Victims are citizens he serves
By Bob Greene
The danger in the proposal in the Illinois General Assembly to impeach Supreme Court Chief Justice James D. Heiple is that it may allow Heiple to portray himself as a victim, a martyr.
He's no victim. The people of his state - and the concept of fairness and justice - are the victims. The drive to impeach Heiple would not be necessary had the Illinois Courts Commission, during the pathetic sham of a hearing it put on in Collinsville, Ill., last week, even pretended to care about learning the facts of Heiple's misconduct case. Because the courts commission - headed by Heiple's friend and hand-picked commission chairman, Supreme Court Justice Moses Harrison II - refused to allow any testimony, the legislators behind the move to impeach Heiple are trying to hold their own hearings. The General Assembly would have subpoena power - and, presumably, the inclination to listen to witnesses.
What Heiple, his friend Harrison, and the four other judges on the courts commission did last week finally illuminated, once and for all, the emptiness of what justice means when powerful officials decide to look out for each other. The most striking symbol in that hearing room was a small table with a microphone on top and an empty chair pulled up to it. This was the witness table - the table that was never used.
Seven police officers from four Illinois cities had traveled to Collinsville to testify against Heiple. Heiple had asked the commission - a panel he had chaired until January - not to let the police officers be heard. The commission - with Heiple's friend Harrison speaking for it - granted Heiple's wish.
Harrison and his colleagues did not even allow any argument on the point. When Jeffrey Stone, the prosecutor for the Judicial Inquiry Board, objected - when Stone said that it was necessary for the officers to testify in "the most significant case ever brought before the Illinois Courts Commission" - Harrison silenced him. The commission had made up its mind: Whatever the officers might have wanted to tell the judges about what Heiple had done to avoid arrest, the commission had no interest in hearing.
When the commission had originally been asked to remove Harrison as its chairman because of the obvious conflict of interest in a man judging a close friend who had nominated him for the job, the commission members ruled that they should not be held to standards and regulations that apply to judges; for the purpose of judging Heiple, the five Illinois judges on the panel said, they should be considered "commissioners," not judges.
But when Stone, speaking for the prosecution, kept reminding Harrison of what the police officers would have said had they been allowed to testify, Harrison responded very much like an angry judge.
"Don't put me in a position where I'll have to deal with you," Harrison said, staring at Stone. The implication was clear: Justice Harrison had the power to hold Stone in contempt if Stone kept bringing up the fact that the officers had been silenced. The license of every lawyer in Illinois is subject to scrutiny by the Illinois Supreme Court. On the day Heiple stood accused, his friend Harrison appeared to be reminding the prosecuting attorney of exactly that.
Heiple, once he had successfully prevented the police officers from testifying, once he was free from the possibility of cross-examination, once the courts commission members had left the room, began his now-notorious performance for the cameras on the floor of the hearing room. He had not admitted the charges against him, Heiple claimed; he had simply "elected not to deny them." "I have serious factual disputes with the police," Heiple said - after making sure that the police officers were sent home without being allowed to utter a word. Having promised the commission that he would not contest the charges against him, he then - for the cameras - proceeded to do just that, impugning the officers and telling his version of what happened without letting the officers tell theirs.
He did all this once he knew that there was no possibility of anyone cross-examining him, or placing him under oath. Jeff Stone - the prosecutor who would have presented the police witnesses and cross-examined Heiple, had the commission allowed it - watched Heiple's performance in amazement.
"Let's try the case," Stone said. "Why can't we try the case?"
He couldn't try the case because the courts commission, run by Heiple's friend, would not permit it. Heiple, though, proceeded to try his own case, with no prosecutor to challenge him, in front of the cameras. That wasn't the most repugnant thing he did, though. In our next column, we will explain what that was.
Chicago Tribune