The Summer of Our Uninformed Discontent

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In the movie Postcards from the Edge, Meryl Streep’s character declares: “Instant gratification takes too long.” Indeed. That shared sentiment underscores my anger over Strippergate.

Show me the money. Unveil the quid pro quo. Now.

Unholster the three smoking guns that will shoot holes in the careers of the three young San Diego councilmen whose offices were raided in May by the FBI. If evidence exists that Michael Zucchet, Charles Lewis and Ralph Inzunza promised political favors to Las Vegas–based (and allegedly mob-connected) strip club owners, we, the people of San Diego, deserve to see the evidence. Because while nabobs natter and the public ponders, City Hall sputters. Daily operations are being impeded by paranoia and paralysis—it’s even more crippling than the deer-in-the-headlights modus operandi adopted by Mayor Dick Murphy.

There still had been no official acknowledgment at press time—but a source with intimate knowledge of the U.S. Attorney’s investigation says all three councilmen are targets. This well-placed source promises three indictments—at the end of summer.

But even off-the-record acknowledgments in this case are thinner than the Padres’ bullpen. State-level investigations are not veiled in such secrecy. Why are federal probes so clandestine? Several federal sources say the Department of Justice is stingy with details in order to protect innocent people connected to an investigation. Tell that to Zucchet, Lewis and Inzunza—and stand back. They’ve already been pulled waist-high into the muck. Should they not be indicted by September, don’t look for their collective “thanks” to federal prosecutors for looking after their reputations.

If these FBI raids are an indication of a stronger stance on white-collar crime—particularly in the political arena—a standing ovation is in order.

Kudos to San Diego District Attorney Bonnie Dumanis for successfully prosecuting former Port Commissioner David Malcolm. Dumanis did what her predecessor would not—she took a stand against the city’s power base and punished a public official who put personal gain before public duty.

New U.S. Attorney for San Diego Carol Lam seems bent on taking an equally hard look at corruption. Her office, in pursuing the three councilmen, is using a federal tool known as RICO (the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organization Act).

There’s a marked difference, however, in the way the Malcolm and city council cases have unfolded (or failed to unfold). The public was told Malcolm was on the payroll of Duke Energy to the tune of $20,000 per month. And it was indicated that he put Duke’s interests ahead of his Port constituents’.

But other than speculation, what do we know of the charges against Zucchet, Lewis and Inzunza? The feds don’t have to talk during an investigation. Prosecutors don’t even have to physically present evidence to targets or their attorneys. The prosecution team, led by assistant U.S. Attorneys Michael Wheat and Paul Cook, is permitted to tell a subject, “We have an incriminating wiretap.” The prosecutors are not required to actually play the tape.

No federal agent, lawyer or spokesperson—here or in Las Vegas—would comment on the record about this investigation.

Despite the confidence of one well-placed source that summer’s end will bring three San Diego indictments, it remains true that many FBI probes drag on much longer than anticipated. And some never result in anything.

Sources on both sides of the investigation say one councilman is getting more scrutiny than the other two. A city source says the perceived hierarchy of possible culpability starts at the high end with Inzunza, then Lewis and Zucchet. A high-ranking legal insider says Inzunza—because he has been in office slightly longer—is a bigger target, with Lewis and Zucchet on a plane just below him.

Zucchet and Lewis were elected in November 2002. Inzunza won a special election in 2001. All three declined to comment for this story.

Zucchet’s case is particularly intriguing. The Point Loma resident was once an aide to former Councilwoman Valerie Stallings, who was forced from office for accepting undisclosed gifts from Padres owner John Moores. Before winning the 2002 election, Zucchet was legislative and community affairs director for the San Diego City Fire Fighters.

Zucchet, Lewis and Inzunza all met with Galardi family lobbyist Lance Malone. The Galardis own the Cheetah’s strip club in Kearny Mesa, as well as other nude bars in Las Vegas and around the country. Club owners —including the Galardis—want to relax the rules regarding the amount of touching allowed between strippers and patrons.

It’s been widely reported that during a city council committee meeting, Zucchet proposed looking into regulations pertaining to strip clubs. While running for office, he made a campaign promise to tighten control of those clubs. A supporter, who requests anonymity, says Zucchet’s goal all along has been to shut down Les Girls and The Body Shop, two clubs in his district.

That goal happens to play into the business interests of the competing Galardi-owned Cheetah’s.

An unusually candid politician—up until he hired an attorney who advised against talking about this case —Zucchet has not exactly acted like a guilty party. When his office was raided, he talked with federal agents for more than three hours. The legally prudent thing to do would have been to say nothing and hire an attorney. An innocent man, it would seem, would cooperate, as did Zucchet.

Zucchet’s former boss, Stallings, was a nice individual who some say was politically naïve. I don’t think Zucchet rows that boat, too. His candor—pre-raid—was impressive. He was, for example, adamant about standing up to the Padres on the team’s proposed changes to the new ballpark environs.

Unlike Lewis and Inzunza, Zucchet didn’t take campaign contributions from the Galardis or companies owned by the Galardis. Zucchet actually returned their money.

Still, today, some City Hall staffers are afraid to talk openly on their phones. Others don’t believe the phones there really were, as was widely reported, tapped. But tell us this: Does the FBI have a taped conversation in which Zucchet asks for cash under the table? Or promises a vote for money? If such evidence does exist, here’s hoping that Zucchet enjoyed his first six months as a public official—as well as the lovely parting gift of a Lompoc honor farm vacation.

There is still the possibility Zucchet, Lewis and Inzunza are not guilty of trading on their offices for favors. Presumption of innocence is the backbone of our legal system. And if the raids in San Diego were fishing expeditions—if there are no indictments, and if the local scene proves to be wildly peripheral to a Las Vegas–centered investigation—then the U.S. Attorney’s office here has a mountain of explaining to do.

The bottom line: We’ll stand and cheer the good guys chasing out the bad guys. But in this powerful morality play, give us clear exposition of what was done, and whodunit.

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