(This
column was published in the North
Shore News on
June 17, 1998)
Head of CLEU
should step down
By Leo Knight
LAST week's arrest of Philip Tsang Chiu Ping, a special constable assigned to the Coordinated Law Enforcement Unit (CLEU), sent shockwaves through the organization itself and the police community in general.
Tsang, 41, was hired in 1993 along with two others who emanated from Hong Kong's policing community, amid much fanfare from officials within the attorney general's ministry, particularly, CLEU director Peter Engstad.
Officers within CLEU were more restrained.
Engstad is a life-long bureaucrat. He is formerly the "policy analysis supervisor" at CLEU. That's an administrative position, nothing more. It determines how money should be spent and other such bureaucratic niceties.
Somehow in 1987, Engstad, who I'm sure is a marvellous paper-pusher, got himself appointed as the director of CLEU. A civilian running intricate, complex police investigations.
For those of you who don't know, CLEU is a Joint Forces Operation, (JFO) funded in part by the provincial government and in part by the RCMP and all municipal police forces in the province.
It was formed in 1974 to fight organized criminal elements. They needed to transcend the traditional boundaries of jurisdiction.
They began conducting long-term, complex and intricate investigations into things like major drug importing conspiracies. They racked up a number of successes such as "Sparky" Simpson and William "Fats" Robertson.
In those days a police inspector named Andy Andrasic ran the organization with an iron fist, a soft heart and a keen mind. But he was a cop's cop.
Very much unlike Engstad, the paper-pusher.
In 1987, following Engstad's promotion, the last good inspector assigned to CLEU, Ron Foyle, was forced out of his position. Since then, CLEU has been decidedly ineffective. Except for the Asian organized crime section, which has been a bright light.
Engstad, in the meantime, set about solidifying his position.
The officers assigned to CLEU said he wanted to play policeman. In fact, in November 1989, he wrote a letter to the assistant deputy attorney general requesting an appointment as a special constable.
He said in the letter that he was privy to sensitive information from wiretap investigations and as a civilian that could put him in contravention of the Criminal Code.
Skeptical officers assigned to CLEU at the time said there were no legal difficulties and suggested among themselves that Engstad just wanted a badge to play "little boy policeman."
In December of the same year, senior bureaucrats granted Engstad's request and gave him a badge as a provincial special constable.
Then started a period where police departments and RCMP detachments began using CLEU as a dumping ground for officers who were not fitting in other positions.
In the 1994 commission on policing, Mr. Justice Wally Oppal identified this as a specific problem with the organization.
This is not to say all the officers assigned to CLEU fit in this category. Far from it. But, when CLEU started and prior to Engstad's takeover, CLEU was a place for the best and the brightest.
No longer.
Engstad is now trying to lobby for a dress uniform for himself to wear when he attends formal, official police functions, such as the annual Vancouver Police Ball.
The official word from the AG is no decision has yet been made on a uniform for special constables from CLEU, of which there are 18 including Engstad.
But, make no mistake about it, Engstad is the one who wants a uniform. He must really feel left out in a tux among all the real policemen.
This brings me back to Tsang.
Tsang and his two colleagues were brought into the organization in 1993. Privately they were called the "Asian Dream Team." This was largely because of the treatment they got from Engstad.
At the time, they were introduced as having been recruited specially from Hong Kong, as a unique and new tool in the fight against organized crime in the form of Asian gangs. Special guys with special expertise were now available to our investigators. Engstad was in his glory.
Since the arrest of Tsang, media investigations have shown he arrived here in 1982, not 1993 as was alluded to by Engstad. He apparently drove a cab for over a decade before being recruited into CLEU.
In a confidential chat I had with officers involved in the pre-hiring background check of Tsang, I was told they began finding "disturbing" information.
They were ordered to back off and complete their investigation report. Essentially, they were shut down. Why? Whether or not Engstad personally shut-down the check, it happened on his watch. And there's no doubt he wanted an Asian Dream Team, just as he wanted a badge.
Now we learn that Tsang has been arrested after a nine-month-long investigation. He is charged with criminal breach of trust, counselling to commit an offence (perjury) and obstruction of justice.
Would any of this have happened if the background investigation was allowed to proceed? Would Tsang have been hired?
How could he be passed off realistically as an expert on anything to do with the job he was hired to do given his time as a cabbie?
But this issue was hidden from the public and from his co-workers.
Privately, officers in CLEU describe Engstad as "J. Edgar Hoover." They have little or no respect for him.
Given the Tsang fiasco, and the way he has handled his position, especially in apparently misleading the public before and after the Tsang story broke, Engstad should be relieved of his job, forthwith.
Someone has to be answerable and, at the very least, he was in charge. He must be accountable.
Anything less is an abdication of responsibility by the attorney general who has announced a blue ribbon team to review how we, as a society, handle the fight against organized crime.
The AG, Ujjal Dosanjh, said this committee has nothing to do with the Tsang case. VPD spokesman, Anne Drennan confirmed this to me.
OK, I'll buy that. But the fact remains that the authorities have been singularly ineffective recently in fighting organized crime in BC.
CLEU has been given a black eye over this, one the officers who do the work don't deserve. Neither, I might add, do the other two officers who were hired with Tsang.
Engstad. He's another matter altogether.