Whatever the outcome of the Jon Burge perjury and obstruction of justice trial, the legal battles that have swirled around the former police commander for more than 20 years, and which have cost the city millions of dollars, will drag on.
“Not only legal battles, but political battles,” said civil rights lawyer Flint Taylor, who represents several men who accused Mr. Burge and others of torturing them while at Area 2 violent crimes unit on the Far South Side in the 1970s and ’80s. “This is just one phase in the long struggle against police torture.”
(Burge was found guilty on all counts Monday)
The jury will resume negotiations on Monday, and Mr. Taylor said that he plans to file a federal civil lawsuit against Mr. Burge, Mayor Richard M. Daley, LeRoy Martin, a former police superintendent, and the “cast of characters” who worked as detectives under Mr. Burge. Mr. Taylor will file suit on behalf of Burge accuser Ronald Kitchen, whose murder conviction was overturned.
Meanwhile, United States Representative Danny Davis, Democrat of Chicago, is pushing for federal legislation that would make police torture a federal crime without a statute of limitations.
But none of this will end Darrell Cannon’s nightmare. Mr. Cannon, 59, spent 24 years in prison after being convicted of murder. He had tried, without success, to convince a court that police officers under Mr. Burge tortured him into a confession.
“I don’t want people to get complacent,” Mr. Cannon said, referring to the aftermath of a Burge verdict. “He didn’t do that torturing by himself.” He wants new hearings for more than 20 people incarcerated in Illinois who also claim they were tortured.
Indeed, Mr. Cannon and many others touched by the case will probably have a hard time finding closure. The verdict will not change what many involved in the case — police, activists, Burge supporters and opponents —believe about police torture in Chicago.
The jury was not told about the finding of a four-year, $6 million dollar investigation by special prosecutors who found police abused suspects at Area 2. Jurors were also not told about a report issued by the Office of Professional Standards that called for allegations of excessive force by Mr. Burge to be sustained. That report led to Mr. Burge’s firing in 1993. One of the authors of the report, Francine Sanders, said she did not think a conviction would bring her any deep satisfaction.
“No matter which way the verdict goes, there’s no happy ending here for anyone,” she said. “This case is not about Jon Burge. It’s about a system, a culture, a sickness in human nature that allows things like this to happen.”
The Burge case has brought shame to public officials, including Mr. Daley, who was the Cook County state’s attorney during most of the 1980s, as well as Richard Devine, his first assistant who eventually became state’s attorney. A doctor who saw Andrew Wilson’s injuries wrote a letter to Richard Brzeczek, then the Chicago police superintendent, asking for an investigation into a case of possible police brutality. Mr. Brzeczek forwarded the letter to Mr. Daley, but charges were never brought against the officers who interrogated Mr. Wilson.
Supporters of Mr. Burge, 62, observed parts of the trial, including Jim Knightly, a retired police captain, and relatives of Officer William Fahey, who was killed in 1982 by a man who later claimed he was tortured.
An end to the Burge case would be meaningful to officers who worked with Mr. Burge and officers on duty today, said Mr. Knightly, 66. “The morale is low now as it is,” Mr. Knightly said. “If you want these guys out doing the job with the federal government harassing people 20 years after something allegedly happened. What a waste of money.”
Mike Fahey, 51, a dispatcher at the city’s Water Department, has supported Mr. Burge since he caught the men accused of killing his brother in 1982. Mr. Fahey said he believes Mr. Burge was wrongly accused by career criminals. “Who are you going to say something bad about?” Mr. Fahey said. “The person who arrested you. One talks to another.”
Four prosecution witnesses who said they had been tortured by Mr. Burge or by officers under him, had criminal histories. Mr. Cannon did not testify. He said Area 2 detectives beat him, staged mock executions and administered electric shocks to his testicles and penis. He drew sketches of the alleged abuse. But, like some of the alleged victims presented at trial, he had no photographic evidence or witnesses to corroborate his story.
Mr. Burge, who was accustomed to giving court testmony during his years as a high-ranking police officer, appeared to be an effective witness in his own defense, calmly denying each allegation. He cried openly before the jury when talking about the investigation of the killing of two police officers.
Mr. Taylor, the civil rights lawyer who has gathered evidence from Mr. Burge’s accusers and represented them for two decades, was in court when Mr. Burge broke down on the stand.
“I cross-examined Burge on several occasions in the ’80s, and he never shed a tear, never showed any kind of emotion like that,” Mr. Taylor said.
Jo Ann Patterson, the mother of one of the aleged torture victims, said attending the trial would have been too painful. “I just can’t stand to see him in person,” she said. “Hopefully, a conviction will send a clear signal to the rest of the department. You can’t torture people and get away with it, even if it takes 20 years.”
Her son, Aaron Patterson, and three others later won part of a nearly $20 million settlement with the city. Mr. Patterson later went to prison on separate federal weapons and drug charges.
If Mr. Burge is found guilty but does not receive serious jail time, it would not help the black community feel a sense of vindication, said retired civil rights attorney Larry Kennon, 80. “If he is convicted, that means there is a modicum of honesty in an otherwise completely flawed criminal justice system,” Mr. Kennon said. “We, including myself, have every little faith in our criminal justice system.”
Mr. Burge’s attorneys intended to tell the jury about the “DC effect,” named for Mr. Cannon. They claimed that, after Mr. Cannon made allegations of torture, other defendants concocted similar stories to secure their own freedom. But Judge Joan Lefkow would not allow the jury to hear the Cannon theory, though a brief mention of it was made by a defense witness. The defense still alleged that men who knew each other made up allegations of police torture.
At his house five blocks from Area 2 police headquarters, Mr. Cannon said he still is haunted by memories of his interrogation.
“I’ve lived this nightmare every day,” Mr. Cannon said. “Even before he was indicted, I thought about what had been done to me and others. Every night.”
