Jeffrey Del Fuoco -- who,
depending on the commentator, is either a
courageous crime-fighter or a wildly loose
cannon -- got bad news two weeks ago. A
complaint the federal prosecutor had filed with
the Justice Department's internal affairs unit,
alleging widespread corruption in Tampa's U.S.
Attorney's Office, had been dismissed.
"It was expected," said Del Fuoco's Tampa
lawyer, Craig Huffman. Interpreted: Del Fuoco
hadn't anticipated that the Justice Department
would find that one of its own branches had
undermined its own public corruption cases in
Tampa.
The prosecutor's battle now moves to another
arena. Del Fuoco has filed a companion complaint
with the independent U.S. Office of Special
Counsel, which hears whistleblower allegations
from federal employees. He's represented in the
ongoing Special Counsel process by the hot shot
of Washington, D.C., whistleblower lawyers,
Stephen Kohn.
Still, the decision last month was a serious
blow to Del Fuoco, and it was delivered in a
humiliating manner. Kohn was told by Justice
officials only that a decision had been reached.
To find out thumbs up or thumbs down, Del Fuoco
had to ask his boss, the U.S. Attorney in Tampa,
Paul Perez. Although Perez has refused to
comment on Del Fuoco's case, the fact that Del
Fuoco was forced to come to him hat in hand must
have been sweet comeuppance.
Among those the prosecutor had complained
about was Perez, who is accused repeatedly in
the whistleblower complaint of failing to root
out corruption in the U.S. Attorney's Office.
Perez and his top aides, according to the
whistleblower complaint, "have participated in
slandering … (Del Fuoco) in an effort to punish
him for his reporting of corrupt activity in
this office."
Del Fuoco's Justice Department complaint is
even more scathing. It describes the U.S.
Attorney's Office failure to aggressively pursue
public corruption cases as "a serious breach of
the public trust as well as disloyalty to the
United States."
Law enforcement sources, state and federal,
told the Weekly Planet that the Justice
Department could hardly have ruled for Del
Fuoco. That would have been an admission of vast
wrongdoing by federal prosecutors, and would
have jeopardized scores of criminal cases
handled by the U.S. Attorney's Office in Tampa.
The weight of that office is now arrayed
against Del Fuoco. According to Justice
Department sources, Perez and his top assistants
have been aided behind the scenes by one of the
nation's consummate law enforcement insiders,
Greg Kehoe, the former No. 2 man in Tampa's U.S.
Attorney's Office. Kehoe recently was tapped to
be the lead U.S. adviser in the prosecution of
Saddam Hussein, an incredibly prestigious
mission.
Kehoe denied representing as legal counsel
anyone targeted by Del Fuoco's complaints, but
he tersely refused to discuss his relationship
with the U.S. Attorney's Office.
Del Fuoco, by comparison, is just one guy who
until recently was a respected but only
mid-level G-man. The Philadelphia native has few
roots in Florida, isn't even a member of the
state bar association (federal prosecutors only
have to be a member of a bar somewhere in the
nation). In the inbred world of Tampa law and
politics, that's a real handicap.
And while legions of Tampa lawyers will claim
friendship with the honchos in the U.S.
Attorney's Office, Del Fuoco is a maverick from
whom people now want to distance themselves.
An eight-year veteran of public corruption
probes at Tampa's U.S. Attorney's Office, and
with a long record as a prosecutor before that
in Virginia and New Jersey, Del Fuoco is now
anticipating a move to private practice, his
friends say. He has taken the first step --
applying to take the Florida Bar examination.
But, his friends say, he intends to vindicate
himself first.
Maybe Del Fuoco has been screwed, which would
mean the criminal justice system in Tampa is
corrupt. It's happened before in the Big Guava.
On the other hand, maybe the Justice
Department investigators took an honest look at
Del Fuoco's claims and found them lacking. Mark
Corallo, director of Justice's public affairs
division, says complaints handled by internal
affairs -- dubbed the Office of Professional
Responsibility -- were secret and he couldn't
comment.
Del Fuoco's allegations, although
confidential, have been obtained by the
Planet. Some came from third-party
sources, others from supporters of Del Fuoco.
More than a dozen people, all but one of them
law enforcement officials and officers, provided
information and their opinion for this story.
Del Fuoco's documents refer to but do not name
three (two current and one former) Justice
Department employees who have provided the
Planet with information. Earlier this
year, the FBI demanded that the Planet
reveal its Justice Department sources; the
newspaper refused. Articles from this newspaper
are cited as sources for some of Del Fuoco's
claims.
