Wrapped in the weighty language of law, it is big, blunt and intimidating: 17 counts, hundreds of thousands of dollars, obstruction of justice, tampering with a witness, mail fraud, wire fraud.
Boiled down, it is also new politics, in the form of federal prosecutors taking sharp aim at the old ways, with one of the most powerful men in the history of the House of Representatives in the bull’s-eye.
The federal grand jury that indicted Rep. Dan Rostenkowski (D-Ill.) Tuesday handed up charges that sounded like an itemization of the way things used to be in Chicago, complete with ghost payrollers, kickbacks, office slush funds and lots of gifts for political supporters and friends.
It portrayed Rostenkowski, 66, as a ward heeler who abused his patronage workers, dipped readily into all kinds of public funds and wasn’t beyond clipping the federal budget to have his lawn mowed or his homes repaired or remodeled.
The indictment said at least one ghost employee kicked back money to Rostenkowski and included the previously unreported charge that he tampered with a federal witness.
The 18-term Chicago Democrat was charged with conspiracy to defraud the government, mail fraud, wire fraud, embezzlement of public funds and concealing a material fact, costing taxpayers at least $660,000 over a roughly 20-year period. If convicted, he could face a long prison term, far in excess of what he rejected in a pro-posed plea bargain agreement.
In announcing the indictment, U.S. Atty. Eric Holder said Rostenkowski “engaged in a pattern of corrupt activity for more than 20 years. . . . This is not, as some have suggested, a petty matter. The allegations contained in today’s indictment represent a betrayal of the public trust for personal gain.”
Rostenkowski has emphatically denied any wrongdoing. He did not comment Tuesday, but a Washington lawyer who represents his political campaign funds, Nancy Luque, said: “There is not one segment of this case that could be characterized as strong. Each segment is eminently beatable.”
Already, there has been a major political consequence: Rostenkowski will have to step down as chairman of the House Ways and Means Committee, although he keeps his seat in Congress and can continue to serve on the committee.
The Ways and Means chairman is among the most important national public officials to face trouble since former House Speaker Jim Wright of Texas was forced from office five years ago in an ethics inquiry. Ironically, many of the charges against Rostenkowski seem more suited to a Cook County political scandal than to the halls of Congress.
Many images emerged in the 49-page indictment, the product of a more than two-year federal investigation: federally paid workers mowing the lawn at Rostenkowski’s Wisconsin vacation home, others picking up his laundry, cleaning his house, taking hundreds of photographs at his daughter’s wedding.
Other images evoked backroom deals, with stamps being passed for cash, as well as an Illinois state senator’s son being placed on Rostenkowski’s payroll and doing no work while the state senator put the congressman’s two daughters on his payroll.
Some of the information in the indictment has been known for months. But there were several surprises and much greater detail than had been previously disclosed. If proven, they would indicate Rostenkowski exercised intricate control over how his federal expense money was spent.
One of the more stunning charges claimed that Rostenkowski tampered with a federal witness.
The indictment alleged that the congressman had placed a congressional patronage worker on his own payroll concurrently for several months to engrave 50 brass plaques and place them on 50 crystal sculptures of the U.S. Capitol. Rostenkowski charged taxpayers for the man’s compensation and for the mementos, although prosecutors said he used them for personal gifts.
Last September, the worker, Harold Wills, was subpoenaed by the grand jury to testify. According to the indictment, Rostenkowski’s longtime administrative assistant, Virginia Fletcher, then put him in touch with a lawyer and said Rostenkowski would pay his legal bills.
She then allegedly told him that Rostenkowski wanted to talk to him. According to the indictment, “Rostenkowski instructed the engraver not to say anything to the grand jury about the crystal sculptures . . .”
Law-enforcement sources said Tuesday they have corroboration that the conversation took place. Holder declined to say whether Wills, or anyone else connected to the case, has been granted immunity from prosecution in return for testifying.
The other surprising disclosure came in a charge that Rostenkowski placed his former son-in-law, Roger Kopacz, on his payroll, and that Kopacz performed no official work but kicked back money to Rostenkowski.
