"Tension filled the room upon his
arrival. The group immediately went behind closed doors. A short time
later Lyndon, anxious and red-faced, reappeared... Squeezing my hand so
hard, it felt crushed from the pressure, he spoke with a grating
whisper, a quiet growl, into my ear, not a love message, but one I'll
always remember: "After tomorrow those goddamn Kennedys will never
embarrass me again - that's no threat - that's a promise.".
It's important to note that John
J. McCloy was a member of the now discredited Warren Commission which
"investigated" the assassination, appointed by none other than Johnson.
Nixon himself was in Dallas on the day of the assassination.
Dallas Morning News,
November 22, 1963. The day of President Kennedy's assassination
The lead prosecutor in this so
called investigation is Sen
Arlen Specter. Today, he is Chairman of the Senate Judiciary
Committee, insuring that while he is alive, the miscarriage of justice
perpetrated on an American president will never be addressed.
"I was particularly disturbed by the attitudes of top
Masons. I got to know several who are
high court judges. In private they talk as
if ordinary people are an expendable nuisance."
ABOVE:19th century depiction of Scottish Rite
induction into the 33rd degree..
here to view modern interior of Scottish Rite temple
headquarters, Washington DC.
the meditation room where a candidate for freemasonry is left alone
before being conducted into a lodge, just before he receives "the
light", when he is still regarded, as any non-mason-- "profane".
Excerpts from Beyond the Light by William Schnoebelen
Masonic oaths interfere with the Mason's duty to his country?
Your Duty to Country
The Masonic oaths
definitely interfere with the Mason's duty to his country! For
example, in the third degree ritual, the candidate swears:
I will keep a
worthy brother Master Mason's secrets inviolable, when
communicated to or received by me as such, murder and
In the Royal Arch degree
of the York Rite, even that small qualification is summarily
removed. The candidate swears that:
I will keep all the
secrets of a Companion Royal Arch Mason (when communicated to
me as such, or I knowing them to be such), without exceptions.
At this degree, The
candidate also swears that:
I will not speak evil of
a Companion Royal Arch Mason, behind his back nor before his
face, but will appraise him of all approaching danger, if in
Finally, in the Royal
Arch Degree, the candidate promises to:
...employ a Companion
Royal Arch Mason in preference to any other person of equal
1) An Officer of the court who knew of an
arrest warrant sworn out against a brother Mason would have to
warn him immediately so he could flee the jurisdiction.
2) A Mason who was told
of a brother Mason's crimes, even including rape, robbery, or
child abuse, would have to keep his knowledge of those crimes
a secret, even in a court of law!
3) A Royal Arch Mason
who knew of a Companion Mason's being a murderer or a traitor
would have to keep his knowledge a secret!
4) A Royal Arch Mason
would be obligated to hire a Companion Mason, even for
sensitive or skilled professions, even if he didn't have
nearly the qualifications required.
Additionally, though not
mentioned in the oaths, many time Masons get a
"fairer" trial in courts where a Masonic judge
presides. A sizeable majority of judges are Masons, and many
attorneys are Masons as well. If a Mason appears in court
against a non-Mason, all he has to do is give any number of
obscure gestures or words to the judge, and the judge will be
obligated to rule in his favour. No one in the court room will
be the wiser (except another Mason, who would be forbidden
from bringing the incident to light).
It is easy to see how
these elements of the oaths could very definitely be
detrimental to the welfare of our nation. Masons, it is said,
"take care of their own," and they do, to an extent
which is frightening.
Crooked Prosecutors and Judges are Promoted in the Masonic Judicial
It's simple. A crooked judge is more
likely not just to overlook the crimes of a fellow mason, but also
more likely to use his authority to railroad an innocent defendant
under the orders of a higher-ranking mason. Usually, it is done
as a test of loyalty, in exchange for advancement, or some other
When former prosecutors were
criticized by appeals courts for breaking the rules of a fair trial,
their careers weren't sidetracked. Instead they became judges.
By Ken Armstrong and Maurice Possley
Tribune Staff Writers
January 14, 1999
As Cook County prosecutors, Carol
Pearce McCarthy, Kenneth Wadas and Patrick Quinn drew scathing rebukes
from the Illinois Appellate Court for failing to abide by the rules
designed to keep prosecutors honest and trials fair.
