After a week off, jurors went back to work at Chicago's biggest mob trial in years Thursday, and the judge refused to poll them on whether news stories may have biased them.
U.S. District Judge James B. Zagel said it would be a mistake to treat jurors "as if they were some delicate object that must be encased in glass" and that he had reviewed recent news stories and saw no problems. "The system is that we trust the jurors unless we have some definitive evidence that that trust is not justified," Zagel said.
The five defendants already have been convicted by the jury of taking part in a racketeering conspiracy that involved illegal gambling, extortion, loan sharking and 18 murders that went unsolved for decades.
Among the victims was Tony "The Ant" Spilotro, long the mob's man in Las Vegas and the inspiration for Joe Pesci's character in the movie "Casino." He and brother Michael Spilotro were beaten to death and buried in an Indiana cornfield in June 1986.
Other victims were strangled, beaten and shot to keep them from leaking secrets to the FBI, according to witnesses at the 10-week Operation Family Secrets trial.
The jury now is deciding what, if any, individual responsibility four of the defendants have in specific murders that are listed in the indictment. Only one of the defendants, retired Chicago policeman Anthony Doyle, 62, is not accused of taking part in any of the murders.
The other defendants are James Marcello, 65, Frank Calabrese Sr., 70, Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo, 78, and Paul Schiro, 70. Each faces a maximum sentence of life in prison if he is found responsible for any of the murders.
Marcello has been described by prosecutors as a major figure in the mob. Calabrese was previously convicted of loan sharking, Lombardo of conspiring to bribe a senator and Schiro of being part of a jewel theft ring headed by Chicago police department's former chief of detectives.
All the defendants except Doyle have been in custody for more than a year. Doyle was taken into custody after he was found guilty on the racketeering conspiracy charge and now is being held in the Metropolitan Correctional Center, a block from the courthouse.
Zagel said Thursday that he would consider a defense request to free Doyle on bond pending sentencing, but not until after the jury reaches its decision on whether Calabrese was responsible for murder.
Prosecutors say the husky, broad-shouldered Doyle was a collector for Calabrese's loan sharking business while also working as a police officer. The government also has videotapes of Doyle visiting Calabrese in prison and discussing what prosecutors describe as a mob murder investigation.
Zagel said Wednesday he thought the deliberations might go on for a long time, but on Thursday indicated he was as much in the dark as anyone. He said the jurors have sent no signal to him on how they are progressing. "When the jury hasn't said anything that could mean in the next 10 minutes or the next 10 days," Zagel said.
Thanks to Mike Robinson
Friday, September 21, 2007
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Delay in Jury Delibertations Should Be Minimal Say Legal Experts
A defense attorney at Chicago's biggest mob trial in years said Friday he is unhappy about a delay in jury deliberations, but experts suggested its impact on the case is likely to be minimal.
Professor James B. Jacobs of New York University School of Law said in a telephone interview that "trial judges have a great deal of leeway in managing their juries and granting delays and adjournments."
"Sometimes a juror gets sick and they suspend jury deliberations," he said. "I can say for sure that it's not automatically impermissible. Does it raise an issue in the event that the defendants are convicted? Sure."
He said defense attorneys might be able to argue the delay prejudiced jurors "because it broke the flow of the discussions or increased the risk the jurors might discuss the case" with outsiders. "But I think the presumption is that the management of the trial is properly up to the trial judge," he added.
Professor John R. Kroger of Lewis and Clark Law School in Portland, Ore., who as a federal prosecutor handled organized crime cases, said trial adjournments are common enough but "it's a little unusual for jury deliberations to be adjourned."
Some judges who must leave during jury deliberations arrange for another judge in the same courthouse to handle any matters that arise.
"I don't know why the judge chose not to go that route here," Kroger said. But he suggested defense attorneys' protests might yield little.
"I doubt there's any real appellate issue there as long as the judge ensures when the jury returns that they haven't been discussing the case during the adjournment and that they haven't been following media reports," he said. "In that case there should be no problem with them returning after a week off."
