But when he tried to limit his focus to the Jimenez case, he found he couldn't. The beating was a retaliatory act, and the D.A. needed to know that. In fact, the D.A. needed to know everything Poole had uncovered. Poole knew that keeping information out of a criminal report could constitute a crime, obstruction of justice.

Poole ended up producing a 40-page report on the Jimenez matter, plus an eight-page timeline of complaints against Rampart cops. He felt certain his work would provide the district attorney's office with an airtight case to prosecute officers Hewitt, Cohan and Lujan and open up another case against Perez -- as well as trigger a much-needed probe of the Rampart Division.

But Poole's report never saw the light of day. Lt. Hernandez chided Poole for ignoring Parks' instructions. "He said, 'We can't hand this in. The chief doesn't want this,'" Poole recalls. Hernandez ordered Poole to give him the report, and the computer disk it was stored on. (Poole provided a copy to Salon.) His 48-page work was then replaced with a two-page report written by Lt. Hernandez and Detective III Supervisor Ron Ito, which was sent to the D.A.

Poole refused to put his name on it. "I told them, 'I'm not going to be involved in that.' I knew it was wrong, because I had dealt with the D.A.'s office many times on murder cases. You give the D.A. everything -- the good, the bad and the ugly. If I were caught doing that, I'd go to prison for obstruction of justice."

Not surprisingly, given the dearth of evidence in the two-page report, the district attorney's office declined to press criminal charges against officers Hewitt, Lujan and Cohan. Poole then decided to go over his lieutenant's head, complaining to higher-ups, who heard his tale but did nothing. The veteran detective realized the decision had already been made at the top, by Parks himself, a notorious micromanager -- there was no bucking it.

"It was always, 'No, they don't want to go there,' and 'We just want to concentrate on this,'" says Poole. "Fact was, they did not want the stigma of another major scandal, which was in the brewing."

Poole began to feel that his clashes with his superiors were hurting his career. He failed to receive a long-promised promotion to detective level II, despite repeated glowing reviews from supervisors. He left the investigative task force and went back to South Bureau Homicide, where he had spent eight years as a detective. There, he watched quietly as Perez's first trial was bungled and ended in a mistrial in December 1998, and as the D.A.'s office twice rejected filing criminal charges in the Jimenez beating because of a lack of evidence.

Then Perez turned state's evidence before his second trial in September 1999, and Poole watched as the LAPD's pattern of protecting bad cops became a national embarrassment.

The following month, Poole resigned from the department he had served with distinction for 19 years. "The issues and circumstances have to do with how some investigations I was involved in were handled," he wrote in his resignation letter, dated Oct. 25, 1999. "My concerns were addressed to my superiors, but were swept under the rug."

"I was really hurt, betrayed, angry," recalls Poole. "I'd had a year of sleepless nights over this. I couldn't live with the fact that a department I loved for so many years asked me to keep information away from the D.A.'s office. I thought, I'm not going to be put in a position where I have to lie in a court of law. That's why I'm gone -- for the sake of my kids, my family, my own well-being."

Before he left, Poole met with the LAPD's internal affairs office and told it his story. After he left, he went to the D.A.'s office and told it as well. He also supplied prosecutors with his documents.

Now, a year after his resignation, Poole is going public with his charges. He has provided Salon with extensive documentation of his claim that Chief Parks and other top LAPD officials covered up the Rampart scandal and often refused to investigate corrupt police officers.

As Salon went to press, Poole sued Parks, the LAPD and the city of Los Angeles for, among other things, violating his First Amendment rights to publicly report the criminal activity he witnessed, as well as violating state labor statutes protecting whistle-blowers.

Requests for interviews with Chief Parks and other top LAPD brass as well as Parks' co-workers were denied. "Unfortunately, they will be unable to comment due to ongoing investigations," said a department spokesperson. Los Angeles District Attorney Gil Garcetti's office, which has for many months been preparing a conspiracy case against Rampart CRASH cops, also refused to comment on Poole's charges or its pending case. But a number of confidential sources confirmed that the D.A. has Poole's information.

"Russ Poole's day will come," says one knowledgeable source in the Los Angeles legal community, who asked not to be identified. He characterized Poole's allegations as "a mine in the water -- and the chief knows it."

"If [Poole's] information is true, serious charges could result, including indictments for obstruction of justice," says a Los Angeles County official who also asked for anonymity. "That's about as serious as anything that could happen."

Poole's charges are politically explosive because the LAPD and the district attorney's office have been feuding over who's to blame for the Rampart scandal, with each side claiming the other didn't take the warning signs of corruption seriously enough.

In fact, after the Rampart story broke, Chief Parks criticized District Attorney Garcetti for not filing charges against Officer Hewitt for his role in the Jimenez beating. "They [the LAPD] were happy the D.A. rejected that case until Perez spilled his guts," says an incredulous Poole. "Now they're trying to blame Garcetti for not filing a case. Well, I know for a fact the D.A. didn't have all the information. That's why they didn't file charges."

Now the D.A.'s office is seeking additional interviews with Poole about his allegations, says his attorney, Leo Terrell. But for now, Terrell has put them off. After months of waiting for law enforcement officials to act, Poole's busy talking to his legal team and the media. "Now they're threatening him with a subpoena," Terrell chuckles.

It's not the way he imagined it, but Russell Poole is relieved his story is finally being told.

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