Locking Up N.J.’s Bad Guys

James W. Treffinger was the political boss of Essex County and one of New Jersey’s most powerful Republicans. When rumors circulated that he might be the target of a federal corruption probe, he scoffed, boasting to an associate that the rookie U.S. attorney wouldn’t know a law book from a cookbook.

Treffinger could not believe that a newcomer like Christopher J. Christie would actually take on New Jersey’s political big shots and crack down on the corruption that has long been a fixture in the Garden State. Critics joked that the fledgling prosecutor had been watching too many episodes of “The Sopranos.”

But no one’s laughing anymore. The U.S. attorney indicted Treffinger on 20 counts of extortion, fraud and conspiracy, and the indignant official was hauled into court in leg irons and handcuffs. Reporters had a field day with his comment about Christie, which was captured on a wiretap, and Treffinger’s political ambitions -- which once included a promising U.S. Senate race -- were in tatters. Now awaiting trial, he denies all charges.

The arrest and humiliation of one of New Jersey’s most influential politicians last year stunned many here. But it was just another day at the office for Christie, who in a little more than 12 months has unexpectedly become one of the nation’s leading anti-corruption crusaders. Defying the conventional wisdom that crooked New Jersey politicians cannot be tamed, the boyish-faced prosecutor has made his mark in a hurry.

“I grew up in New Jersey and I’ve seen it all, but the sheer number of these new cases takes my breath away,” said David Rebovich, director of the Rider Institute for New Jersey Politics. “Many of us hoped the state had moved beyond this, yet now there’s a sense of a roundup going on.”

Christie filed 26 cases against a multitude of officeholders in 2002, more than any other U.S. attorney’s office, and won 17 convictions or guilty pleas. He promises that new indictments will be announced in coming months, but for those New Jersey officials who might be his next targets, the really bad news is that Christie -- a 40-year-old attorney and former GOP fund-raiser who had no prosecutorial experience when President Bush appointed him last year -- seems to be enjoying himself immensely.

He has a budding relationship with Bush, who has nicknamed him “Big Boy” for his ample girth. But more important, the new prosecutor has political independence. In a state where the governor commands unusual power -- appointing all constitutional officers, state judges and many lesser officeholders -- New Jersey’s sole U.S. attorney enjoys a striking degree of autonomy.

“I didn’t anticipate coming in that we would be making this kind of crime a focus,” Christie said recently in his Newark office, which commands sweeping views of Lower Manhattan. “But once I got here, it became clear that the activity involving corruption would be brisk. We’ve been breaking cases almost every other week, and I’m amazed. There is so much of this stuff, everywhere you look.”

Christie, hooking his thumbs in trademark blue suspenders, swivels in a chair and ticks off other priorities, including the fight against terrorists, drug dealers and environmental polluters. But unlike several of his predecessors, he has put New Jersey political corruption at the top of his agenda.

Triggering shock waves from Princeton to Perth Amboy, his office has established a zero tolerance for bribery, extortion and other crimes by politicians, no matter how minor the offense. The news spread fast, because under federal law, public officials found guilty of corruption typically serve much longer prison sentences than those who are convicted in state courts.

Christie has had no shortage of cases to prosecute, experts say, because of New Jersey’s fragmented political structure. Unlike most states, where county and state governments have broad influence over services and public works projects, New Jersey is a conglomeration of about 600 school districts and 556 small municipalities that are fiercely independent and control their own budgets. Many of these fiefdoms grant their own contracts for home construction, roads and sewage facilities, often without competitive bidding.

Given the state’s booming suburban growth, observers say, there are many opportunities for officials to cross the line. Some of them pocket small cash bribes from developers, convinced they will never be found out. In other cases, people shower local politicians with huge campaign contributions in a brazenly open “pay to play” culture of buying access -- and municipal contracts -- in exchange for cash and other personal favors.

The corruption is pervasive, “almost an epidemic,” said Christie, who has been investigating officials from the top rungs of state politics down to obscure power brokers in small New Jersey towns. Besides Treffinger, he has lodged charges against former Hudson County Democratic boss Robert Janiszewski (extortion and tax evasion); Paterson Mayor Martin Barnes (mail fraud and tax evasion); former Newark Mayor Kenneth Gibson (filing a false tax return); and former Ocean Township Mayor and Asbury Park City Manger Terrance Weldon (bribery and extortion).

A fair percentage of the anti-corruption investigations were launched by the previous U.S. attorney, Robert Cleary, and Christie’s staff acknowledges that many of the higher-profile cases were developed years ago. However, the current U.S. attorney has been the one who actually brought the charges and, in most cases, won the crucial convictions.

Although Christie seemed to have little background for this task when first appointed, he had an unforgettable brush with political corruption at an early age. As a high school senior class president in Irvington, N.J., he went to Washington for a week in 1980 to study the federal government along with other members of a national youth program run by the William Randolph Hearst Foundation.

Assigned to spend time with Sen. Harrison Williams of New Jersey, Christie was stunned when the highly respected politician -- on the very first morning of the program -- was indicted for his role in the Abscam bribery sting.

“It was so hugely embarrassing,” Christie recalled, “because here was a guy held in such high esteem by so many people and he turned out to be a crook. I spent the rest of the week defending New Jersey against jokes and insults made by other students, and the experience stayed with me my entire life. You think someone is a pillar of the community, but then suddenly the truth comes out and they’re hauled away.”

After finishing law school at Seton Hall, Christie ran unsuccessfully for the state Senate before getting elected as a freeholder -- or elected county official -- in Morris County, N.J., where he helped push through a tough ethics code. He was later voted out of office and became a successful securities and bond attorney, living with his wife and three children in suburban Mendham, N.J. But his political star began rising when he helped raise $350,000 for George W. Bush’s 2000 presidential campaign and also served as the candidate’s legal counsel in New Jersey.

