after 90 days, the law requires that anyone whose voice has been overheard -- from family members to pizza delivery drivers -- be notified of the tap in writing by investigating agencies. At least, that's how the system is supposed to work. But LAPD investigators listening in to "Bill's" calls might overhear a conversation between him and others unrelated to the original murder or drug-dealing, the initial impetus for the tap. Let's assume the alert officers, being sworn to uphold the law, pick up some detail in a conversation between "Hillary" (who uses "Bill's" phone) and her friend "Vernon." This unrelated conversation by otherwise innocent parties might suggest (but not even prove) that a different, entirely unrelated potentially illegal activity is taking place. Maybe something like obstruction of justice or perjury, for instance. What to do? The answer is simple if you're the LAPD: hand it off. The cops alert a new set of investigators to the potential misdeeds of "Hillary," and "Vernon," essentially "handing off" that aspect of the investigation. In so doing, they also provide tapes of the conversations to the new team, allowing "Hillary" and "Vernon" to babble away to a new set of snoops, essentially incriminating themselves simply by virtue of being on the wrong end of "Bill's" wiretap. The next step in the game is that the new team investigating "Hillary" and "Vernon" are supposed to corroborate, through their own independent and unbiased investigation, the facts and set of circumstances discussed on the original wiretap. (Never mind that this is often impossible, or at least cost-prohibitive, or hardly worth the effort.) Investigators then take that "evidence" to a new judge and get him or her to authorize a new wiretap on "Vernon" and "Hillary." But there's a catch. See No Evil, Hear No Evil
The catch is, the cops don't tell the new judge anything about "Bill's" original wiretap. They present the case to the judge as if they were investigating "Hillary" and "Vernon" all along, independent of any phone taps. And if they're able to bring the matter to trial, the district attorney doesn't share with the defense attorney anything about "Hillary" and "Vernon" conversing on "Bill's" wiretap -- not even during the discovery phase of trial, as is again required by law.
But in some ways, "the handoff" is just the tip of the iceberg. The details of the Gaxiola case and many others indicate that wiretaps often last much longer than the 40 day allowed by law, and no one seems to be able to produce evidence that investigators and judges are following the legally required practice of continually reporting, evaluating and reauthorizing the wiretaps every 72 hours. If that's not Orwellian enough, keep in mind that out of the tens (if not hundreds) of thousands of recorded phone calls produced by LAPD investigations, it seems unclear how many (if any) of the "innocent bystanders" who have been recorded were ever informed, as required by law. Obviously, one would expect there to be some sort of judicial or legislative oversight to prevent such abuses of the system from occurring, and in fact there are. But if you haven't guessed by now, then you still shouldn't be surprised to find out that protocol isn't being followed in the oversight department either. While peace officers are sworn to enforce the law at all times, the wiretap law in California clearly and distinctly specifies that unrelated information obtained as the result of a tap can not and in fact should not be used to open separate investigations. The California Legislature was clear and distinct on this issue, obviously looking to prevent practices such as "the handoff."
Ironically, his report is due in April of each year, and as the month has ended, no one in Lungren's office or the Legislature can produce a copy of the report, much less attest to its existence. Los Angeles defense attorneys have for years been filing motions seeking disclosure of how and why investigations against their clients were launched in the first place, only to be stonewalled because of "the handoff." No one is even sure how to guess at the number of husbands, wives, children, co-workers, lovers, employees or friends whose most intimate moments have been "handed off," recorded, reviewed, filed and stored for posterity. The Administrative Office of United States Courts, the agency charged with overseeing all "authorized" federal wiretaps (who oversees the "unauthorized" taps?) estimates that, in federal cases, only about 20% of all "monitored" conversations involve discussions of criminal activity. Which means 80% of the "monitored" calls involve anything from instructions to pick up milk on the way home to hot and heavy phone sex. (But don't worry. The police aren't interested in your pillow talk, provided you haven't removed your mattress tag.) As a result of the 1996 Gaxiola cocaine case which brought to light the LAPD's "handoff" policy, local narcotics officers admitted that their original Gaxiola investigation involved "hundreds" of secret taps and "handoff" situations. Yet the public record for local law enforcement discloses only three wiretaps during the entire year of 1997: two by LAPD officers and one originating in the LA County Sheriff's office. Were their "hundreds" in 1996 and only three in 1997? 
"No Big Deal"
Police investigators have expressed everything from anger to mild amusement that the citizens of Los Angeles wouldn't trust their judgment in regarding "handoffs," while one anonymous source in the LA District Attorney's office called the matter "no big deal." But dozens of Los Angeles defense attorneys have cried foul regarding "handoff" procedures, and many vow to appeal convictions based on what they clearly believe were illegal and unconstitutional wiretaps. And in true California fashion, many have joined in a class action suit demanding disclosure of not only every suspect or investigative target, but any and all others whose private moments were recorded during "handoff" investigations. Also, consider this: while the federal wiretap process may be a bit more effectively managed and overseen, it's certainly not any cheaper. In fact, due to advances in technology and proliferation of digital telephone and computer equipment, federal investigators (most frequently the FBI), have long claimed that they can no longer afford wiretaps. So in 1994, Congress authorized half a billion dollars -- at taxpayer expense -- to be spent by telecom companies in an effort to make their digital communications infrastructure as easy for the feds to tap as the old analog system. Some four years later, the FBI has announced it is changing its "guidelines," reducing the money it will pay telecom companies to change their networks, yet still forcing those companies to comply with "upgrading" their systems, only now at their own expense. Telecom companies, bristling at the added costs, are suing the federal government, demanding taxpayers foot the bill for digital system "upgrades." Regardless of whether the companies pay or Congress ponies up the cash, you can be sure that the bottom line is that you'll be paying extra to have your own conversations recorded, whether through taxes or higher telecom rates. Since the "handoff" news broke in Los Angeles, thousands of residents in America's second-largest city haven't been laughing at the bug-eyed, paranoid Hollywood stereotype any more. In fact, many folks now seem less concerned with whether they're paranoid, instead wondering if they're paranoid enough. Wondering how you can keep from being "handed off" and recorded? We'd love to tell you the answer, but odds are, "they're" reading this web site!  Unhappy that the LAPD is "handing off" phone calls, the LA District Attorney's Office is turning a blind eye to the practice, judges aren't stopping the process and the legislature isn't exercising proper oversight in the matter? Do something about it! File a complaint with the office of the California Attorney General. (Keep in mind, the web-based complaint form is used by the Attorney General's office to investigate businesses. No form was available request the office investigate itself.) Write to Yvonne Braithwaite Burke, chair of the LA County Board of Supervisors. Let Los Angeles Mayor Richard Riordan know how you feel. Send e-mail to the LAPD webmaster. (The LAPD web site has been "under construction" for more than a year, but that's still the only e-mail address available.) Visit the home page for the LA City Council members, look up the e-mail address for your council member, and give him or her a piece of your mind. (If you don't live in Los Angeles, just pick a council member and let them know you're glad you don't.) Contact the Chief Clerk's Office of the California Assembly and find out how to get in touch with your representatives. Write to the Los Angeles Superior Court. No judge will reply, but the web site claims that "someone" reads every letter. Drop a line to Los Angeles District Attorney Gil Garcetti, head of the largest, most powerful prosecutorial body in America. © Copyright 1998 ParaScope, Inc. (Originally posted 5/29/98.) |
 |
Matrix: Conspiracies & Cover-Ups |
|
Conspiracy message board: Share your views |