Lombardo and three co-defendants could face life sentences if jurors find them responsible for specific murders. The fifth defendant convicted, retired Chicago police officer Anthony Doyle, is not accused of directly taking part in any of the murders.
If the jurors do not find the four defendants responsible for specific murders, they still face 20-year maximum sentences on for racketeering and some who were convicted of other offenses such as obstruction of justice, tax fraud and gambling could be subject to more time.
Thanks to Mike Robinson
Professor James B. Jacobs of New York University School of Law said in a telephone interview that "trial judges have a great deal of leeway in managing their juries and granting delays and adjournments."
"Sometimes a juror gets sick and they suspend jury deliberations," he said. "I can say for sure that it's not automatically impermissible. Does it raise an issue in the event that the defendants are convicted? Sure."
He said defense attorneys might be able to argue the delay prejudiced jurors "because it broke the flow of the discussions or increased the risk the jurors might discuss the case" with outsiders. "But I think the presumption is that the management of the trial is properly up to the trial judge," he added.
Professor John R. Kroger of Lewis and Clark Law School in Portland, Ore., who as a federal prosecutor handled organized crime cases, said trial adjournments are common enough but "it's a little unusual for jury deliberations to be adjourned."
Some judges who must leave during jury deliberations arrange for another judge in the same courthouse to handle any matters that arise.
"I don't know why the judge chose not to go that route here," Kroger said. But he suggested defense attorneys' protests might yield little.
"I doubt there's any real appellate issue there as long as the judge ensures when the jury returns that they haven't been discussing the case during the adjournment and that they haven't been following media reports," he said. "In that case there should be no problem with them returning after a week off."
Lombardo and three co-defendants could face life sentences if jurors find them responsible for specific murders. The fifth defendant convicted, retired Chicago police officer Anthony Doyle, is not accused of directly taking part in any of the murders.
If the jurors do not find the four defendants responsible for specific murders, they still face 20-year maximum sentences on for racketeering and some who were convicted of other offenses such as obstruction of justice, tax fraud and gambling could be subject to more time.
Thanks to Mike Robinson
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
It Can't Be Whitey
If that's Whitey Bulger, I'll eat my scally cap.
Our favorite fugitive serial-killer-cum-FBI-informant, Whitey - Jimmy, to you - has been on the lam for 12 years, and it has become an article of faith that every couple of years the FBI trots out somebody saying they almost caught their former stool pigeon.
The latest story is great stuff altogether because it comes with video.
Better yet, it comes with all sorts of undeniable plausibilities.
Can't be Whitey. Too much hair. And Whitey's too vain to put on all that weight.
Ah, but isn't that a perfect disguise?
Can't be Whitey. He wouldn't go to Sicily because his erstwhile criminal associates in the Mafia would find and kill him.
Ah, but isn't that just what our Jimmy, who spent all those years in Alcatraz studying counterintelligence, would do? Hide among the enemy and they won't look for you.
The latest installment of "Is That Whitey?" has provoked the wrong question. The real question is, "Is That Cathy?"
Cathy Greig, Whitey's moll, would be 56. The woman in the pictures looks a lot older than that. Whitey spent his entire life with women who looked like his daughters, and now we're supposed to believe he's spending the winter of his years with someone who looks like Barbara Bush? That doesn't sound like our Jimmy. Besides, Cathy had a ton of plastic surgery before she and Whitey hit the road. Guess who paid for it?
As for Whitey fearing La Cosa Nostra, his long, eventually obvious association with the FBI suggests he did not consider his LCN goombahs to be the brightest bulbs. Whitey hung around for seven years after the Globe's Spotlight Team exposed him as a rat for the FBI, so he had concluded that the local franchise of the LCN was either too stupid or too incompetent to kill him.