“I realize I was not a unanimous pick for this [U.S. attorney’s] job,” he joked, recalling initial complaints that he didn’t have enough prosecutorial experience and would not be truly independent. His track record speaks for itself, Christie added, noting that he has targeted prominent Republicans as well as Democrats.

It remains to be seen, however, whether his efforts will create lasting change. New Jersey, after all, is the home of former Democratic Sen. Robert Torricelli, who was the most prominent politician to fall last year. But he was merely the latest in a long line of politicians to leave office under an ethical cloud.

“You can’t steal much as a congressman, but you can make a million dollars as a mayor,” Newark’s notoriously corrupt Mayor Hugh Addonizio once boasted. He must have been referring to Jersey City’s equally corrupt Mayor Frank Hague, who never made more than $7,500 annually but left behind an estate worth $10 million.

Herbert Stern, who was U.S. attorney here in the early 1970s and later a federal judge, said New Jersey’s political corruption is no worse than in other states. But when asked to describe his chief accomplishments in office from 1970 to 1973, Stern chuckled as he answered: “Let’s see, we prosecuted eight mayors, two secretary of states, two state treasurers, a U.S. congressman, two very powerful state political bosses and, I think, some 64 other public officials. I guess you could say that’s a lot.”

Given such history, New Jerseyans can’t be blamed for thinking that corruption is unavoidable. In 1981 and 1998 surveys by the Eagleton-Rutgers poll, a majority said half of local politicians were corrupt. But they also believed their local officials were not tainted and that New Jersey’s problems were hardly unique.

“I think that people kind of take it in stride,” said Monica McDermott, acting poll director. “It’s not that they don’t care about it, but there’s a point at which they get used to seeing it. People seem to think it’s a normal fact of life in New Jersey.”

But even the most jaded observers were surprised by the number of small-town politicians caught up in Christie’s crackdown last year.

“This is where the lion’s share of it takes place, because there are fewer checks and balances on the local level of government,” Christie explained. “You have mayors and other officials in New Jersey with broad discretion to give contracts, often without any bids. You have many governmental bodies, all with big pots of money to spend.”

As new subdivisions, roads and shopping centers spring up across the state, there are more opportunities for ethically challenged local officials to “turn the corner, to cross the line” and either accept or solicit bribes, he said. And the psychological pressures that cause someone to travel down this path are distressingly common.

“We’ve seen so many cases where an official has been approving contracts for years that make developers, highway construction firms and other people quite rich,” he said. “And then, one day, this person asks: ‘What’s in it for me?’ ”

That’s what happened to Janiszewski, a powerful Democratic official in Hudson County who was thought to have a bright future in party politics. But he was caught accepting a developer’s $5,000 cash bribe at an Atlantic City hotel by FBI agents who burst into the room minutes after their hidden camera recorded the transaction. Janiszewski later agreed to wear a wire, helping build corruption cases against other officials.

When he pleaded guilty to extortion and tax evasion in August, the former party boss was asked by U.S. District Judge Joel A. Pisano why he took the money.

“I would think I just made a very serious error in judgment over time,” said Janiszewski, who had collectively pocketed $100,000 in bribes before he was caught. “I had turned away many attempts, many approaches and this time I just didn’t.”

Other officials have fought back, angrily proclaiming their innocence and denouncing Christie for being overzealous. After he was arrested in October, Treffinger accused the U.S. attorney of staging a media stunt. Meanwhile, Christie’s office released additional statements that Treffinger made in wiretapped conversations.

The GOP leader and lawyer had told another associate, for example, that any legal problems they had would quickly disappear if he, Treffinger, were appointed New Jersey’s next U.S. attorney -- a possibility that had not been widely discussed to that point. “All this becomes moot if I get to be made the U.S. attorney,” he said in another wiretapped conversation, because “there are plenty of mobsters to go after. You don’t have to go after all these poor politicians trying to ply their trade.”

Terrance D. Weldon had similar thoughts in Asbury Park, believing he could shake down developers without getting caught, and his fall has even Christie shaking his head. The most puzzling stories, he says, are those where an official who has it all tries to steal some more.

Weldon, a community leader and former Asbury Park fire chief, helped craft a sweeping redevelopment plan for the shabby, deteriorating beach town made famous by Bruce Springsteen. Weldon was simultaneously the town’s city manager and the mayor of nearby Ocean Township, hugely respected in both communities.

Pleased with Weldon’s plan, Asbury Park council members rewarded him with a three-year contract. But minutes after they approved a preliminary version of the redevelopment plan, Weldon made a shocking announcement: He had accepted bribes in Ocean Township and was resigning his posts in both cities immediately.

According to prosecutors, Weldon accepted three bribes totaling $64,000 from developers seeking approval for housing construction near the Jersey shore.

In one case, he had taken $3,000 from a developer and then sought an additional $2,000, explaining that his family was going on vacation and needed cash.

When federal agents raided his home, they found $50,000 stuffed in the vest pocket of a jacket hanging in his attic. Weldon agreed to plead guilty, though he is not cooperating with authorities, and will face up to 20 years in prison when he is sentenced later this month.

The Asbury Park case, Christie said, is distressingly typical of many local corruption stories.

“They all remind me of an old saying -- that you can judge somebody’s character by what they do when they think that nobody else is watching,” he said. “We have to change that mind-set here in New Jersey, and tell politicians that when we catch them they won’t be getting their wrists slapped. They’re going to jail.”