A Chicago police officer cracked Greg Larkins’ head open with a baton back in 2006, requiring him to be stitched up at a hospital.
Within a few days, several relatives of Larkins who said they witnessed the allegedly unprovoked attack gave statements to an investigator for the city. His mother also handed over photos of his injuries.
Yet more than five years passed before the Independent Police Review Authority, which investigates allegations of wrongdoing against police, filed charges of excessive force against Officer Bruce Askew and called for his firing.
But the long delay proved costly. Late last month, the Chicago Police Board, which decides the most serious disciplinary cases, dismissed the charge not based on the evidence, but because by state law, the disciplinary action had to be filed before a five-year statute of limitations ran out.
“It just went on and on,” Larkins’ mother, Alice, 71, said of the investigation into her son’s alleged beating. “I was shocked when they told us to come down” for a hearing.
IPRA is under fire for investigations that have lingered for years, jeopardizing in at least a few cases the firings of police officers that the superintendent had deemed unfit to serve. But the officers’ lawyers say the delays are just as damaging to officers trying to defend themselves against charges they deny.
Earlier this month, the city appealed a Cook County Circuit Court ruling that reversed the firing of two other officers accused of an off-duty attack in 2006 because their case also took too long to resolve. They were returned to duty.
In addition, the Fraternal Order of Police, which represents rank-and-file officers, intends to raise the issue Monday at an arbitration hearing, saying the disciplinary investigations are too long and violate its contract with the city.
And attorneys who regularly defend Chicago police officers accused of wrongdoing have filed a flurry of motions to dismiss the cases because of delays as long as five years.
But Ilana Rosenzweig, IPRA’s head, defends her record, saying the investigations are often complex and need to be thorough.
The office was certainly handed a daunting task five years ago when it was created to replace the often-maligned Office of Professional Standards. IPRA inherited its caseload and was charged with professionalizing investigations and restoring the public’s trust that allegations against police officers would be taken seriously.
But attorneys who represent accused officers say the long investigations impede their ability to mount a defense and are unfair to the officers, who are sometimes stunned when charges are filed years after the allegations were initially leveled.
“The delay is ridiculous, but what’s more maddening is the delay seems unnecessary,” said attorney Thomas Needham, who specializes in defending officers accused of misconduct. “No one is difficult to find. No one is asserting their right to remain silent. No one is recanting. They are fairly simple, straightforward cases that shouldn’t take months or years to investigate.
“There’s no system that works like this … that is allowed to work at this pace,” Needham said. “It’s a total embarrassment.”
A case up just last week before the Police Board illustrated the problem. Chicago police Officer Chris Traynor is fighting a move to dismiss him on charges stemming from an off-duty traffic altercation in November 2006.
His accuser, Linsy Galati, sat relaxed in the witness chair as she calmly shared details of the alleged road-rage encounter. She testified that Traynor grabbed her by the neck and pushed her head against the steering wheel of her car.
But Needham, who is representing Traynor, pushed at Galati’s inability to remember details of the Northwest Side confrontation from so long ago. When Needham asked if she threatened to kill Traynor or his girlfriend, Galati struggled to answer. “It was like six years ago. I don’t remember,” she said.
Needham seized on the moment, asking Galati about whether the passage of years affected her memory.
“The little details, yes. I don’t remember saying that,” retorted Galati, who then revealed that she was becoming increasingly nervous during her testimony. “I don’t remember some of the small things being said back and forth.”
Needham is seeking to dismiss the charge, saying that once again IPRA violated state law with its delays.
IPRA, formed in 2007 by city ordinance, investigates about 2,800 complaints of police misconduct each year. The vast majority don’t lead to charges, in many cases because the complainants don’t follow through. The most serious charges — including all those leading to firings — go before the Chicago Police Board for a decision. In its five-year history, IPRA has filed 40 cases there, according to Police Board records. Those investigations took from about one year to almost 51/2 years to complete, the records show.
