The Squeaky Clean G-Man

By JAMES CARNEY/WASHINGTON

As a 10th-grader at a Roman Catholic boys school in New Jersey, Louis Freeh was "very quiet, very serious and very intelligent," recalls his English teacher, Clyde Borg. "Louis did everything he was supposed to do," says Borg. "I don't think he ever got into trouble." Maybe that was part of his plan. By the 10th grade, Freeh had already known for six years that he wanted to work for the FBI.

Freeh (pronounced Free) did become an FBI agent, as well as a federal prosecutor and, two years ago, a federal judge. And last week, even before he arrived at the White House for a sun-soaked Rose Garden ceremony, Freeh was being hailed in a chorus of praise as an ideal choice to be the Federal Bureau of Investigation's next director. In nominating the 43-year-old judge, President Bill Clinton called Freeh "a law-enforcement legend." That sounded like silly hype, except that Clinton's assessment was matched by so many others, including those of Democrats and Republicans, FBI officials and former courtroom adversaries.

Just a day earlier, Clinton became the first President in history to fire an FBI director when he put an end to the tortuous, scandal-plagued tenure of William Sessions with two short phone calls: the first to tell Sessions he was dismissed, the second to add that it was effective immediately. Appointed to a 10-year term in 1987 by Ronald Reagan, Sessions had been under pressure to resign since January, when the Bush Administration's Justice Department released a report accusing him of a range of ethical violations, including misuse of bureau planes and limousines. But Sessions refused to step down. "It was not hard," Clinton said later of the firing, "but it was sad for me."

Freeh was not the first person the President considered, nor is he a member of the President's circle of friends. But after Clinton's original choice, Massachusetts State Judge Richard Stearns, an old Oxford buddy, withdrew from contention, Freeh came so highly recommended to the White House that no one else was ever seriously considered for the job.

Throughout his career, his friends and colleagues say, Freeh has been the straightest of arrows, a diligent worker and devoted family man who remained unpretentious despite his success. "Louie is just a cut above," says Richard Martin, who worked with Freeh as a federal prosecutor. "He has a moral core that really distinguishes him."

A native of Jersey City, New Jersey, Freeh graduated from both college and law school at Rutgers University, then joined the FBI as a field agent. He was a prime investigator in the bureau's successful penetration of waterfront rackets from Miami to Manhattan, once working undercover at a health club to eavesdrop on suspects' conversations. Later, as an Assistant U.S. Attorney, he handled prosecution of the case, which resulted in more than 100 convictions.

Freeh then served as an investigator and chief prosecutor in the famed "pizza connection" case, which ended after a 17-month trial that destroyed an international heroin-smuggling ring run by the Sicilian Mafia. Before being named to the federal bench, Freeh was sent to Atlanta to rescue the floundering investigation of a series of mail bombings that had killed a federal judge and a prominent civil rights lawyer. He wove together an intricate case against the man accused of sending the bombs and gave the closing arguments himself. "It was the single most powerful piece of courtroom advocacy that I have ever witnessed," says Howard Shapiro, who worked on the case with Freeh.

Some critics point out that he does not have the experience to run a bureaucracy the size of the FBI, which employs 20,000 people, but one colleague is not worried. "He has managed cases involving thousands of lawyers, agents and police officers here and abroad," says Bob Bucknam, who helped prosecute the pizza-connection case. Freeh already has a strong basis for support within the bureau: he is the first former agent to head the organization since Clarence Kelley retired in 1978. Freeh's old pals include Larry Potts, head of the criminal-investigations division.

Even so, Freeh, whose confirmation hearings are scheduled this week, will take over an FBI in the midst of a stressful re-evaluation of both its mission and its structure. With the cold war over, the bureau's veteran counterintelligence hands are trying to shift their focus to such areas as the arms trade, industrial espionage and the free-lance terrorism that led to the World Trade Center bombing in February. With street crime proliferating and municipal budgets strained, the FBI is also under pressure to use its agents to back up police forces. But many senior agents would rather be devoting their resources to more complex investigations. And despite Sessions' successful efforts to change recruitment policies, the FBI remains an insular organization dominated by white men.

The broad support for Freeh, inside and outside the bureau, should buy him time to tackle some of these issues before critics start sniping at him. While he has always avoided the spotlight in his career, his earnest, apolitical style should win points with the public. "This is a guy with all the right stuff to bring the bureau into the 21st century," says Bucknam. But all the praise for Freeh's nomination could have a downside. In the end, his biggest challenge may be living up to expectations.

With reporting by Sharon E. Epperson/New York and Elaine Shannon/Washington