The FBI guards its high-tech secrets so carefully that officials once warned agents not to share details even with federal prosecutors for fear they might eventually go on to work as defense attorneys, newly disclosed records show.Meantime, John Pacenti and the PBP have continued to cover the zoo story. The zoo has taken some very strange positions about what information it will release about the tiger and the zookeeper:
A supervisor also cautioned the bureau’s “technically trained agents” in a 2003 memo not to reveal techniques for secretly entering and bugging a suspect’s home to other agents who might be forced to reveal them in court. “We need to protect how our equipment is concealed,” the unnamed supervisor wrote.
The records, released this year as part of a Freedom of Information Act lawsuit, offer a rare view of the extent to which the FBI has sought to keep its most sensitive surveillance capabilities secret, even from others within federal law enforcement. That secrecy remains a common feature of the FBI’s most sophisticated investigations, including recent cases in which it cracked the encrypted iPhone of one of the gunmen in last year’s San Bernardino terror attacks and breached the anonymous Tor computer network.
Zoo spokeswoman Naki Carter declined to answer questions about Konwiser’s death during a news conference Wednesday at which she announced the creation of a fund in her memory and the renaming of the zoo’s annual Save the Tigers 5K race in her honor.
The Palm Beach Post reported Tuesday that the tiger that killed Konwiser is a 13-year-old stud breeder named Hati, one of four at the zoo and one of 250 Malayans in existence. The zoo has declined to identify the tiger, saying that it could place the animal in danger.
Moments after The Post published an online story Tuesday naming Hati as the tiger that killed Konwiser, the zoo released a statement asking that media outlets refrain from identifying the animal.
Finally, Slate crushes the lawyering in the Supreme Court yesterday concerning DUI testing:
The justices of the United States Supreme Court are at their best when united against a common foe. It’s much easier to put aside doctrinal differences and work together when an attorney at the lectern sounds like a clodhopping amateur trying out for the moot court team. On Wednesday, in a critically important Fourth Amendment case, not one but two advocates performed so terribly that the justices effectively gave up and had a conversation among themselves. The result was a deeply uncomfortable 70 minutes during which the clash between state power and individual autonomy took a back seat to jokes about night court and hillbilly judges.