With Our D.A., Who Needs ‘Survivor’?

You expect a district attorney to slug it out with the defense bar; that’s the job. Nor is it surprising when the D.A. butts heads with community groups or, heaven forbid, the press.

It goes with the territory, and if the D.A. knows what he’s doing, he survives those skirmishes and lives to get reelected.

If he doesn’t know what he’s doing . . . well, the world is full of ex-district attorneys.

But the one fight I’d advise a district attorney never to pick is with his own staff. Civil wars can be very uncivil.

Which makes me wonder whether Orange County Dist. Atty. Tony Rackauckas knows exactly what he’s doing, or if he’s got a political death wish.

What stirs the juices is that it’s one or the other.

For reasons solely of his own making, Rackauckas has chosen to rile up at least a couple of veteran investigators--and who knows how many other attorneys in his vast domain.

You don’t do that unless you’re really sure of yourself, or completely out to sea.

The drama is a work in progress. The plot line established so far is that Patrick DiCarlo, a friend and generous political contributor of Rackauckas’, came to him last year and said he was being extorted by Mafia figures.

Most people would go to the police with something like that, but when you know the district attorney on a first-name basis, maybe that’s where you go.

Once approached, Rackauckas gave the case to investigators in his organized-crime unit. A wiser head might have shopped it elsewhere, but given that Rackauckas chose to keep the matter in-house, the next most obvious thing to do would have been to then distance himself from the investigation.

Instead, Rackauckas got a little hands-on. After a few weeks, he pulled the investigators off the case, saying they were treating DiCarlo like a suspect.

One logically figures that happened after Mr. DiCarlo broached the subject with Mr. Rackauckas. Don’t you wish you had a friend like Mr. Rackauckas?

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There’s precedent for a district attorney pulling investigators off a case involving a friend, but they usually don’t hit the newspapers. It happens privately, and if the investigators ever hope to work in this town again, they go mum about it.

Except that word of such things circulates among the recesses of the D.A.’s office, and that’s where the trouble starts. That’s when professional lawyers and investigators begin choosing sides.

That’s where things stand now. Rackauckas has upped the ante by suspending the investigators and alleging they stole evidence relating to their aborted investigation. The state attorney general’s office will look into that.

It’s hard to tell who the good guys or bad guys are, although those roles definitely will be assigned down the road.

Did Rackauckas ride to the rescue of a harassed local businessman and save him from heavy-handed tactics of two renegade investigators?

Could be.

Or did Rackauckas intervene much too much in his friend’s situation--a friend who had been investigated but never charged by the D.A.’s office before Rackauckas’s election in 1998?

Sure looks like it.

Rackauckas will either win or lose this one, because he knows what the public seldom thinks about--that district attorney offices are political arenas.

A former Orange County deputy district attorney says the danger Rackauckas faces is that investigators--as well as other attorneys--know where all the bodies are buried in political offices.

Usually it goes against “their basic sensibility” to air such things in public, the former deputy said. When I asked why Rackauckas would be inviting such a confrontation, the former deputy said, “I think what he’s doing is ‘the best defense is a good offense.’ He’s pushing it off on these people for stealing evidence. They may have, but that doesn’t change the issue of whether he’s in bed with DiCarlo.”

Knowing this story will have a socko finish, we can wait.

Surely, however, the district attorney wouldn’t invite all this trouble unless he knew exactly what he was doing.

Would he?

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Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Readers may reach Parsons by calling (714) 966-7821, by writing to him at The Times’ Orange County edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or by e-mail to dana.parsons@latimes.com.