Parole system shrouds frauds Poor enforcement of disclosure law hides 'consultants' who rip off inmates, families. By Mike Ward AMERICAN-STATESMAN STAFF Sunday, May 21, 2006

The enigmatic process that determines which Texas prison inmates should be set free on parole has long been prone to eruptions of scandal and corruption.

Shrouded in secrecy and buffeted by politics, the system is largely ignored by the public until it boils over and brings down a governor or spawns criminal charges.

The volcano appears to be rumbling again.

A Dallas ex-con has been sent back to prison amid allegations that he bilked inmates and their families with false promises to help prisoners win parole. In recent weeks, state investigators have expanded their probe to include two other firms suspected of using the secretive nature of the parole process to cheat clients.

As the investigations blossom, an Austin American-Statesman analysis shows that state parole officials appear to have little control over the network of attorneys — and hucksters — who ply the secret byways of the parole process trying to affect which murderers, rapists, drug dealers or embezzlers get out of jail early.

State supervision of this little-known multimillion-dollar industry rests largely on a single requirement — that attorneys hired to help inmates gain parole file regular reports showing whom they are being paid to represent.

What might seem like an insignificant exercise in paper-shuffling is actually much more: It is the only way for parole officials to track what has become a lucrative business rife with opportunities for fraud and influence peddling. It is the only way inmates and their families might know who is legally doing consulting work and to presumably protect themselves from getting ripped off. And it is one small check that might afford the public some assurance that the system is not improperly paroling dangerous convicts.

Failing to disclose the basic information required is a misdemeanor.

At least, it's supposed to be.

An American-Statesman review of all disclosure filings in the past year shows that dozens of attorneys ignore the mandate, including many being paid by the state to represent convicts in some hearings.

Some offer written excuses for their failure to comply: They lost their files, their clients won't let them say or they didn't have time to tally up the information.

One lawyer's excuse: He's old and can't remember.

Officials in the Texas Department of Criminal Justice's parole division who oversee the program initially insisted they have no power to enforce the law. But after learning of the Statesman's findings, state Parole Division Director Bryan Collier said he has ordered that stance reviewed.

"Our position is and has been that we didn't have the authority or the capability to enforce this statute, and we are now reviewing that to see if that is, in fact, a correct position," he said. "If we're supposed to be doing it, we should be doing it right."

Longtime parole consultants agree.

"It's a mess," said William Habern, a veteran Huntsville parole attorney who has been complying with the law for 30 years. "If they enforced this law, there is no telling how many people they might find, how many lawyers are doing parole work and not registering, how many who aren't lawyers are doing parole work illegally and how many are charging exorbitant fees for little or nothing.

"It's just another example of how the parole system in Texas is sick beyond the telling of it, from top to bottom," he added.

The Board of Pardons and Paroles — its seven members appointed by the governor — and 12 parole commissioners hired by the board considered more than 70,000 of the state's 148,000 inmates for parole in fiscal year 2005 and granted parole to 19,582 — just under 28 percent. Under state law, every scrap of paper filed and every record of parole deliberations save for the final vote is secret, so there is no way to know how decisions are made.

Given the enormous flow of cases, board members may spend less than a minute considering each one when they deliberate individually, in offices around the state. So many inmates, or their families, hire consultants, who claim a higher success rate for their clients than inmates navigating the process by themselves. The consultants file briefs or argue before the board.

The disclosure law is the public's only window into an otherwise opaque system.

On the books for decades, the disclosure requirement was touted just last month by state officials as an important way Texans could avoid rip-offs, as authorities investigated Andy Bob Coats, a convicted Dallas con man accused of scamming hundreds of prison inmates and their families out of perhaps hundreds of thousands of dollars — all while he was on parole himself.

That was much the same reason that legislators, alarmed by the close relationship between the board and "professional clemency seekers," enacted the disclosure law almost 60 years ago. In response to continuing questions about the system's integrity, lawmakers tweaked the statute in 1989 and 1993.

"I look at people who are getting a lot of business to see if there's anything our agency is doing that they're getting rich off of, that we need to change," Collier said.

At issue are the so-called "fee affidavits" and annual disclosure reports filed with parole officials. Under state law, an attorney representing an inmate on a parole matter must file a one-page affidavit disclosing the client and fee paid. By Jan. 31 each year, the attorneys must also file a summary of the previous year's clients, how much they were paid and whether they are a former prison or parole board member or employee, or have associations or relationships with any.