"Inexcusable," is how the
court described McCarthy's misconduct in one case. The state's lawyer
disciplinary agency agreed. It took the exceptional step of
reprimanding her -- but in a way that kept her identity a
"An insult to the court and to
the dignity of the trial bar," is what the court called Wadas'
trial tactics. Twice, reviewing courts suggested professional
disciplinary action might be in order to punish his conduct.
As for Quinn, the court wrote
"we can hardly imagine a more obfuscating attempt" to
characterize his misleading statements to a jury. Quinn prosecuted a
sheriff's deputy for official misconduct -- and committed misconduct
himself by allowing two witnesses to provide what he knew was
misleading testimony, the appellate court ruled.
Collectively, the three prosecutors
broke enough rules that nine defendants -- four convicted of murder --
were granted new trials on appeal, according to court records.
But instead of having their career
prospects suffer, all three prosecutors prospered. They were promoted
to supervisor in the Cook County state's attorney's office. Then, on
the same fall day in 1996, all three were elected judges.
Wadas and McCarthy became Cook
County Circuit Court judges and are now responsible for enforcing the
very rules they sometimes violated. Quinn joined the Illinois
Appellate Court -- the court that reviews trial court
Their path is well traveled. A
Tribune analysis of appellate rulings spanning the past two decades
turned up 39 other Cook County prosecutors who also became judges
after cases they prosecuted were reversed because of misconduct.
That group includes former
prosecutors denounced for what the courts have deemed some of the
worst kinds of misconduct: failing to disclose evidence favorable to a
defendant, allowing witnesses to lie or discriminating against
African-Americans during jury selection.
More often, the misconduct consisted
of arguments or cross-examinations that violated a defendant's
constitutional rights. In many instances, those prosecutors who became
judges had only one reversal.
Other Cook County prosecutors
engaging in misconduct have gone on to high-ranking positions in the
Illinois attorney general's office or in city government. Alexander
Vroustouris landed his post as Chicago's inspector general one month
before the courts threw out a murder conviction, ruling Vroustouris
defied a judge's order by making an improper argument the judge had
specifically declared off limits.
Those judges and high-ranking state
and municipal officials underscore a fundamental reason why misconduct
by prosecutors persists. In an environment where prosecutors recite
conviction rates like boxers touting won-loss records, the risks are
negligible for those who break the rules of a fair trial.
Winning a conviction can accelerate
a prosecutor's career, but getting rebuked on appeal will rarely stall
it, contributing to a culture that fosters misconduct. And the
deterrents that confront prosecutors are fearsome only in
Here is what usually happens when a
Appellate courts uphold the
conviction, admonishing the prosecutor not to do it again. When a
court does overturn the conviction, it shields the prosecutor from
embarrassment, omitting his or her name from the opinion or releasing
its ruling in a way that few eyes ever see it.
In their rulings, appellate justices
sometimes urge lawyer disciplinary officials to punish prosecutors,
but such prompting is hollow. Courts have referred numerous
prosecutors to the Illinois agency that polices lawyers only to see
investigative files get opened and closed with no punishment levied,
the Tribune found.
There is little threat of financial
penalties from a civil lawsuit because courts have granted prosecutors
immunity. Courts, though, have carved out narrow exceptions, and some
defendants have won settlements.
And only rarely are criminal charges
filed. Few prosecutors nationally have been indicted, and they were
acquitted or, at worst, convicted of a misdemeanor and fined. Three
former DuPage County prosecutors face trial next week on charges of
framing former Death Row inmate Rolando Cruz.
When Carol Pearce McCarthy ran for
Cook County judge in 1996, she won the crucial endorsement of the
local Democratic Party. For that, she could thank Chicago Mayor
Richard M. Daley, who was once her boss as Cook County state's
Daley sang McCarthy's praises to his
brother John, a Cook County commissioner and a member of the
Democratic panel that slates judicial hopefuls, John Daley recalled in
an interview. McCarthy's former colleagues also lauded her, and John
Daley passed on those acclamations to the selection committee, calling
McCarthy an "outstanding" candidate.
John Daley didn't know that
appellate justices had previously expressed a dramatically different
opinion of McCarthy's work. Nor did he know that she was one of only
two prosecutors sanctioned for trial misconduct by the state's lawyer
disciplinary agency, going back to its creation in 1973.