If they couldn't or wouldn't kill him in Quincy, why would he fear them in Sicily, where the dons have a lot more to worry about than exacting revenge against some low-rent Irish gangster who gave up Larry Baoine's barbooth game in Lowell? The Mafia hasn't been able to kill even a fraction of its own members who have violated the code of omerta, which translates from the Italian to "I ain't doin' time."
Still, if it was Whitey, you've got to appreciate his sense of irony in selecting Taormina as the place for him and Cathy to dress up and play Ozzie and Harriet on vacation.
Taormina was the name of the restaurant in New York's Little Italy where the Teflon Don, John Gotti, used to hang out. The payphone at Taormina had a sign that said "WARNING - THIS PHONE IS BUGGED."
Who needs bugs when you've got rats? Whitey always loved sticking it to the Italians.
Pat Nee and Howie Winter, who besides being retired gangsters are standup guys, told the Globe's Shelley Murphy they're convinced the fellow in the photos is not Whitey.
Chip Fleming, who used to work intelligence for the Boston police, and who knew Whitey as well as anyone, doesn't think it was, either.
That's good enough for me. But there are state cops and DEA agents, who really want to catch this guy, who think it is.
This whole episode shows just how much of a secular society we have become. It used to be, every few years, some peasant in some Third World hamlet would see an apparition of Jesus or the Virgin Mary. Now we have Whitey sightings every few years. But - did you notice? - none of the Whitey sightings are in places you'd never want to go.
Jimmy, if you're reading this online somewhere, take some friendly advice: Head for Montenegro. The wine is cheap, the beaches are spectacular, you can buy the local cops with a case of beer, and, trust me, no one will come looking for you, because the airport at Podgorica is a dump.
Thanks to Kevin Cullen
Our favorite fugitive serial-killer-cum-FBI-informant, Whitey - Jimmy, to you - has been on the lam for 12 years, and it has become an article of faith that every couple of years the FBI trots out somebody saying they almost caught their former stool pigeon.
The latest story is great stuff altogether because it comes with video.
Better yet, it comes with all sorts of undeniable plausibilities.
Can't be Whitey. Too much hair. And Whitey's too vain to put on all that weight.
Ah, but isn't that a perfect disguise?
Can't be Whitey. He wouldn't go to Sicily because his erstwhile criminal associates in the Mafia would find and kill him.
Ah, but isn't that just what our Jimmy, who spent all those years in Alcatraz studying counterintelligence, would do? Hide among the enemy and they won't look for you.
The latest installment of "Is That Whitey?" has provoked the wrong question. The real question is, "Is That Cathy?"
Cathy Greig, Whitey's moll, would be 56. The woman in the pictures looks a lot older than that. Whitey spent his entire life with women who looked like his daughters, and now we're supposed to believe he's spending the winter of his years with someone who looks like Barbara Bush? That doesn't sound like our Jimmy. Besides, Cathy had a ton of plastic surgery before she and Whitey hit the road. Guess who paid for it?
As for Whitey fearing La Cosa Nostra, his long, eventually obvious association with the FBI suggests he did not consider his LCN goombahs to be the brightest bulbs. Whitey hung around for seven years after the Globe's Spotlight Team exposed him as a rat for the FBI, so he had concluded that the local franchise of the LCN was either too stupid or too incompetent to kill him.
If they couldn't or wouldn't kill him in Quincy, why would he fear them in Sicily, where the dons have a lot more to worry about than exacting revenge against some low-rent Irish gangster who gave up Larry Baoine's barbooth game in Lowell? The Mafia hasn't been able to kill even a fraction of its own members who have violated the code of omerta, which translates from the Italian to "I ain't doin' time."
Still, if it was Whitey, you've got to appreciate his sense of irony in selecting Taormina as the place for him and Cathy to dress up and play Ozzie and Harriet on vacation.
Taormina was the name of the restaurant in New York's Little Italy where the Teflon Don, John Gotti, used to hang out. The payphone at Taormina had a sign that said "WARNING - THIS PHONE IS BUGGED."
Who needs bugs when you've got rats? Whitey always loved sticking it to the Italians.