When the office opened, a primary focus was to increase the skill level of investigators through rigorous training, Rosenzweig said in an interview. For example, investigators went to the Illinois state crime lab to better understand forensic evidence collection, and they learned about how to build better, more complete cases — with the potential for criminal prosecution — with Cook County assistant state’s attorneys.
Then in 2011, the office made a conscious decision to focus on clearing older cases, Rosenzweig said.
So the fact that charges in the older cases are emerging now “is a symptom of the cure that was put in place as opposed to an ongoing issue,” she said.
The long investigations also reflect how the office is working to regain the trust of citizens, Rosenzweig said.
“We had to start from a position where we had to gain a lot of trust that was lost over the years,” she said. “There are investigations where we might have spent six months to get (a witness) to cooperate.”
But Rosenzweig conceded that it was regrettable that the case against Officer Askew, who was accused of striking Greg Larkins, was thrown out by the Police Board because the length of the investigation exceeded five years.
“It should not have happened,” she said. “We are going to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Askew has denied all the charges.
Several other factors also affect the speed of an investigation. Staffing has been an ongoing issue — the office is now down six of its 54 budgeted positions, Rosenzweig said. Before charges are filed, the superintendent is given a three-month review period. Her office has worked with the city’s Law Department to streamline how quickly that department draws up the charges, she said.
Several defense attorneys, however, seemed baffled by the plodding investigations, saying that in many cases witnesses were interviewed early on. And because officers are not stripped of their powers until they are formally charged, they continue to work, sometimes even forgetting the investigation is looming.
“It’s just puzzling,” said James P. Nally, who is representing one of the officers whose firing was reversed. “Twice in the internal notes of the investigation it showed (it) was complete and for whatever reason it sat. … Police officers like anybody else are entitled to due process. … If these officers aren’t suitable for duty, why did they let them serve for four years?”
Rosenzweig, who wouldn’t comment on individual cases, said her office often sends investigators back to do more work, which reflects her efforts to make investigations more thorough and fair to both accused and accuser.
Attorneys in a number of the pending cases have filed 10 motions to dismiss to push their point. Not all have prevailed, and some are pending.
With some investigations lasting so long, defense attorneys said it’s not only memories that fade, but also the trail of evidence they can use to defend their clients.
That argument was successfully used in one of the most closely watched cases.
Two off-duty officers, Brian Murphy and Jason Orsa, were accused of several rule violations in connection with an incident in a Northwest Side Taco Burrito King in March 2006. Murphy is alleged to have pulled his weapon on a man there, and both he and Orsa are accused of attacking him. Their firings — as well as the long suspension of a sergeant who responded to the scene — were reversed by a Circuit Court judge, who agreed that the four-year investigation “prejudiced” their ability to defend themselves. The officers deny wrongdoing, saying the man threatened them.
In her ruling, Judge Kathleen Pantle pointed out that several key interviews were completed as early as 2007, and that the delayed investigation prevented the officers from tracking witnesses closer to the time of the alleged attack, including two seen on a videotape using a credit card to pay for food as the altercation started.
“These patrons could easily have been witnesses favorable to Murphy and Orsa,” Pantle wrote. “… Murphy and Orsa could have subpoenaed Taco Burrito King to produce any and all credit card receipts.”
The city has already filed an appeal of the decision — for the first time sending a case that raises issues on delays to the Illinois Appellate Court.
So far there has not been an effort to appeal the Police Board decision that reversed the firing of the officer accused of hitting Greg Larkins back in 2006 on his porch.
Asked about the incident recently, Larkins, 38, raised his hand to the back of his head and rubbed the area where he said he was hit.
Surprisingly, the Larkinses, who have lived in the same house in the West Englewood neighborhood for decades, weren’t upset that Askew is keeping his job.
Instead, the family talked about how easy it is for someone to make a mistake and of how hard it is for police officers to patrol a beleaguered community like theirs.
But they do hope that the potential loss of his livelihood taught Askew a lesson.
That would be enough, Greg Larkins said.
“I wouldn’t wish that on nobody,” he said about Askew losing his job. “He should have had more common sense than to hit a person … (but) they caught him and they took him to (a hearing).”