And it would have been difficult for
him to make those discoveries. Disciplinary and court records
concerning McCarthy's conduct are layered in secrecy or buried in
obscure files. Ask disciplinary officials if McCarthy has ever been
sanctioned, and their rules prevent them from mentioning the reprimand
that she received.
In 1982, McCarthy prosecuted Willie
Ray Jr. on a charge of murdering a man during a robbery at a takeout
restaurant. An eyewitness identified Ray as the killer, and two other
prosecution witnesses provided powerful corroborating evidence.
The prosecution's case appeared to
be stitched tight, but in the trial's closing act, McCarthy put on a
display that would later unravel the work of police, fellow
prosecutors, jurors and court personnel.
In her final argument, McCarthy
resorted to sly hints, unfounded accusations and misstatements of fact
and law, a court later determined. She impugned the defense attorney's
integrity and invited jurors to engage in improper speculation,
intimating that she possessed additional incriminating evidence.
"I wish I could give you my
file . . . but I'm not allowed to because that is the law,"
McCarthy told jurors.
The jury found Ray guilty, but the
verdict was overturned in 1984 by the Illinois Appellate Court, which
listed more than a half dozen ways that McCarthy committed misconduct.
"The prosecutor's actions in
this case read like a veritable hornbook of 'do nots,' " the
court wrote. ". . . The State's interest in a criminal
prosecution is not that it must win at all costs, but to assure that
justice is done . . ."
Ray had to be tried again -- and
again he was convicted.
Although the appellate court was
obviously upset with McCarthy, the court extended a standard courtesy
that sheltered her from embarrassment. Instead of mentioning her by
name in its opinion, the court referred to McCarthy only as "the
The Illinois Attorney Registration
and Disciplinary Commission -- the Illinois Supreme Court agency
charged with policing lawyers -- followed up the appellate court's
ruling with its own investigation. In 1986, after McCarthy had already
left the state's attorney's office, the commission issued her a
reprimand, its weakest sanction.
At the time, reprimands were issued
confidentially. But the Tribune was able to determine McCarthy's
identity because the agency later issued a compendium of its private
disciplinary orders. Although all the names were removed, the Tribune
matched language from the reprimand order with the appellate ruling in
the Ray case, and an examination of the trial transcript identified
McCarthy declined requests for an
interview. When she appeared before the disciplinary commission, she
testified that she had insufficient time to prepare her argument. She
told the commission she believed the defense attorney's argument had
been unfair and she felt compelled to respond.
In its reprimand order, the agency
expressed wonder at the fact that McCarthy had received no internal
discipline within the state's attorney's office.
The Ray case was not the first time
the appellate court had criticized McCarthy for misconduct. A year
before Ray's conviction was reversed, the court threw out the armed
robbery convictions of two men because McCarthy and her trial partner
violated the trial judge's order forbidding them from using certain
In her final argument, McCarthy
disclosed the evidence to jurors and ignored the judge as he sustained
repeated defense objections and instructed jurors to disregard her
In reversing the convictions, the
appellate court took the unusual step of naming McCarthy but issued
the ruling in an unpublished order. Courts issue their rulings in
unpublished orders when they believe a case simply reiterates
well-established points of law. Unpublished orders are not included in
law books or electronic databases, although copies are placed in
defendants' court files. Lawyer disciplinary officials regularly read
published opinions for indications of misconduct, but not unpublished
McCarthy left the office in 1984 and
returned in 1987. In 1990, she was promoted to deputy chief of the
narcotics prosecutions bureau.
As a judge, she hears abuse and
neglect cases in Juvenile Court.
The misdeeds of other prosecutors
get shrouded in the same ways as McCarthy's.
Appellate courts rarely name
prosecutors or defense attorneys in their opinions, even when a lawyer
is found to have acted abominably. The granting of anonymity isn't
mandated anywhere, but instead stems from tradition and professional
courtesy. The practice, though, has generated some second-guessing
within the ranks of reviewing courts.
In a 1983 opinion, the U.S. Supreme
Court suggested identifying overzealous prosecutors as a way to
chastise them. Still, it rarely happens.
Ruth I. Abrams, a justice on
Massachusetts' highest court, has urged her colleagues to name
prosecutors who commit serious misconduct, citing the substantial
costs shouldered by taxpayers, victims and others when a case has to
be retried. "We fail in our duty to the public and the bar when
we do not penalize publicly those prosecutors who engage in egregious
conduct," she wrote.
