On The Take:
From Petty Crooks to Presidents
by William J. Chambliss
Indiana University Press
William Chambliss turns academics into adventure in this book about Seattle corruption in the 1960s and 70s. Essentially a sociological study, the book is also a roller-coaster account of Chambliss' undercover participation in Seattle's seamy underside of illegal card games, pinball scams, and a massive system of police payoffs and media coverups. It is also a chronicle of a pivotal period in local and national crime and politics. Originally published in 1978, the book was reprinted in 1988 and is still available by order at bookstores.
Using events that occurred mostly in downtown Seattle, Chambliss argues that the roots of graft were in laws that were selectively enforced. For instance, topless clubs were required by pious local law to have an extremely large square footage of floor space in order to operate, i.e. the customers shouldn't get too close to the dancers. Chambliss asserts that since none of the many topless clubs in the area met this legal standard, any club that wanted to continue operating would have to give a payoff to a police "bagman" who would visit monthly, take his small cut, and funnel the rest to police, business, and political leaders. Similar situations existed for tavern owners and operators of card and bingo halls. Individuals who resisted the payoffs were greeted by code inspectors, thugs, or simply busted by the police to demonstrate that the vice squad wasn't always in the donut shop.
So why didn't anyone go running to the newspapers to expose these schemes? Some of the most fascinating assertions in the book involve the complicity of Seattle's two daily newspapers with the crime network. Some newsmen received gifts from crime network figures, and according to Chambliss, at least one of the city dailies received low property tax assessments in exchange for squelching news of local corruption. Don Duncan, a longtime Seattle Times reporter whose journalistic investigations closely paralleled those of Chambliss, told Chambliss that he had been unable to get his investigative stories published in the Times, and that he had been told to quit his "yellow journalism". One local investigative newsmagazine, Seattle, a venture financed by KING Broadcasting, dared to print a story detailing the relations of Ben Cichy, a pinball magnate and payoff figure, who allegedly visited county prosecutor Charles Carroll's house on the first of every month. Major advertisers cancelled, newsstands refused to sell the magazine, and KING owners put pressure on the editor to back off. Soon after, the magazine went out of business, and Cichy himself wound up drowned near his house before an official investigation was completed.
Surprisingly, the institution most responsible for cracking the crime network was not the media, but - don't fall off your chair - Richard Nixon and the Republicans. Chambliss contends that nationally, until the 1970s, nearly all campaign contributions from crime networks went to Democrat politicians, and that Nixon was determined to turn the tables. Chambliss' book gives an account of how this political move repercussed on Washington State in the form of personnel purges in the Seattle Police Department and eventual reportage in the daily papers of some aspects of graft.
An intriguing conclusion of Chambliss' is that "as long as providing things that are heavily in demand is illegal, then...crime networks of one sort or another are inevitable.." Chambliss argues for decriminalization of "vice" both because of its inevitability and because of the need for orderly legal processes for all businesses. When business is illegal, it cannot resort to courts to solve disputes; so it solves them instead through violence.
In fact, some of what Chambliss suggests has become fact in Washington. With pull-tabs, lotto, and casinos, gambling has become legal, and perhaps too accessible. Furthermore, it's a huge revenue source for the state rather than for crime network leaders. According to Don Duncan, now retired from the Times, the Seattle Police Department is also comparatively cleaner than a generation ago: "The cops nowadays are doggone clean. They probably wouldn't even fix a parking ticket for a friend." Well, maybe for Bill Gates.