The allegations in the documents are
stunning, even lurid. Some proof cited by Del
Fuoco is merely his own conjecture. Other
substantiation is hearsay. However, many of his
claims reflect the meticulous research,
record-keeping and ability to connect the dots
of a veteran prosecutor.
The contents of documents obtained by the
Planet include Del Fuoco's Jan. 18
complaint to the Office of Special Counsel and
the Aug. 29, 2003, complaint to Justice's Office
of Professional Responsibility. They also
include supporting materials as well as an April
26 letter from Kohn to U.S. Attorney General
John Ashcroft demanding protection for Del
Fuoco.
Even though Del Fuoco's complaint has been
rejected by one investigative agency, the
Planet is reporting his allegations
because his whistleblower complaint remains
pending. Del Fuoco remains employed as a federal
prosecutor; his observations provide a rare
glimpse into the secretive world of federal law
enforcement. But they are only one side of the
story. Perez and most of the other participants
in the drama refused to comment.
There is one compelling reason to
believe Del Fuoco may be on target: He was
highly successful in prosecuting public
corruption cases before he found himself
attacked by defense lawyers and local law
enforcement officials who were friends of his
bosses. Despite his record of success,
especially convicting 15 corrupt police
officers, Del Fuoco was demoted, humiliated and
reassigned to non-criminal cases. He claims he
faced possible violence, stalking and harassment
-- yet his superiors failed to investigate or to
back him up. Lawyer Kohn describes matters in
his letter to Ashcroft: "The intimidation and
threats facing Mr. Del Fuoco include … the
illegal surveillance of Mr. Del Fuoco and his
family, a death threat against Mr. Del Fuoco,
and retaliatory, on-the-job harassment against
Mr. Del Fuoco."
Del Fuoco, in his internal Justice complaint,
states that the U.S. Attorney's Office "never
did a single, substantial thing to insure that I
or my family was safe until I went public
with revelations of this retaliatory conduct and
threats to our safety."
Del Fuoco's demise and the allegations in his
complaints have intriguing links to some of
Tampa's highest profile cases -- the terrorism
indictment of fired University of South Florida
professor Sami Al-Arian and an investigation of
a whistleblowing state judge, Greg Holder. If
Del Fuoco is a victim of corrupt prosecutors, it
may signal that Holder and Al-Arian owe their
tribulations to political and sinister
machinations in the U.S. Attorney's Office.
Al-Arian has long contended he is the victim
of a political witch-hunt. And, Holder found
himself the target of accusations disseminated
by the U.S. Attorney's Office that he
plagiarized a document. The assault on Holder
occurred after he had angered management at the
U.S. Attorney's Office by complaining that a
federal-state probe of courthouse corruption had
been prematurely abandoned.
There's also a fascinating geographic ground
zero for Del Fuoco's rambling assertions -- an
Irish bar in Hyde Park, Four Green Fields. Del
Fuoco portrays the pub as a hub of conspiracies.
The tavern is partly owned by one of Del Fuoco's
superiors, Robert O'Neill, the assistant U.S.
Attorney in charge of criminal prosecutions.
As the Planet has previously reported,
the bar has hosted fundraisers for an Irish
political party, Sinn Fein, described by the
U.S. State Department as a front for the
terrorist Irish Republican Army. An analogous
situation would be if a federal prosecutor owned
a Middle Eastern cafe that held fund-raising
events for the groups Al-Arian headed,
organizations that are alleged to have fronted
for Palestinian terrorists.
"The obvious point is that O'Neill appears to
have been involved in doing the same thing as
Al-Arian; all at a time when he was supposed to
be investigating Al-Arian," says Del Fuoco in
his Justice Department complaint. "I can think
of several disastrous problems associated with
this, to include defense allegations of
'selective enforcement' for starters."
Del Fuoco asserts that O'Neill has failed to
comply with federal laws and Justice rules
relating to outside activities, including the
Foreign Agents Registration Act, as well as the
law under which Al-Arian was indicted, which
bans material support to designated foreign
terrorist organizations.
Moreover, there's a blatant propriety issue
-- although apparently not so blatant as to
demand action by Perez or his predecessors. Four
Green Fields is popular with the legal crowd,
including defense attorneys. Thus, the lawyers
defending those indicted on federal charges are
pushing money into pockets of O'Neill -- their
ostensible courtroom foe -- by their patronage
of the saloon.
Kehoe is a close friend of O'Neill -- and a
frequent patron of Four Green Fields. That
friendship, according to sources in the Justice
Department, explains Kehoe's intervention on
behalf of the U.S. Attorney's Office and against
Del Fuoco.