Pat Nee and Howie Winter, who besides being retired gangsters are standup guys, told the Globe's Shelley Murphy they're convinced the fellow in the photos is not Whitey.
Chip Fleming, who used to work intelligence for the Boston police, and who knew Whitey as well as anyone, doesn't think it was, either.
That's good enough for me. But there are state cops and DEA agents, who really want to catch this guy, who think it is.
This whole episode shows just how much of a secular society we have become. It used to be, every few years, some peasant in some Third World hamlet would see an apparition of Jesus or the Virgin Mary. Now we have Whitey sightings every few years. But - did you notice? - none of the Whitey sightings are in places you'd never want to go.
Jimmy, if you're reading this online somewhere, take some friendly advice: Head for Montenegro. The wine is cheap, the beaches are spectacular, you can buy the local cops with a case of beer, and, trust me, no one will come looking for you, because the airport at Podgorica is a dump.
Thanks to Kevin Cullen
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Connectiing the Dots with Chicago Clout
In 1999, Mayor Richard Daley met with close advisers at City Hall to discuss a favorite project, a plan to build dozens upon dozens of expensive single-family homes along the Chicago River in his ancestral 11th Ward, in what is now the troubled Bridgeport Village development.
Also at the meeting were mayoral strategist Tim Degnan, considered the fifth Daley brother, and Degnan business associate and 11th Ward developer Thomas DiPiazza, according to court documents and Tribune reports. But before and after that meeting with the mayor, according to public records in Illinois and Florida, DiPiazza was also engaged in a series of other, separate real estate transactions with a Bridgeport fixture known as Rayjo.
That's what he's called in Bridgeport, in Chinatown, on Rush Street and at the federal building, by prosecutors and the FBI. He's well known in these circles.
His formal name is Raymond John Tominello.
Tominello, 67, is considered a mathematical genius. He was convicted in 1989 of running the Chicago Outfit's illegal sports book operation under the supervision of the legendary Donald "The Wizard of Odds" Angelini and Dominic Cortina.
In 1989, Angelini, Cortina and Tominello all pleaded guilty, a week after their indictment on federal racketeering charges. Tominello served less than a year in federal prison. Angelini and Cortina have since died. But Rayjo still thrives, at least in real estate.
What does this tell us? That DiPiazza, who gets into meetings with the mayor about one of the most important developments in Bridgeport in years, has a mobbed-up business associate.
Of course the mayor will say he didn't know about it. And that may be true. He might not have ever heard the name Rayjo in his entire life, even though they're about the same age and grew up in the same neighborhood. Can't coincidences happen in Chicago?
DiPiazza's attorney Mark Kralovec said last week that Tominello had worked for DiPiazza years ago, but that Tominello no longer works with DiPiazza's business.
Conrad Duncker, real estate attorney in Tominello's deals with DiPiazza and DiPiazza's partner, Richard Ferro, declined to comment.
"I really can't answer any questions. Have a good day sir," said Duncker, before hanging up the phone. Tominello did not respond to repeated attempts to contact him, through his attorneys and at his homes. That's too bad. It would have been nice to hear how he transformed his life, from Outfit bookie to Mr. Real Estate with Tommy D.
Investing in real estate with guys who know Mayor Daley isn't a crime, not even for a bookie. Understanding Chicago doesn't come by reading official press releases, but by reading the tracks of exotic creatures in public records.
"Rayjo was an integral part of the Cortina/Angelini combine," Chicago Crime Commission President James Wagner, the former longtime FBI supervisor, told me last week. "He hasn't been convicted of anything lately, but back then, Rayjo was considered to be one of them, not a lowly worker, but a manager, with talent and some ambition to move up. You're talking about a lot of money."
Just weeks before Tominello was indicted, he, Ferro and DiPiazza were listed on a commercial loan filing statement with the Illinois secretary of state's office for a continuation of an undetermined business loan. And a couple of years after Tominello's prison stint, in 1992, records show that a trust all three were involved in sold a large tract of commercial/industrial property at 300 W. 83rd Street, to the Chicago Board of Education for nearly $900,000. A portion of that property now serves as open space across the street from Simeon Career Academy.