Records obtained under the Texas Public Information Act show that even attorneys who are filing are not complying with the law.

In all, 535 attorneys filed disclosure forms with the parole agency for last year, showing they collected at least $3.6 million in fees ranging from less than $100 a case to more than $15,000. That bought representation in about 3,700 parole cases.

More than 80 of the 535 attorneys who filed the disclosure reports did not list either clients or compensation as required by the law. At least 15 of those were under contract with the parole board, according to the state filings.

Many left the forms blank. Others insisted they could not recall who their clients were or said the parole board had the names already.

"I have no idea," one Fort Worth attorney wrote on his 2006 disclosure form.

On his form for 2005, Grand Prairie attorney Paul Leech said he represented "one person in Tarrant County whose name I cannot remember. At 73 my recollection is poor."

Leech said he answered that way because the parolee's case went on so long that he was unsure which year it came before the board, and, after searching his files for details without success, he had to make the filing deadline.

"Families shop around for someone who can promise, 'We can handle this. We have a great success rate,' " he said. "Most have been on the parole board or say they have some influence with them."

Dozens more did not list their compensation. Some answered only "yes" or listed their billable rate instead of the specific fee, as required. One answered "reasonable attorney's fee." Another: "Info unavailable." Others cited attorney-client confidentiality. Another said she could not provide details "since I have direct deposit and am not informed as to the amount of compensation I receive for each parolee."

Many who did not list their compensation are paid by taxpayers to represent inmates at parole revocation hearings, records show. Some who filed the required disclosure reports gave no client names or compensation. "See your records," one advised, echoing the sentiments of several others.

In 2005, officials said, the parole board paid 234 attorneys more than $733,600 in fees to do that work. Collier and other parole officials said all should have submitted both fee affidavits and annual reports, just like privately retained attorneys. "Before a (parole revocation) hearing starts, the hearing officer makes sure they have a fee affidavit on file," Collier said. "It's up to them to file an annual report."

And even though state officials say the agency is supposed to ensure attorneys' affidavits and annual reports are properly filled out, they acknowledge that has not happened in many cases.

Along with attorneys' mistakes and omissions, the agency's paperwork miscues added to the problems. The annual disclosure forms for 2005 noted that they"must be filed with the Parole Division no later than January 31, 2002." The 2006 forms asked attorneys to list "all offenders whom you have represented since January 1, 2001."

Several attorneys corrected the dates on the forms they filed. Others tried to explain.

"I assume this is an old form," wrote Austin attorney Dan

Green. "If you need info from 2001, please let me know."

Collier and other officials concede the system may not be working as it should.

Gatesville attorney Allen Place Jr., among those who meticulously follow the disclosure law, is a former state representative who wrote changes designed to beef up the law in 1993.

"The purpose of the registration is to know who is doing this work, and, in light of recent events, that need is certainly still there," he said. "But perhaps the fee listing is no longer applicable. What does it really show . . . unless you know how much work went into each case, that all cases are different?"

Gary Cohen, a longtime Austin parole attorney, agrees. Cohen, who discloses fees on affidavits and last year provided no fee detail on his annual report, says the fee disclosure rule is "outdated and redundant" and does little to enlighten the public.

"If the original intent of this law was to keep paroles from being sold . . . it serves no useful purpose now," said Cohen, echoing sentiments of other lawyers. "No place in state law are attorneys required to disclose specific fees like this, and even if you know what someone charges, you still can't make any judgment about whether qualified or reasonable services were provided. . . . In light of recent events, that should be the goal."

Violations by former parole board members and parole employees are a Class A misdemeanor, with a maximum punishment of a year in jail and a $4,000 fine. Violations by attorneys are a Class C misdemeanor, which has a maximum $500 fine.

The Texas Department of Criminal Justice "does not have the authority to enforce compliance," parole officials wrote in an e-mail response to Statesman queries. Responsibility for "submission of an annual representation summary rests with the person who is required to register."

After further consideration, however, Collier said he is not so sure of that and has referred the issue to agency attorneys "to see exactly what authority we have." mward@statesman.com; 445-1712 Find this article at: http://www.statesman.com/news/content/news/stories/local/05/21parole.html