AS SETUPS GO, THIS INFORMANT KNOWS HIS ROLE

Insider's work played major role in arrests of 150 drug suspects in big DEA
bust

The 34-year-old man beeped the dealer and arranged to meet at the Erie
Boulevard train station so he could buy cocaine for a Super Bowl party.
Dealer Dennis Ferguson and a partner showed up as scheduled.

"Let's go in the bathroom,'' Ferguson told the buyer.

When Ferguson and his partner yanked open the bathroom door, the dealers
came face to face with a Schenectady police officer. The buyer glared at
Ferguson: "What are you setting me up or something?''

"You're setting me up,'' Ferguson shot back.

Ferguson was right. He was set up by the buyer, a longtime confidential
informant with the Schenectady Police Department.

But the cop needed to act a little himself so as not to give away a
valuable snitch. "Shut up,'' the cop barked at the men as two other
officers and a plainclothes agent from the U.S. Drug Enforcement
Administration converged on the scene. "Put your arms on the wall.''

Police frisked the informant and the two dealers, finding $800 worth of
crack cocaine crammed in the pants of Ferguson's colleague, Malcolm Pope.

The cops continued the ruse by handcuffing their informant. But when he was
in a van away from the other sellers, the handcuffs were removed.

Later that night, Ferguson and Pope were booked, and eventually each ended
up receiving prison sentences of 3 to 6 years, convicted on felony charges
of drug possession. After giving a statement about his performance at the
train station, the informant headed out for a pitcher of beer at the Union
Inn.

In a recent interview, the man detailed that night at the train station,
and police corroborated his version of events. Speaking on condition of
anonymity, the man also provided a rare glimpse into the shadowy world of
the confidential informant.

Police say they use informants because dealers generally know the faces of
local police, and even if they don't they are rarely willing to sell to
someone they haven't seen before. Often, dealers will only sell drugs to
people they trust -- other criminals.

The 34-year-old man responsible for the train station bust was convicted of
unlawful distribution of cocaine in 1991. He was sentenced to three months
in prison, followed by three years on probation. But he violated probation
in 1994 and was sentenced to one year and one day in prison, according to
records from the federal Bureau of Prisons. He was released in March 1995.

When he was released from prison, the man became an informant for
Schenectady police. At first, he just provided information, but eventually
began making undercover drug buys for police.

An Albany native, he was known in Schenectady as a cocaine user, so dealers
did business with him. "They trusted me,'' he said. "They'd say, 'He's
cool.' ''

Why does he do it? For money. "It's always been work,'' he said, sitting on
the bed in his sparse room.

Schenectady police pay as little as $25 to make a buy, but the DEA brings
big money to bear, the man said, doing the money gesture of rubbing his
thumb and fingers together. "In one day,'' he said, "I made $500.''

In the past year and a half, he claims to have made between $7,000 and
$8,000 working as a confidential informant both in Schenectady and
elsewhere in the state. Police say he was a key informant in a 10-month
investigation involving Schenectady police and the DEA's Mobile Enforcement
Team. The probe led to the arrest of 150 defendants on drug charges and
related offenses, and 90 percent of those defendants have pleaded guilty,
police said.

Schenectady Police Sgt. Michael Hamilton said the informant made buys and
provided information leading to the arrest of about 35 of those defendants.

The informant said he has had a hand in the arrest of an additional 15
people and he has made 25 to 30 undercover drug buys.

He's good at it. Hamilton said the man has an excellent memory, allowing
him to rattle off names, addresses and license-plate numbers.

At times, it's a dangerous job. About a year and a half ago, a dealer began
patting him down, looking for a hidden wire, saying, "I been hearing bad
things about you, that you're working with 5-0,'' meaning police.

"What are you talking about?'' the man replied. "How many times have you
seen me?''

"You look like a cop,'' the dealer said.

"What's a cop look like?'' the informant replied. "Gimme my money back.
I'll take my business somewhere else.''

He didn't, and the dealer went to prison for six years on a federal drug
charge, police said.

But the job is getting tougher, in Schenectady at least.

When he's on the street, some people will say, "Here comes Hamilton's
boy.'' And sometimes, dealers will point a finger at him, as if a gun, and
bring their thumbs down like the hammer. The message is clear.

So now he works in other cities. The DEA puts him up in a motel for a night
or two, and he makes undercover buys. Sometimes, he'll work twice in a
week, but at other times, he'll go two or three weeks without working for
the police, he said.

He still feeds Hamilton information. But he doesn't get paid for that work.
He said he does it because he and the sergeant have established a rapport.

When the man was out of a job, Hamilton would lend him $15 or $20 when he
needed it. The man always paid it back, both he and the officer say. "Mike
is like a brother to me,'' the man said. "I could call him any time of of
night, and he'd be there. I could call him at 4 a.m.''

The man said he stopped using cocaine four years ago. He said Hamilton
wouldn't work with him if he did use drugs. "Mike doesn't (expletive)
around with drugs,'' he said.

As the conversation wore down, the man headed toward a pay phone. He had
seen a couple of suspicious houses earlier in the day, and he planned on
giving the addresses to Hamilton.

"You arrest five, and there's 10 more that come out on the street,'' the
man said.