In 1998 -- a year before DiPiazza met with Daley about Bridgeport Village -- DiPiazza's company sold a house to Tominello at 2806 S. Shields Ave., down the street from the neighborhood social center, the Italian American Club.
Next door to Tominello, DiPiazza deeded a lot to the family of Joseph "Shorty" LaMantia, county records show. LaMantia was assuming control of the Chicago Outfit's Chinatown Crew that runs Bridgeport. And for the next five years, according to tax records, tax bills for the Tominello house on Shields were addressed to Ferro-DiPiazza, but with a catch. They were mailed to Tominello's home. But Rayjo's home isn't officially the Ferro-DiPiazza offices. That office is at 3611 S. Normal Ave. Perhaps Tominello forgot to put his name on his taxes.
A similar thing happened on a Tominello investment property on Archer Avenue purchased in 1997. On the deed, the mailing address was listed at Ferro-DiPiazza. City building inspectors in 2000 found several code violations. The violation notices were sent to Ferro-DiPiazza on Normal, not to Tominello's home on Shields.
In 2003, DiPiazza sold a home on Marco Island, Fla., to Tominello for $300,000, not counting sunscreen.
Rayjo isn't the only smart guy DiPiazza knows. DiPiazza and another friend of Degnan's, the mayoral fashionista/waste-hauling king Fred Bruno Barbara, are also investors in the pricey real estate that houses the famous Tavern on Rush restaurant in the city's historic Viagra Triangle at Bellevue and Rush.
Degnan is close to both men.
Decades ago, in a Tribune story, Degnan publicly admitted to a serious gambling problem, saying in 1969 he owed $82,000 in gambling debts. In today's dollars, that comes to $459,000, a huge chunk for a young man back then. I haven't heard about Degnan gambling a dime lately, unless you count his wife getting magically clouted in as an investor in that Rosemont casino deal.
There's nothing illegal in all this real estate investing, as far as I can tell. These are puzzle pieces, coming together, revealing a little known feature of City Hall's infrastructure.
I asked Jim Wagner if he was surprised that DiPiazza, with his City Hall clout, meeting with the mayor and so on, would be involved in deals with Rayjo.
"No," Wagner said.
Of course not. This is Chicago.
Thanks to John Kass
Also at the meeting were mayoral strategist Tim Degnan, considered the fifth Daley brother, and Degnan business associate and 11th Ward developer Thomas DiPiazza, according to court documents and Tribune reports. But before and after that meeting with the mayor, according to public records in Illinois and Florida, DiPiazza was also engaged in a series of other, separate real estate transactions with a Bridgeport fixture known as Rayjo.
That's what he's called in Bridgeport, in Chinatown, on Rush Street and at the federal building, by prosecutors and the FBI. He's well known in these circles.
His formal name is Raymond John Tominello.
Tominello, 67, is considered a mathematical genius. He was convicted in 1989 of running the Chicago Outfit's illegal sports book operation under the supervision of the legendary Donald "The Wizard of Odds" Angelini and Dominic Cortina.
In 1989, Angelini, Cortina and Tominello all pleaded guilty, a week after their indictment on federal racketeering charges. Tominello served less than a year in federal prison. Angelini and Cortina have since died. But Rayjo still thrives, at least in real estate.
What does this tell us? That DiPiazza, who gets into meetings with the mayor about one of the most important developments in Bridgeport in years, has a mobbed-up business associate.
Of course the mayor will say he didn't know about it. And that may be true. He might not have ever heard the name Rayjo in his entire life, even though they're about the same age and grew up in the same neighborhood. Can't coincidences happen in Chicago?
DiPiazza's attorney Mark Kralovec said last week that Tominello had worked for DiPiazza years ago, but that Tominello no longer works with DiPiazza's business.