Kehoe also represents Barry Colman, a Manatee
County deputy Del Fuoco has charged in a federal
lawsuit with stalking him and his family. Colman
was in the same squad as six deputies convicted
by Del Fuoco on numerous felony charges
including narcotics distribution, perjury and
criminal civil rights violations. Kehoe also
represents Judge Holder in a case before the
Florida Judicial Qualifications Commission
relating to the allegedly plagiarized document.
The heart of Del Fuoco's complaints is
that defense attorneys conspired with his
supervisors to undermine an investigation of
corruption among Plant City cops. And, Del Fuoco
contends his supervisors did nothing to aid and
protect him from alleged stalking and death
threats resulting from his successful conviction
of Manatee County deputies.Sources inside the
U.S. Attorney's Office told the Planet
that the brass expected Del Fuoco to quit in the
face of demotion and humiliation. Instead, he
fought back.
Del Fuoco's nemesis is criminal division
chief O'Neill. According to Del Fuoco, O'Neill
conspired with defense attorneys in the Plant
City police corruption case to undermine the
investigation. After the probe resulted in
convictions of three officers, the lawyers
wanted to squelch the probe before higher
officials were collared.
O'Neill, other Justice officials and defense
lawyers "retaliated because I was successful,"
Del Fuoco says in his complaint to the Justice
Department. "O'Neill … 'crossed the line' and
assisted these attorneys in obstructing and
impeding the investigation in this case."
Those defense attorneys are local
heavy-hitters Ronald Cacciatore and Ed Page, who
also represented one of the Manatee County
deputies targeted by Del Fuoco. "O'Neill … has
succeeded in helping Cacciatore and Page to get
me off the case," Del Fuoco continues. "His
demonstrated and repeated conflicts of interest
evidence a complete disdain for doing what is
right."
The lawyers' tactic was a campaign against
Del Fuoco that included a 17-point complaint
filed in January 2002 with the Justice
Department. The lawyers went public with their
attack, succeeding in getting The Tampa
Tribune to run a May 19, 2002, story with
the headline, "Prosecution or Persecution?" One
of the reporters is identified by Del Fuoco as
"a close personal friend of … O'Neill, who
frequently drank at his bar while in search of a
story, and who invited … O'Neill to her
wedding."
Armand Cotnoir -- a Plant City cop who
admitted corrupt acts and then cooperated in the
federal-state investigation of his colleagues --
said he was assigned to dig up dirt on Del
Fuoco. In a sworn August 2002 affidavit, Cotnoir
said the Cacciatore/Page complaint was supposed
to be "the 'silver bullet' that would stop the
investigation 'in its tracks.'"
Four days after Cacciatore and Page filed
their criticisms of Del Fuoco, he volleyed back
with a complaint to the Florida Bar against the
defense lawyers. A Florida Bar grievance
committee found "no probable cause" to some of
Del Fuoco's claims and ruled that other
allegations weren't matters considered by the
lawyers' association. Del Fuoco contends the
committee's members were "friends of Page."
Page, with the politically powerful and
well-connected Harbour Island firm of Carlton
Fields, had been a member of a similar bar
panel.
The picture painted by Del Fuoco is of cozy
relations involving O'Neill and the defense
attorneys. O'Neill huddled privately with
Cacciatore while one of the Plant City cases was
in trial. Cacciatore, who represented Police
Chief Bill McDaniel, was "only interested in
precluding Cotnoir from testifying against his
other clients, including Mayor (Mike) Sparkman,
who was paying everyone's legal fees," Del Fuoco
alleges.
Cacciatore and Page "like virtually every
other criminal defense attorney in this town
frequent O'Neill's bar," Del Fuoco says in his
Justice complaint.
At Four Green Fields, details of
investigations and tidbits on Del Fuoco's
personal life (he was in the process of a
divorce) were exchanged among his foes,
according to Del Fuoco's complaint, which
concludes: "O'Neill was a co-conspirator with
Cacciatore and Page in the conspiracy to
obstruct justice and impede a federal officer"
-- that is, to get Del Fuoco kicked off the
case.
Cotnoir, in his affidavit, states: "I was
told Mr. Cacciatore and Mr. Page 'hung out' with
other local attorneys, DEA agents and
prosecutors … at a bar in Tampa … where they
supposedly had a number of 'contacts' and
'sources' of information concerning the
investigation." Del Fuoco, in his Justice
Department complaint, adds: "Stunningly, Cotnoir
told me … that a guy by the name of 'Bobby
O'Neill' was the guy inside the bar who was
providing Cacciatore and Page with information
on the case."
