NYCivic

One month later

Velella Enjoys Freedom;
Public Awaits DOI Report

By Henry J. Stern
October 28, 2004

One month has passed since September 28th, the day that former State Senator Guy Velella was released from Rikers Island after serving three months of a one-year term.

The resulting uproar led to Mayor Bloomberg's dismissal of all members of the Local Conditional Release Commission, and his appointment of a new chair, Daniel Richman, a law professor who described himself as "squeaky clean."

However, no action has been taken with regard to the senator's release. Since no new members of the LCRC have been appointed except the chair, it is impossible for the board to act. Both the City Council staff and the new LCRC chair have suggested that the Velella release was invalid for a number of reasons: 1) lack of a quorum; 2) no meeting notice, or even proof of an actual meeting; 3) premature consideration of his application, because a previous request for early release had just been denied, and the law requires a 60-day waiting period in such cases.

The Department of Investigation is working hard on a report on this matter. They will presumably also consider the early releases of Velella's co-conspirators, Hector Del Toro and Manuel Gonzales, who did not, as far as we know, make teary-eyed appeals or threaten to commit suicide. The trio accounts for the majority of all releases this year — 3 out of 5 — out of a total of 12,400 prisoners on Rikers Island.

The case appears to be a serious error in judgment by Raul Russi, a career law enforcement official with a previously unblemished record, who appropriately resigned when summoned by the mayor. But the delay in the city's taking action, or refusing to act, on Velella, suggests how far beyond LCRC the problem may go. Did Russi, for example, discuss the matter with anyone at the time he acted? Did he know Del Toro or Gonzales, and, if so, what was their relationship? Russi has been known as a prudent bureaucrat, not a risk-taker, and he knew the importance of these cases. Why did he put his public career and his good reputation at risk?

Accepting the mayor's statement that he had no prior knowledge of this case (which we believe is true, although he was well-acquainted with Velella), and that he was unaware of the commission's existence (so were we), he did learn of the matter on September 29, when it was reported in the press. It is to the mayor's credit that he cleaned house at LCRC, also dismissing a deputy commissioner whose role in the Velella case has not yet been made public. But firing people who may be smallfry does not conclude the matter.

The press is making the most of the case — as investigative journalists should — in part because this a clean administration in which lapses by officials have resulted in quiet departures. Reporters who feed on scandals have had little to chew on for the last three years. That is one reason the Velella matter has stirred their juices — the lack of raw meat.

What makes the Velella matter so striking is not only the brevity of his sentence, the extent of his influence and the secrecy with which he was sprung, but the vivid example the case provides of a double standard in criminal justice, in which ordinary prisoners rot on Rikers Island, while the politically connected are freed after one-quarter of their plea-bargained sentences, and driven home by the president of the correction officers' union. The issue is more than the number of months he should serve, it is the spectacle of a public affront to basic notions of fairness and equality before the law.

There is a tangled web here that may go far beyond the actual release. Contracts for anti-drug agencies may not be as profitable as dealing drugs, but there is far less risk of incarceration by the state or execution by one's rivals, suppliers or dissatisfied customers. Journalists with research capability are following the trail to what may, or may not, be a widening stain. One excellent and extensive article appeared in the October 29 issue of The Chief, written by Richard Steier. The Chief describes itself as "the civil employees' weekly," and carries far more news of city personnel issues and union rivalries than the major dailies. I strongly recommend Steier's analysis to those seriously interested in the intricacies of power and influence and the relationships between the players.

Prof. Richman, the new LCRC chair, received a glowing profile from Robin Finn in the Times' Public Lives column yesterday. The article captures his public persona, and gives hints of what he plans for the commission. He is scholarly and precise, but does not appear adventurous. At any rate, he must wait for his colleagues to be appointed, a process in which he did not display particular interest when he testified at the Council hearing Oct. 18.

Newsday's Dan Janison asks what ever happened to Mayor Bloomberg's plan, announced in 2002, to merge the departments of correction and probation. They have a single commissioner, but, as of yet, the City Council has not acted on the merger legislation, which is opposed by the correction officers' union. Janison's article concludes with language that might hold a clue: "With the quasi-judicial Local Conditional Release Commission probed for possible criminal conduct, Horn has refused to comment or release information on the Probation Department's administrative role in the release."

Other Velella stories have appeared in which he is mentioned incidentally, and we do not link to them. You can find them by Googling his name.

We would be pleased if the DOI report were completed and released, and the city could proceed to the next step in dealing with the case. We know how complicated investigations can get, as newly discovered facts lead to other lines of inquiry. Our suggestion is that DOI report what they know now — specifically, what happened at LCRC, and whether or not relevant laws and regulations were followed. Waiting to unravel the entire web may frustrate justice. Again, we cite Rule 29-P: "The perfect is the enemy of the good."

Our earnest hope is that by the time you read this column, it will have been rendered anachronistic by a city administration which is aware of the problem and unwilling to see its own good name stained by the sins or errors of individuals, most of whom it did not even appoint.