Conrad Duncker, real estate attorney in Tominello's deals with DiPiazza and DiPiazza's partner, Richard Ferro, declined to comment.
"I really can't answer any questions. Have a good day sir," said Duncker, before hanging up the phone. Tominello did not respond to repeated attempts to contact him, through his attorneys and at his homes. That's too bad. It would have been nice to hear how he transformed his life, from Outfit bookie to Mr. Real Estate with Tommy D.
Investing in real estate with guys who know Mayor Daley isn't a crime, not even for a bookie. Understanding Chicago doesn't come by reading official press releases, but by reading the tracks of exotic creatures in public records.
"Rayjo was an integral part of the Cortina/Angelini combine," Chicago Crime Commission President James Wagner, the former longtime FBI supervisor, told me last week. "He hasn't been convicted of anything lately, but back then, Rayjo was considered to be one of them, not a lowly worker, but a manager, with talent and some ambition to move up. You're talking about a lot of money."
Just weeks before Tominello was indicted, he, Ferro and DiPiazza were listed on a commercial loan filing statement with the Illinois secretary of state's office for a continuation of an undetermined business loan. And a couple of years after Tominello's prison stint, in 1992, records show that a trust all three were involved in sold a large tract of commercial/industrial property at 300 W. 83rd Street, to the Chicago Board of Education for nearly $900,000. A portion of that property now serves as open space across the street from Simeon Career Academy.
In 1998 -- a year before DiPiazza met with Daley about Bridgeport Village -- DiPiazza's company sold a house to Tominello at 2806 S. Shields Ave., down the street from the neighborhood social center, the Italian American Club.
Next door to Tominello, DiPiazza deeded a lot to the family of Joseph "Shorty" LaMantia, county records show. LaMantia was assuming control of the Chicago Outfit's Chinatown Crew that runs Bridgeport. And for the next five years, according to tax records, tax bills for the Tominello house on Shields were addressed to Ferro-DiPiazza, but with a catch. They were mailed to Tominello's home. But Rayjo's home isn't officially the Ferro-DiPiazza offices. That office is at 3611 S. Normal Ave. Perhaps Tominello forgot to put his name on his taxes.
A similar thing happened on a Tominello investment property on Archer Avenue purchased in 1997. On the deed, the mailing address was listed at Ferro-DiPiazza. City building inspectors in 2000 found several code violations. The violation notices were sent to Ferro-DiPiazza on Normal, not to Tominello's home on Shields.
In 2003, DiPiazza sold a home on Marco Island, Fla., to Tominello for $300,000, not counting sunscreen.
Rayjo isn't the only smart guy DiPiazza knows. DiPiazza and another friend of Degnan's, the mayoral fashionista/waste-hauling king Fred Bruno Barbara, are also investors in the pricey real estate that houses the famous Tavern on Rush restaurant in the city's historic Viagra Triangle at Bellevue and Rush.
Degnan is close to both men.
Decades ago, in a Tribune story, Degnan publicly admitted to a serious gambling problem, saying in 1969 he owed $82,000 in gambling debts. In today's dollars, that comes to $459,000, a huge chunk for a young man back then. I haven't heard about Degnan gambling a dime lately, unless you count his wife getting magically clouted in as an investor in that Rosemont casino deal.
There's nothing illegal in all this real estate investing, as far as I can tell. These are puzzle pieces, coming together, revealing a little known feature of City Hall's infrastructure.
I asked Jim Wagner if he was surprised that DiPiazza, with his City Hall clout, meeting with the mayor and so on, would be involved in deals with Rayjo.
"No," Wagner said.
Of course not. This is Chicago.
Thanks to John Kass
Concerns Expressed by Chicago Crime Commission Regarding Proposed Expansion of Gambling
The Chicago Crime Commission 
notes that the Illinois Senators and Representatives have again discussed legislative proposals to expand gaming in Illinois. The proposals include new gaming licenses for new casinos, including the City of Chicago, as well as the installation of slot machines at Illinois horse race tracks. However, the proposals do not appear to address the responsibility for suitability investigations to be conducted by the Illinois Gaming Board (IGB) on potential investors in these new gambling operations.
