Poulsen's conversations with me broke a media silence that extended almost back to his initial arrest in 1988. For whatever reason, and possibly because he and Meltzer haven't been talking, mainstream press reports had been portraying him as everything from an entity called a "communist hacker" to the leader of an underground computer pirate group. Goofy articles would frequently and puzzlingly give Poulsen what he called "generous promotions" in his work title in order to make the charges against him seen more plausible. His final title in 1988 after a promotion and a switch of companies was "Computer Systems Administrator" not "Corporate Security Specialist," nor any of the other erroneous, if poetic, titles accorded him at various times. During one of our conversations, he became hesitant when he found out that I had once written some unrelated articles for the deservedly defunct Peninsula Times Tribune, of Palo Alto, CA, among the worst fabricators of what he calls fictitious articles abut him. My own suggestion about the source of all the bad press for Poulsen is probably just lazy journalism on the part of reporters too ignorant of hi-tech realities to do anything but regurgitate the press releases faxed them by the U.S. Attorney's Office.

Since the bulk of the question marks about this case revolve around security establishment conduct and not many people are claiming Poulsen didn't do many of the things of which he rots accused - "stands accused" would be an inaccurate way to complete the clichˇ - perhaps it would be useful to list some of the amazing electronic feats with which the alleged phone phreak is accused (all those who fit the cracker/nerd stereotype: prepare to swell up your rib cages that pose as chests with pride).

Among the other charges against Poulsen in the two indictments, the following are a couple which could earn him some significant extra time behind bars, if only for messing so brashly with the security establishment's collective ego: Count 9 of the San Francisco indictment and Count 4 of the L.A. indictment accuse Poulsen, essentially, of compiling dossiers on the FBI agents and Pac Bell security investigators who were investigating him by way of, get this, wire tapping their phone conversations. In some circles, this is known as Payback, and Meltzer, in his pretrial defense motions, was not ignorant of this reality. Claiming he had reason to believe that not only everyone associated with Kevin Poulsen professionally and personally has been the subject of government surveillance, but possibly his office too, he demanded acknowledgment of any such monitoring. But because he said, "The loopholes are bigger than the laws" on disclosure, the request was denied. All three of us couldn't help noticing, during an August conference call, the unnerving clicks and beeps which accompanied the prison sounds in the background. None of our phones indicated call waiting.

Poulsen's machinations allegedly took place from a computer set up in his Menlo Park apartment from 1986-88. This was a system of terminals, monitors, modems, and allegedly hot Pac Bell equipment (including a public pay phone) so sophisticated that a sign gracing the entranceway identified it as the "Switchroom."

The alleged burglaries and break-ins used to secure certain phone access code books are not addressed specifically in the indictments, but fall under the "overt acts" in the "Conspiracy" charge, which is Count One of the San Francisco indictment. Poulsen allegedly developed computer programs to access various Pac Bell Systems such as the COSMOS and PREMIS systems in order to detect test numbers and out-of-service numbers, and then set up and maneuver his own phone lines. In his naive cockiness, Kevin evidently took some photos of himself breaking into and inside a GTE facility, pictures since sequestered by authorities. The amateurish photos show a brown-haired kid, hair down his neck, looking surreptitiously sideways from the camera while lurking in front of some zaftig machines.

The are plenty of other charges as well, too numerous to list. The usual assortment of fictitious name and mail fraud charges are all in there, and even good ol' "causing an act to be done" in the second indictment, stemming from Poulsen's phone call from prison to his sister, Debbie, in L.A., during which he allegedly instructed her, in code, to clear out his apartment of incriminating materials. Yup, I guess they can't charge everybody.

Poulsen and former co-defendant Robert Gilligan, who has since plead guilty with probation in exchange for testimony against Kevin in the San Francisco indictment, also allegedly set up dummy phone lines and forged credit card accounts to bankroll and disguise illicit phone use. If all of this weren't enough, Mr. Dante is looking at "enhancement" sentencing on the espionage and other charges, since his security clearance and work activity at the Silicon Valley firms of SRI and Sun Microsystems supposedly granted him access to sensitive materials, which privilege he allegedly misused in securing the Caber Dragon Air Force Air Tasking Orders. Prosecution assertions in the court documents maintain that Sun Microsystems of Mountain View, CA, Poulsen's place of employment at the time of his Menlo Park arrest, was contracted to develop a computer system to be used by the 18th Airborne Corps Battlefield Control Element, Ft. Bragg. A San Jose Mercury News article from May 27, 1991 quotes "a source familiar to (SRI's) program" as describing Poulsen's duties as including, "a sensitive experiment to test the vulnerability of Pentagon computers."

"They'd like to put him away for a long, long time," Meltzer said. "Yet Kevin Poulsen never cost the government one dime."

Indeed, a Pacific Bell investigator quoted in that same Mercury News piece; one completed, like most, without comment from Kevin or his attorney, actually described Poulsen's actions as having the "...potential for damage." (my italics)

The likes of the San Francisco U.S. Attorney's Office and the Unsolved Mysteries people eagerly cite an anecdote which occurred after Kevin was arrested most recently outside the Van Nuys Hugh's store, and which is supposed to justify his status as an "extreme escape risk": After being released from the bag boy's strangle hold on April 11, 1991, Kevin evidently began "weeping" in front of the baffled but jubilant agents. He then claimed that the tears and stress were fogging up his contacts and requested his glasses case, tucked in his pocket. One of the agents, as humane as any member of Today's FBI yet a stickler for regulations, agreed, the law-and-order side of the story goes, on the condition that he could check the glasses case out first. When he did, the agent supposedly found a handcuff key in a compartment at the bottom of the case. That's the kind of maneuver that lands one in an Alameda County Jail with cellmates who don't live in Mr. Roger's neighborhood. Poulsen, by the way, is being held in a County Jail (the one that serves Oakland) as a favor to the feds, until after his trial.

