CAREER INFORMANT HAS EARNED MILLIONS

They knew him as ``Rico,'' a slick operator who moved in the seamier
circles of society. He walked the walk of a major cocaine supplier and
talked the talk of big bucks to come.

Now two admitted dealers who trusted him are headed to federal prison,
and two others are awaiting sentencing, in a crack cocaine case that
was built in part on Rico's having worked his way into their world.

All four learned too late that Rico was not what he
seemed.

His real name is Andrew Chambers Jr., and he's wreaking havoc in
courts across the country. Chambers, 42, is a career informant for the
Drug Enforcement Administration - so good at his craft that some say
he's in a class all his own.

A defense attorney in Las Vegas, David Chesnoff, calls him ``the
mother of all snitches'' and estimates he's helped to convict more
than 300 people. An assistant federal public defender in California,
H. Dean Steward, is so appalled at Chambers' history that he's made
unmasking him a crusade. And perhaps most significantly, two federal
appeals courts have called him a liar.

``He's very, very street smart,'' Chesnoff told The Tampa Tribune on
Monday. ``It is easy for him to ingratiate himself. The problem with
Andrew Chambers is that you just never know when he's telling the truth.''

Chambers has become a rallying point for those who criticize the
government's use of paid informants because of their motives and techniques.

``Despite all the documented instances where he has been caught lying,
the DEA still won't get rid of him,'' says Kansas City defense lawyer
Bruce Simon. ``He's made a living off of this.''

Chambers, who has earned more than $2 million and perhaps as much as
$4 million during 14 years as a DEA informant, has been arrested at
least seven times since 1989. The charges, in his hometown of St.
Louis, in Kentucky and in Denver, include making false statements on a
credit application and impersonating a law enforcement officer.

Most of the cases were dismissed, some at the request of the DEA,
court records show. One led to a conviction.

In 1995, while working undercover in Denver, Chambers was accused of
approaching a female officer posing as a prostitute. Police said he
told her ``he wanted some ass for $20.''

When he was arrested, he claimed he was a DEA agent, they said.
Investigators later learned the truth - that he was an informant,
rather than an agent - and Chambers pleaded guilty. He was fined $450,
records show.

More than once, Chambers has sworn under oath that he's never been
arrested. He's also lied about his education, court transcripts show,
and in 1995, admitted on cross-examination that he's paid no income
taxes on his DEA earnings.

When asked in the same trial why the agency continues to use him,
Chambers said, ``I think I'm about the best.''

Chambers casts a shadow over the whole system, outraged attorneys say.
``He represents himself as a concerned citizen,'' Simon argues. ``In
reality, he is a hired gun. He's a perjurer. He's irresponsible and
untrustworthy.''

Simon represented a man implicated in a federal conspiracy case that
involved Chambers. The information gathered on Chambers was all bad,
Simon said. Subsequently Assistant U.S. Attorney Dean Hoag decided not
to use Chambers' testimony. He later called Chambers ``a flim-flam
man.''

Hoag did not return the Tribune's phone calls Monday. His supervisor,
Sam Bertolet, said only, ``This is under investigation at the highest
level of the Department of Justice and we are letting them speak for
us.''

In fact, Justice officials announced last week that the DEA is
suspending its use of Chambers as an informant until it can review
allegations raised by a St. Louis Post- Dispatch expose last month.

``Through the use of informants, we have been able to continue our
success in the fight against crime nationwide,'' the department said
in a written statement. ``That does not, however, mean that it is
appropriate to rely upon every person seeking to provide information
to the DEA.''

In August 1999, the statement also says, DEA instructed agents not to
use Chambers in investigations without the prior approval of
prosecutors.

The Tampa case deals with events between January and December 1998.
All four defendants, facing incriminating evidence beyond Chambers'
involvement, pleaded guilty.

Two were sentenced Monday. Clarence Gissendanner, 23, a former high
school math whiz who said he turned to ``fast money'' after financial
problems forced him to drop out of college, got five years.
Co-defendant James Montgomery was classified as a career criminal
because of previous drug convictions and given 15 years.

Two others, Theodore McCullough and Deborah Hills, will be sentenced
later. Attorneys for all four refused to discuss Chambers.

It was unclear Monday what information, if any, federal prosecutors in
Tampa had about Chambers when they indicted the four. Spokesman Monte
Richardson declined to comment.