The IGB, as presently staffed, has experienced difficulty in timely reviewing applications for investments and conducting thorough background investigations. The IGB has never had sufficient staffing to routinely review all vendor contracts regardless of the service provided. The budget restrictions imposed by the State have, in the past, left the IGB staff with concerns about appropriate due diligence or comprehensive background investigations over all aspects of gaming. Adding new casino licenses and slot machines at horse race tracks would, potentially, completely overwhelm the ability of the IGB to provide complete, competent and independent oersight of the industry.
Arguments have previously been made that increasing the budget of the IGB in order to increase the staff and improve their ability to investigate and monitor the gaming industry would cost too much. The answer to this problem could be found in the gaming control operations in both Nevada and New Jersey. Both states require companies and individuals to pay a set amount before an investigation is initiated and to continue to finance the costs of each investigation, without any input or influence on the quality or extent of that investigation. Refusal to pay ends the licensing process. Each Illinois casino location could also be required to pay for the cost of IGB Agents who are required by law to be on-site during gaming activity, but who should be present at all times the casinos are open. This system would take the burden of the cost of the due diligence investigative process off of the State and place it on an industry that generates significant profits to the owners. This would not remove the need for a State budget for the overall operation of the IGB, but the primary costs would be shifted to the companies and individuals that benefit the most from the privilege of owning and operating gaming facilities in Illinois.
This system to increase the size of the staff of the IGB would also be much preferable to any proposed "out-sourcing" of this responsibility to private companies whose ownership and employees would also need complete background investigations.
This basic amendment to the financial operation of the IGB should be made at the time any additional licenses are made available in order to permit the IGB to continue to protect the integrity of gaming in Illinois.
notes that the Illinois Senators and Representatives have again discussed legislative proposals to expand gaming in Illinois. The proposals include new gaming licenses for new casinos, including the City of Chicago, as well as the installation of slot machines at Illinois horse race tracks. However, the proposals do not appear to address the responsibility for suitability investigations to be conducted by the Illinois Gaming Board (IGB) on potential investors in these new gambling operations.The IGB, as presently staffed, has experienced difficulty in timely reviewing applications for investments and conducting thorough background investigations. The IGB has never had sufficient staffing to routinely review all vendor contracts regardless of the service provided. The budget restrictions imposed by the State have, in the past, left the IGB staff with concerns about appropriate due diligence or comprehensive background investigations over all aspects of gaming. Adding new casino licenses and slot machines at horse race tracks would, potentially, completely overwhelm the ability of the IGB to provide complete, competent and independent oersight of the industry.
Arguments have previously been made that increasing the budget of the IGB in order to increase the staff and improve their ability to investigate and monitor the gaming industry would cost too much. The answer to this problem could be found in the gaming control operations in both Nevada and New Jersey. Both states require companies and individuals to pay a set amount before an investigation is initiated and to continue to finance the costs of each investigation, without any input or influence on the quality or extent of that investigation. Refusal to pay ends the licensing process. Each Illinois casino location could also be required to pay for the cost of IGB Agents who are required by law to be on-site during gaming activity, but who should be present at all times the casinos are open. This system would take the burden of the cost of the due diligence investigative process off of the State and place it on an industry that generates significant profits to the owners. This would not remove the need for a State budget for the overall operation of the IGB, but the primary costs would be shifted to the companies and individuals that benefit the most from the privilege of owning and operating gaming facilities in Illinois.
This system to increase the size of the staff of the IGB would also be much preferable to any proposed "out-sourcing" of this responsibility to private companies whose ownership and employees would also need complete background investigations.
This basic amendment to the financial operation of the IGB should be made at the time any additional licenses are made available in order to permit the IGB to continue to protect the integrity of gaming in Illinois.
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