Cacciatore, O'Neill and the assistant U.S.
Attorney in charge of professional standards,
Terry Zitek, did not respond to detailed
messages on Del Fuoco's allegations. Perez was
provided with pages from the papers obtained by
the Planet after U.S. Attorney's Office
spokesman Steve Cole indicated that his boss
might comment on specifics in the documents;
however, Perez later demurred.
Page, who represented a Plant City officer
who was suspected of corruption but wasn't
indicted before the probe died, said it was
"absolutely false" that he had participated in
any attempt to undermine Del Fuoco. Del Fuoco's
written complaints describe Page as the "brains"
behind the campaign to get the prosecutor
removed from the Plant City case.
Whether conspiracy, legal tactics or
righteous indignation at an overly aggressive
prosecutor, the defense attorneys succeeded in
October 2002 in ousting Del Fuoco from the
public corruption squad at the U.S. Attorney's
Office.
Even before that, Del Fuoco and his
supervisor, Jeff Downing, were worried the plug
would be pulled on the Plant City probe. In
September, Del Fuoco recounts, "Downing and I
had agreed that we needed to 'fly under the
radar' in an attempt to keep the PCPD (Plant
City Police Department) case alive."
Perez's spokesman, Cole, tried to smother
interest in the unusual situation -- ousting Del
Fuoco from a case where he had won convictions
and was likely to win more. Cole declared on
Dec. 1, 2002, that it was "strictly a routine
move." A few days later, Cole announced that a
more experienced prosecutor, Downing, would take
over the Plant City probe from Del Fuoco.
Downing, said Cole, would "get this
investigation back to right-side up."
Belly up would be a more apt description of
the investigation, which quietly died at the
level of grunt patrolmen. In August 2003,
O'Neill pulled Downing from the Plant City
investigation. O'Neill's assistant took
possession of all of the probe's files. No
Planet City higher-ups would take heat, and the
press quickly lost interest.
A year before O'Neill took over the case,
Sparkman, who is now a Plant City commissioner,
was boasting that the probe was dead and that
"many influential people were in agreement" that
there would be no more indictments, according to
Del Fuoco's complaint with the Justice
Department. That surprised prosecutors and FBI
and local agents -- they were still actively
trying to indict other Plant City cops and
officials.
Del Fuoco contends Sparkman received his
insight due to improper deals and communication
with supervisors in the U.S. Attorney's Office,
specifically O'Neill. "It appeared that Sparkman
… had someone inside the U.S. Attorney's Office
… who was assuring Ronald K. Cacciatore (and
therefore Sparkman …) that there would be no
more indictments," Del Fuoco states in his
Justice complaint.
Sparkman did not return a detailed message
about his actions in the police case.
In the Manatee County case -- where a
half-dozen deputies were convicted on a laundry
list of corruption charges -- Del Fuoco accused
O'Neill of aiding a "good friend," Deputy David
Livingston. "Livingston was suspected of
stealing from subjects … planting drugs … lying
… extortion," Del Fuoco wrote. "O'Neill's
reaction was that Livingston was a 'good guy.'"
O'Neill, due to his relationship with
Livingston, recused himself from the case. But,
according to Del Fuoco, O'Neill "continued to
meddle in the case when he knew he should not
have done so."
(Livingston wasn't indicted during the
federal probe. However, in a related
investigation, he confessed to illegally tapping
a phone, keeping items seized in a drug bust,
letting a prostitute fondle his genitals and
repeatedly leaving the jail grounds while on
duty. He resigned in 2000 but Sheriff Charlie
Wells, a family friend, quietly rehired him last
year.)
Del Fuoco asserts that Manatee County law
enforcement officials stalked, harassed and
threatened him following the successful
prosecution of corrupt deputies. Del Fuoco asked
his supervisors for help. However, according to
his whistleblower complaint, "no 'real'
investigation has occurred because the sheriff
involved has attempted to put political pressure
on (Perez) … in exchange for political
influence."
After Perez refused to provide protection and
support in the Manatee County incident, Del
Fuoco last year filed a federal lawsuit against
Sheriff Wells and two aides. The litigation,
still pending, alleges that the sheriff's office
used law enforcement databases to spy on and
harass Del Fuoco and his family.
Perez and his top aides failed to act, Del
Fuoco charges, for one of three reasons: "They
knew and directed" the campaign against Del
Fuoco. "They were 'willfully blind.'" Or, they
were "being misled" by O'Neill.
Former Weekly Planet editor and
frequent contributor John Sugg can be reached at
404-614-1241 or at john.sugg@cln.com.
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