At the same time, the use of
unpublished orders has reached staggering levels. In 1996 and 1997,
the most recent years for which statistics are available, the Illinois
Appellate Court disposed of 91 percent of its criminal cases in
The Tribune found eight unpublished
orders issued during the last 13 months in which Cook County
convictions were reversed because prosecutors violated the rules of a
fair trial. In two of them, prosecutors were found to have
discriminated against African-Americans during jury selection.
In 1997, the Illinois Appellate
Court reversed the convictions in two separate cases prosecuted by
Patrick Quinn, finding that Quinn and his trial partners broke the
rules of a fair trial.
But by the time those rulings were
issued, Quinn had become a member of the appellate court
In 1994, Quinn, as an assistant
state's attorney, helped prosecute Umberto Perkins, a former Cook
County Jail guard accused of official misconduct for helping an inmate
to escape. Perkins was found guilty, but three years later the
Illinois Appellate Court reversed the convictions and assailed the
At trial, two prosecution witnesses,
both inmates when the escape occurred, denied receiving anything for
testifying against Perkins. In fact, the appeals court said, both had
bargained for and received reduced sentences -- a substantial benefit
that could have been used to challenge their credibility.
By not correcting testimony that was
either "substantially misleading or outright false," the
court wrote, Quinn and his trial partner violated Perkins'
constitutional rights by knowingly using perjured testimony to obtain
Quinn did not participate in the
"I have no comment on the
appellate court's ruling," Quinn said recently. "When the
appellate court speaks, it speaks."
The court's opinion didn't name
Quinn or the case's other prosecutor, Christopher Donnelly. And by the
time the opinion was issued, Donnelly had moved on as well.
In 1994, two months after Perkins
was convicted, Donnelly was elected a Cook County Circuit Court judge
and hears delinquency petitions in Juvenile Court.
In March 1997, just months after
Quinn became a judge, the appellate court reversed another defendant's
conviction for gun charges because Quinn had unfairly presented
evidence suggesting the defendant committed other crimes. The ruling
was issued in an unpublished order that didn't name Quinn.
A third case Quinn prosecuted was
reversed in 1990, while he was still a prosecutor. The appellate court
set aside a murder conviction because Quinn engaged in improper
cross-examination and final argument.
'An insult to the
In October of 1983, then-State's
Atty. Richard M. Daley promoted Kenneth Wadas to chief of the office's
That probably wasn't what the
Illinois Appellate Court had in mind when, five months before, it
called Wadas' conduct "an insult to the court and to the dignity
of the trial bar," and suggested the possibility of disciplinary
Wadas, a former Marine who served in
Vietnam, drew severe criticism from the courts in 1983. Ultimately, he
would be investigated by the state's lawyer disciplinary agency for
three cases that he prosecuted.
But Wadas wasn't disciplined, and
his career didn't suffer. He did, though, learn his lesson and vowed
not to make the same mistakes again, Wadas said in a recent
In May of 1983, the Illinois
Appellate Court ruled on the appeal of Roland Shepard, who had been
convicted of attempted murder and other charges. Without naming Wadas,
the court called his tactics "reprehensible" and
Wadas crossed the line that forbids
prosecutors from arguing with insults instead of evidence, calling
Shepard a "lying, raping, attempt-murdering dog," and saying
police "would have done us all a favor by killing him," the
Still, the court upheld Shepard's
convictions, ruling that the evidence of guilt was so overwhelming
that Wadas' misdeeds had to be considered what the courts call
"harmless error." Loath to condone Wadas' conduct, the court
suggested there might be a way to punish him.
"Perhaps some reports to the
Attorney Registration and Disciplinary Commission are required to
provide an antidote for this virulent condition," the court
Ruling in a different case in
December of 1983, U.S. District Judge Milton Shadur called Wadas'
conduct "outrageous." Wadas ran afoul while trying Gilbert
Crist for attempted murder by making improper attacks on Crist and
Crist's attorney, Shadur said. The judge threw out Crist's convictions
and reported Wadas to lawyer disciplinary officials. But a year later,
a higher court reinstated Crist's convictions, saying Shadur
overstated any harm done by what the court called Wadas'
Also in December of 1983, Robert
Earl Wilson's convictions for rape and deviate sexual assault were
reversed by the Illinois Appellate Court based in part upon a finding
that the prosecutors committed misconduct while arguing the case. The
opinion didn't name him, but one of the prosecutors was Wadas,
according to trial transcripts.