A San Jose police officer who I stopped on the street out of curiosity told me he believed that all handcuff keys are "basically the same." For such a simple question, he sure looked at me suspiciously.

The manner in which Poulsen was caught in the first place, before he became a fugitive, and the resulting Orwellian Keystone Cop enforcement shenanigans are central focal points of the defense strategy in the case: it all started at a not-so-secure storage facility in Menlo Park. On Feb. 2, 1988, Kevin showed up at the Menlo Atherton Storage complex to negotiate a payment schedule for a $207 invoice he had received from the operators of the facility. The parties entered into a new (and written) contract that day after Poulsen paid some of the money he owed. The agreement stated that Poulsen (who had held the account under the name John Anderson for over six months), had until Feb. 16 to pay the balance on locker 1-219. Yet for some reason, the operator of the storage place, an ex-cop named Larry Tyson, broke into Poulsen's locker ("the first time I ever did that") on February 8, and "discovered" an array of large equipment units, those spools of tape that operate on Really Big Computers , and lots of other gunk that clearly belonged to the phone company and SRI. This was not a locker used to store overflow furniture from the college dorm, or outdated "The Clash: Combat Rock" posters. One mainstream news report from the time of the arrest said even the lock was Pacific Bell property.

At different points in my 10-minute conversation with storage operator Tyson, he claimed, a) that he was unaware of a new contract (which is on file with the court records in San Jose - see sidebar) that gave Poulsen the 14-day storage extension and b) since he had discovered Poulsen was using a fake name and address, he considered the contract void.

The clincher in all of this is that whether or not Tyson is guilty of violating a nickel and dime business arrangement with Poulsen, the police officially had nothing to do with it, so the subsequent search (warrantless) of the locker is as legal as martinis for Congressmen. John von Brauch, a Pacific Bell security guy and another ex-cop who plays as prominent a role in the Poulsen case as any real police officer or FBI agent, was on the scene quicker than you can say "$3 per month for call waiting", which is interesting, since technically, he is just a private citizen. (A big but moot question is why Kevin even talked to von Brauch, let alone the police, after his arrest and without an attorney). I thought I was seeing things when I later discovered that in addition to being a former cop and security investigator, von Brauch is also an actor: he appears, playing himself and uttering quotes suspiciously related to the case, during the first Poulsen Unsolved Mysteries renactments. "I've known von Brauch was a good actor ever since I heard him testify at the (pretrial) hearings," Poulsen said matter-of-factly from prison. Poulsen told me that at the most recent hearing, von Brauch said that at the time of the storage room break-in, he "was familiar" with the as-yet uncharged Poulsen, which makes me scratch my head as I contemplate the motivation for that unexplainable early crow-bar job by ex-cop Tyson. Could it be a case of, "Whoops! Look what I found. Better call the cops and the Pac Bell Security Man..."?

No one seems to be able to explain what cause von Brauch had to investigate Kevin before the discovery of the storage locker's contents, especially since he told me that he is a burglary, not a hi-tech investigator, for Pacific Bell. That means it would be unlikely that he was "on to" any of Kevin's alleged phone line activities.

From there, the issue of law enforcement conduct just gets murkier. There are so many lingering questions on the procedure surrounding Poulsen's arrest and the subsequent search of computer tapes found in the store room, that this whole section should be labeled with a big "?" First there is the issue of Poulsen's granting the Menlo Park police (with von Brauch in tow) permission to search his 1055 Pine Street apartment without his attorney. The transcript of the interrogation clearly shows Poulsen twice refused the police "requests", before finally succumbing after threat of immediate imprisonment in what he told his roommate during his prison phone call is the "terrible" Redwood City Jail. Why the heck was von Brauch at the interrogation, anyway? The transcript indicated that when Officer Neal of the Menlo Park Police asked Kevin (who, earlier in the conversation had congratulated Neal on his promotion from traffic cop: they knew each other), "...would you be willing to have me take a look at the equipment that you have at your home?" Poulsen responded, "I wouldn't want to give you permission to search my place, if that's what you're saying." (see sidebar) To be complete, it should be mentioned that when Kevin finally granted the police request, it wasn't like his genitals were shoved into electric sockets or anything. Officer Neal asked if he was sure, and stated that he didn't want to pressure him into anything.

A subsequent warrant was granted almost solely on the affidavit of the ex-cop von Brauch (who had, according to court records, "aggressiveness" problems when he had served on the Oakland police), and who had a vested interest in the property as a Pacific Bell employee. A member of the cop fraternity giving a judge statements which result in a warrant in which the testifying ex-cop has a professional interest? Huh? Can that happen? Does it? You bet.

You might want to ask yourself if an ex-cop, even without a personal interest in the case, isn't going to help another cop or FBI agent by saying whatever needs to be said in order to get a search warrant granted by a judge (who the percentages say is going to be very amenable to such a request anyway). Court documents indicate defense accusations of factual inaccuracies in von Brauch's affidavit which resulted in the warrant for the follow-up search of Poulsen's apartment.

Despite all of this, Meltzer termed the already-approved search warrant situation futile as a line of defense since in this area, too, "it seems clear to me, but unfortunately the law on this is not very good."