MAYOR'S DETECTIVE WORK COMES UP EMPTY

Julie Hamilton spent two nights in jail earlier this month because
somebody littered on her south side street.

Unfortunately for her, it was Mayor John Norquist who discovered the
discarded plastic bag three doors from Hamilton's home and concluded
it was used to traffic drugs.

The crime-busting mayor, interrupting his daily jog, immediately
decided it was time to clean up his neighborhood.

He identified the duplex where Hamilton lives as a center of local
drug activity and called police.

Only one problem: Within hours, a lab analysis turned up no drug
residue or fingerprints on the sandwich bag.

No matter. Officers visited Hamilton's apartment four times over four
days, and about a dozen cops took part in two extensive searches of
the place.

What did they find in her five-room, upstairs apartment? Not a thing.
No crack, no cocaine, not even a joint.

The results were the same for the downstairs apartment. Police found
no evidence of drugs. But it wasn't all for naught. The second search
team, consisting of four cops and a detective, found a municipal
warrant against Hamilton for failing to pay a $148 fine on a 1997
traffic conviction and a probation violation for a misdemeanor
conviction not involving drugs.

She was carted away to jail and released two days later, on March 3.
No charges were filed.

In addition to Hamilton, the police picked up two of her friends on
old warrants.

The arrests had Norquist claiming his detective work had produced
results.

"It was good they went over there," he said. "I live in a neighborhood
where people want the neighborhood to improve. It's tough."

But the mayor, who lives about three blocks from Hamilton, didn't
exactly use traditional sleuthing techniques to finger the source of
the alleged contraband. He said he ID'd her duplex because it "is very
unpopular with the neighbors."

Hamilton, 30, said she did not understand why the mayor singled her
out for suspicion. She noted that she has seven children and that some
of her eight siblings live in the area, creating heavy traffic at her
apartment.

She has lived at the two-story duplex for three months.

"Just because we'll wear baggy clothes, and have our hats sideways . .
. You know what, we're not all bad people."

Hamilton, who wasn't told who filed the complaint, said she agreed to
the searches because she knew there were no drugs in her apartment.

She did acknowledge that she initially lied to police by telling them
her name was "Sparkle Works." She told cops that she used the
fictitious name because she had been evicted from a previous apartment
for failing to pay rent.

Her current landlord, Manojlo Verzich, said he has had no problems
with Hamilton. Verzich, who has owned the duplex for about 10 years,
said Norquist should focus his attention on other parts of the
neighborhood.

"The mayor doesn't have enough to do," he said.

Norquist discovered the empty plastic bag in front of 712 S. 26th St.
on Feb. 24, according to internal police memos.

Norquist's bodyguard turned over the item to city police, and she
informed officers that the mayor believed it came from someone living
at the duplex at 730-732 S. 26th St.

The police officers made their initial visit to the duplex two days

later. Twice, no one was home in Hamilton's unit.

Hamilton complained about the attitude and actions of the cops during
the searches, saying they removed but didn't replace ceiling tiles and
handcuffed her in front of her children.

She estimated that a half-dozen officers spent 30 minutes at her place
during the first visit. Two days later, she said, cops spent more than
1 1/2 hours going through her apartment.

"It was the two worst days of my life," Hamilton said, referring to
her arrest and time in jail.

Veteran officers are quietly chuckling about the whole ordeal.
Complaints from regular people who find empty plastic bags, they say,
do not generally merit serious attention from officers inundated with
drug cases.

But that's not the official police line.

Under programs instituted by police Chief Art Jones, officers promptly
respond to citizen complaints of drug activity, said police
spokeswoman Lt. Anna Ruzinski.

"The fact that it came from the mayor doesn't make it any less or any
more credible," Ruzinski said. "We react the same to all of those
complaints."

Norquist said he believes that his complaint didn't receive special
attention, even though he tapped Jones to be the city's top cop.

Said Hizzoner: "They should do this for any citizen."

Back to work: After years of trading accusations of wrongdoing --
claims that became so serious that the judge cryptically expressed
fears of personal safety -- everybody involved in the Lofberg's Inc.
case has been told to shut up and finish what started out as a routine
piece of litigation.

That, in a nutshell, is the conclusion reached by attorneys John
Thomure Jr. and Martin Kohler, who will be paid up to $50,000 for
investigating the case to divide the assets of the defunct Wisconsin
grocery store chain.

(The estate has only $125,000 and owes more than $6 million. Lawyers
are submitting bills of more than $250,000.)

Among the charges was a claim that $1.3 million could not be accounted
for. There was also a litany of allegations concerning conflicts of
interest and other improper actions by lawyers.

Judge Jacqueline Schellinger resigned from the case last July,
partially because she feared that one of the lawyers would be found
guilty of unspecified wrongdoing. Before quitting the case, she took
the rare move of hiring outside attorneys to investigate the case for
fraud.

But, in the end, Thomure and Kohler concluded the charges amounted to
"an empty vessel cabined in the paranoid world of conspiracy theory."

The money was never missing -- unusual, but legal, bookkeeping
practices by Lofberg's just made it hard to find.

George's junket: During his recent 10-day jaunt to India, the governor
was accompanied by business representatives, trade officials,
educators and one state lawmaker -- Sen. Gary George.

A spokesman for the Milwaukee Democrat said George was invited to make
the trip by Marshall Goodman, dean of the University of
Wisconsin-Milwaukee's College of Letters and Science.

Most participants in the trade mission paid their own way, but a
Senate committee agreed to have taxpayers pick up the $3,800 tab for
George's travel expenses.