’Hero’ officer staged suicide, embezzled from youth program
FOX LAKE, Ill. – For weeks, investigators said they were searching for the killers of a small-town police officer known as “G.I. Joe.” Thousands attended the funeral of Fox Lake Police Lt. Charles Joseph Gliniewicz. Many lauded him as a hero, the latest law enforcer to die at a time when police feel under attack.
But after an intense and costly manhunt for three phantom suspects came up empty, investigators realized he was something else: A small-time embezzler, who meticulously staged his death to make it look like he was slain in the line of duty.
In fact, the 30-year police veteran killed himself on Sept. 1 because his theft of thousands of dollars from a youth program was about to be exposed, authorities revealed Wednesday.
“Gliniewicz committed the ultimate betrayal,” announced Lake County Major Crimes Task Force Commander George Filenko, who endured blistering questions from skeptical journalists about his handling of the two-month investigation. “We completely believed from day one that this was a homicide.”
Recovered text messages and other records now show Gliniewicz embezzled from the village’s Police Explorer program for seven years, spending the money on mortgage payments, travel expenses, gym memberships, adult websites and loans to friends, Filenko said.
“We have determined this staged suicide was the end result of extensive criminal acts that Gliniewicz had been committing,” he said.
Filenko said he could not reveal more details about these crimes because “the investigation strongly suggests criminal activity on the part of at least two other individuals.”
The revelation shocked people in Fox Lake, a village of 10,000 about 50 miles north of Chicago where the 52-year-old married father of four had long been a role model.
“He was a great guy. I looked up to him. I am really upset about this. It really opens your eyes up,” said Tim Pederson, 22, who was an explorer under Gliniewicz and now works as a corrections officer.
Minutes before he died, Gliniewicz radioed that he was chasing three suspicious men into a swampy area. Backup officers followed a trail of equipment to the Army veteran’s body, about 50 yards from his squad car.
The first bullet from his handgun had struck his cell phone and ballistic vest. The second pierced his upper chest. His head was scraped and bruised, although the coroner said that could have been intentional. The swampy terrain was otherwise undisturbed, and his gun wasn’t found for more than an hour, even though it was less than three feet from the body, Filenko said.
By then, an intense manhunt had begun and was growing quickly, with hundreds of officers searching houses, cabins and even boats on area lakes. Helicopters with heat-sensing scanners and K-9 units scoured the area for days. Some 50 suburban Chicago police departments and sheriff’s offices assisted, racking up more than $300,000 in overtime and other costs, according to an analysis the Daily Herald published in early October.
More than 100 investigators stayed on the case for weeks, even after questions arose. The vague description Gliniewicz had radioed in – two white men and a black man – didn’t help. No one was ever arrested.