Kopacz received about $10,000 in government payments between December 1989 and April 1990 and “was required to give most of the money to defendant Rostenkowski personally as cash kickbacks,” according to the indictment.
The indictment says that in some instances workers on his payroll cashed their checks at his district office, then received payments in cash amounts that were less than the value of the check.
The allegations that have received the most widespread attention-that Rostenkowski traded stamps for cash through House Postmaster Robert Rota-were repeated in the indictment.
Further, the indictment provided fresh details about accusations that Rostenkowski wrongly took title to vehicles leased with taxpayer money. It charges that Rostenkowski set up a revolving account, similar to a personal department store charge account, at Wil-Shore Motors in Wilmette while filing with the House a certified lease saying he was deriving no personal benefit from the cars.
The most sweeping of the accusations is that Rostenkowski, beginning no later than 1971, had 14 people on his congressional payroll who did little or no public work and that the work they did was personal, ranging from small chores to family bookkeeping, all unrelated to Rostenkowski’s official duties.
One lawyer close to Rostenkowski said the ghost employees testified before the grand jury that they did work; however, a law-enforcement source said at least two of the workers testified that they did no work.
Rostenkowski was required to sign a certified form each month attesting to the work. He did so, but repeatedly left blank the portion of the form that described what work was done and didn’t assign the workers a title.
And he had a highly unusual arrangement at the House Finance Office by having the same payroll clerk for 10 years when rules require that members rotate their clerk every two years.
In all, the indictment charges that Rostenkowski spent $500,000 in federal money since 1971 on 14 so-called ghost employees.
In sum, prosecutors alleged an almost ingrained pattern of corrupt activity by a politician who saw himself as above the rules and law.
Based on the information that has surfaced, perhaps the most difficult charge for Rostenkowski to rebut is that he abused his congressional office account by using taxpayer funds to purchase gifts for friends and political patrons from the House stationery store.
Rostenkowski has previously conceded that he personally ordered some of the purchases and that staff ordered others. In February he repaid just over $82,000 to the federal treasury.
The government’s charge that Rostenkowski traded a total of $21,300 in stamps for cash from his office expense account rises and falls on the testimony of Rota. He pleaded guilty last year to embezzlement in the House Post Office scandal and has claimed that he lied under oath when he testified that he did not know if any House members got cash from the post office.
Rostenkowski’s lawyers would vigorously cross-examine Rota at a trial. In 1979, when a House Post Office employee first went to the FBI with allegations that members were trading stamps for cash, Rota wrongly told investigators that there were no such transactions. He also lied to investigators when the House Post Office scandal first broke.
And while Rostenkowski’s lawyers will argue that Rota struck a deal with prosecutors to save himself, prosecutors will counter that Rota can be trusted.
At least two other lower-level former post office employees are expected to back Rota’s testimony.
Tuesday’s indictment had humble origins. The investigation that would lead to charges against Rostenkowski started April 25, 1991, when Edward Pogue, a stamp clerk, failed to arrive for work after he was told he would be audited because supervisors had noticed cash shortages.
A short time later, police told then U.S. Atty. Jay Stephens about the stamp scandal. The investigation intensified dramatically, and on May 6, 1992, subpoenas were issued for Rostenkowski’s stamps records. Rostenkowski had spent more than $30,000 on stamps in six years, far in excess of what most members spend.
“I mail a lot,” was his clipped explanation.
But the inquiry did not go away. Rostenkowski invoked his right against self-incrimination and refused to testify before the grand jury. But prosecutors and federal investigators continued to examine his finances.
Critics have been dismissive of the prosecutors’ case, calling it petty and arguing that Rostenkowski could have retired two years ago and walked away with $1 million from his political funds had he been motivated by money.
They also contend that Rostenkowski operated by a set of rules forged in another era.
Holder, and a grand jury, disagreed.
“I reject the notion that there is an acceptable level of corruption,” he said.