Before those court rulings
condemning his tactics were issued, Wadas won murder convictions in
March of 1983 against two brothers, Joseph and Kenneth Beringer. But
four years later the convictions were reversed.
The appeals court took Wadas and his
trial partner to task for "brazen misconduct," which
included destroying a key witness' credibility with unsubstantiated
attacks and impugning the defense attorney's integrity.
The Illinois Attorney Registration
and Disciplinary Commission investigated Wadas for the Shepard, Crist
and Beringer cases, Wadas said recently. And even though he wasn't
disciplined, the experience was gut-wrenching, he said.
"It's terrifying. My stomach
was in knots for months until those matters were resolved," he
In some instances, Wadas said, he
believes he was whipsawed by a shift in how reviewing courts treat
different kinds of arguments that prosecutors use. He said tactics
that once had passed muster or received only faint criticism became
grounds for reversal.
Wadas said that any missteps he made
while prosecuting cases were unintentional. And he said he took care
not to repeat conduct that reviewing courts found objectionable.
Wadas went into private practice in
1986, doing mostly criminal defense work. When he ran for judge in
1996, Wadas said he told the lawyer groups that screen judicial
candidates about the disciplinary commission investigations. They
found him qualified.
"I think they probably took
into consideration that people mellow with age and reach some balance
in their lives," said Wadas, who is 53.
Wadas currently presides over cases
in Criminal Court.
Reviewing courts have referred
prosecutors besides Wadas to Illinois' lawyer disciplinary commission.
None was sanctioned.
Among those referrals were 13 cases
where a court named the prosecutor who committed misconduct in its
opinion then either sent its opinion to the disciplinary commission or
suggested it investigate, according to a Tribune review of appellate
opinions since 1973. But not one of those prosecutors was subsequently
disciplined, according to the commission's records.
Trial judges and defense attorneys
also have referred prosecutors to the disciplinary agency without the
referrals being made public, according to disciplinary
The Tribune found more than 300
published rulings in the past two decades where a state conviction was
reversed because of misconduct by prosecutors. But only McCarthy and
one other prosecutor have been sanctioned for trial misconduct,
according to agency officials and records.
In 1987, a year after McCarthy's
private reprimand, Ray Garza was censured for personal attacks upon a
defense witness and defense lawyer in a Cook County case he
prosecuted, according to commission records.
Confidentiality rules prohibit
disciplinary commission officials from speaking about specific cases
unless the agency has found enough evidence to file a formal complaint
of its own.
Mary Robinson, the agency's
administrator, said the agency does summon some prosecutors before it
each year and issues what the commission calls a "station-house
adjustment" -- the prosecutor acknowledges making a mistake and
agrees not to do it again. In return, no formal complaint is issued.
"You don't need to be disbarred
to be worried," Robinson said. "I think most people
seriously underestimate how worried lawyers are about any contact from
(the disciplinary commission). Just getting that (notification) letter
is an onerous experience for most lawyers."
Also, agency investigators have
sought complaints against some prosecutors but were overruled by the
agency's inquiry boards, the panels that authorize formal complaints,
If some crucial fact is in dispute
-- and it's a prosecutor's word against somebody else's -- inquiry
board members tend to believe the prosecutors, Robinson said.
"Prosecutors are ministers of
justice," she said, "and they get some respect for
Do it by the
At the Cook County state's
attorney's office, administrators can not recall a single case where a
prosecutor has been dismissed for trial misconduct. Current State's
Atty. Dick Devine said it hasn't happened during his tenure. Nor did
it occur on the watch of his predecessors dating back to 1980 -- Jack
O'Malley, Cecil Partee and Richard M. Daley, according to interviews
with former officials.
Devine, who was elected state's
attorney in 1996, said his office is aggressive in attempting to
prevent and combat prosecutorial misconduct.
He addresses all new prosecutors,
quoting from a 1935 U.S. Supreme Court decision that describes the
prosecutor's obligation to ensure that trials are fair.
His office, which spends between
$250,000 and $300,000 a year on training, requires prosecutors to
attend classes and seminars, an aide said. Each newly sworn prosecutor
is given a handbook on trial practices that draws the lines separating
fair and foul. And when a reviewing court reverses a conviction due to
the prosecution's misconduct, supervisors review the case with the
assistants who tried it, Devine said.
