Law: In Hot Water? Call Hundley

Behind Korea’s Park is a top Washington defense attorney

When Tongsun Park touches down in Washington this week for his rendezvous with congressional Koreagate probers, he will have few legal problems to fear. Attorney William G. Hundley, a wry, wisecracking former Justice Department crime fighter, has arranged full immunity from prosecution for Park in return for his testimony in criminal proceedings. If Park testifies truthfully before congressional committees, he will return to Korea a free man, largely as the result of Hundley’s hard bargaining.

The Park deal explains why Hundley, 52, a gregarious Irishman with a Flatbush accent, is beginning to rival Edward Bennett Williams as the capital’s top criminal defense attorney. A spiffy dresser who favors loud sports coats, Hundley is on good terms with the Washington press corps. He also can draw on invaluable friendships and expertise accumulated during 16 years as a Justice Department lawyer. His contacts can help him tell where an inquiry is heading, and his experience and instincts help him to detect when a prosecutor is bluffing.

Hundley has defended former Attorney General John Mitchell; Democratic Fund Raiser W. Dale Hess, one of the figures in the corruption trial starring Maryland Governor Marvin Mandel; Gulf Oil Lobbyist Claude C. Wild Jr.; a number of FBI agents implicated in illegal searches; and even, briefly, Richard Nixon.

Hundley vaulted into prominence during the long Watergate cover-up trial. He acquired near hero status among fellow smokers by regularly offering a plausible reason for a recess, even though all he really wanted was a cigarette. Once, when he was representing Mitchell, Judge John Sirica angrily threatened to clear the courtroom after an outburst of laughter. Deadpanned Hundley, whose client was having a particularly bad day: “How do you feel about crying, Judge?” Spectators roared, and Sirica relaxed.

A liberal Democrat who campaigned for Robert Kennedy and George McGovern, Hundley was as astonished as the rest of the Washington legal community when Mitchell hired him. But the two got along well. When Nixon’s current Washington attorney, Herbert J. Miller, was unable to represent Nixon in the so-called Kissinger wiretap case, he passed the assignment along to Hundley. One of Hundley’s six children protested: “Representing Mitchell was bad enough, but defending Nixon is embarrassing us at school.” The dilemma was resolved after a few months when the Justice Department took over Nixon’s defense.

Hundley left Brooklyn to win a Bronze Star during World War II and took his law degree from Fordham in 1950. After a year with a Wall Street firm, he joined the Justice Department, later prosecuting Smith Act cases for the Internal Security Division. Of his Communist-hunting days, Hundley is rueful: “I try to skip over that period.” In 1967 Hundley left for private practice, gradually building a solid six-figure income in partnership with former Justice Department Colleague Plato Cacheris. Their old boss, onetime Criminal Division Chief Henry Petersen, who was badly tarnished by Watergate, shares office space with them. Says a friend: “They had talked about it before Watergate, and Bill wouldn’t go back on his word after Henry was muddied.”

Does Hundley suffer qualms when forcefully plumping for men charged with violating a public trust? “Well, no choirboys have ever walked into this office,” he told TIME Correspondent Hays Gorey. “Everyone is entitled to the best defense he can get, and I try not to get too involved personally.” Then, after a moment’s thought, Hundley chuckled: “The worst defense lawyers I know are those who become convinced their clients are innocent.”