The office has a disciplinary
process that is "designed to be corrective rather than simply
punitive," according to a prepared statement from Devine, and it
makes a "clear distinction" between willful acts and those
attributable to "lack of experience, an error of judgment, a
change in the law" or a need for continuing legal education. An
intentional act of misconduct is grounds for dismissal, Devine
The office has other sanctions, such
as written warnings, demotions and suspensions. Citing confidentiality
rules, Devine would not say if prosecutors involved in specific cases
where misconduct was found received any discipline other than
Courts do not throw out a conviction
if a prosecutor's misconduct is what they call "harmless
Some kinds of misconduct require
automatic reversal, such as a finding that prosecutors discriminated
during jury selection. But for most kinds of misconduct, courts try to
determine if the conduct affected the trial's outcome or was
Between 1993 and 1997, there were
167 published opinions in which the Illinois Appellate Court or
Illinois Supreme Court found that prosecutors committed some form of
misconduct that could be considered harmless. In 122 of those cases --
or nearly three out of four times -- the reviewing court affirmed the
conviction, holding that the misconduct was "harmless," the
The misconduct has been as serious
as concealing evidence or as juvenile as name calling. Illinois courts
have upheld convictions when prosecutors have referred to a defendant
as a "mutant from Hell" or "Mr. Mentally
Retarded;" to a defense witness as "Miss One Hundred and
Fifty Dollars an Opinion;" and to a defense attorney in this way:
"She may be small, and she may be a woman, but she's a pretty
dirty trial lawyer."
When they uphold convictions despite
misconduct, the courts often take great pains to stress that their
ruling doesn't mean they condone the prosecutor's behavior.
In his 18 years on the Illinois
Appellate Court, Dom Rizzi struggled to rein in those prosecutors who
trampled upon defendants' rights. And he struggled to get other
justices to help.
"Too many prosecutors are
overzealous. Too many prosecutors are more interested in getting a
conviction rather than doing justice," he said recently.
Some lawyers considered Rizzi the
court's conscience, a bold and scholarly justice who was willing, on
occasion, to rule by what he thought the law should be, not what it
was. Some prosecutors, though, derided him as a lawyer with little
experience in the trenches of criminal court.
Over the years, Rizzi tried
repeatedly to get prosecutors to try cases fairly.
In some opinions he scolded the
prosecution with acid language. In some he mentioned prosecutors by
name. During oral argument, he sometimes asked prosecutors to relay
the message to their supervisors that the appellate court was getting
fed up with certain tactics.
When Rizzi detected a troublesome
pattern, he documented it. In one trial, prosecutors said they
couldn't provide the defense with tape-recorded police interviews of a
witness because they had lost the tape. By a 2-1 vote the court upheld
the conviction, but Rizzi dissented and listed 30 other Illinois cases
-- including 23 in Cook County -- where evidence had been lost or
improperly destroyed by prosecutors and police.
"There appears to be a black
hole somewhere in the state's evidence vault so condensed that
evidence cannot be retrieved from its gravitational field," he
Rizzi frequently faulted prosecutors
for misconduct, and he also blamed trial judges and reviewing courts
for tolerating it.
Rizzi became particularly incensed
over what he said was a practice by prosecutors of systematically
excluding African-Americans from juries. Although considered
unconstitutional, the practice had flourished for decades because
reviewing courts applied a test from the U.S. Supreme Court that made
it all but impossible to prove discriminatory intent.
So, in a 1982 case, Rizzi boldly
fashioned a new test and decided prosecutors had flunked it. The
Illinois Supreme Court slapped him down, but four years later, the
nation's highest court abandoned its old analytical framework for one
"The U.S. Supreme Court should
be ashamed of itself for having tolerated that policy for so long a
period of time -- and the Illinois Supreme Court also," Rizzi
Rizzi also bristles at other ways in
which he believes reviewing courts fail to deter misconduct by
prosecutors. Too often, he said, courts document misconduct in
unpublished orders or treat misconduct as harmless error.
"If you do not reverse the
conviction where there is prosecutorial misconduct," he said,
"there is virtually no way you can be assured that the conduct
will not repeat itself in other cases."
Rizzi retired from the appellate
court in 1996 -- the same year that McCarthy, Wadas and Quinn won
election to the bench.