There Goes The Judge

WITH HIS PHOTO-OP JAW, LUSTROUS CREST OF HAIR and baritone voice, Sol Wachtler could have played a judge on television if he had not actually been one. As chief judge of the New York Court of Appeals, Wachtler headed one of the nation's most influential state courts. State Republican leaders wanted him to challenge Mario Cuomo if the New York Governor chose to run again in 1994. But nobody is talking much about Wachtler's political future any longer. It's hard to envision the campaign trail of a man under house arrest.

On Nov. 7, a seven-week FBI investigation ended with Wachtler, 62, under arrest for blackmail and attempted extortion. He is accused of bombarding his ex-mistress Joy Silverman, 45, a wealthy Republican fund raiser, with a lengthy series of anonymous letters and phone calls that included a demand for $20,000 and a threat to kidnap her 14-year-old daughter. Wachtler, who has now resigned his judgeship, remains confined by court order to the Long Island condo he shares with his wife of 40 years, Joan.

In the 1980s Silverman and her husband Jeffrey, a New York City industrialist, became major donors to Republican candidates. A grateful George Bush nominated her in 1989 to become ambassador to Barbados but withdrew her name after the Senate, amid complaints about G.O.P. contributors buying ambassadorships, balked at approving a woman with no college degree. Wachtler became friendly with Silverman in 1984, when he helped to handle her stepfather's disputed will. After a lengthy affair with the judge that ended about a year ago, Silverman began a relationship with David Samson, a New Jersey lawyer. In April the anonymous letters started. One claimed that the writer had embarrassing tapes and pictures of her with Samson and demanded $20,000. A lewd greeting card, sent directly to her daughter, was accompanied by a condom.

Silverman went straight to FBI Director William Sessions. As a sizable contributor to Republican campaigns, she may have assumed that she could air her troubles at the highest levels. She also reportedly had no idea that the threats came from her old lover. The bureau eventually put 80 agents on the case and traced calls to Wachtler's car phone.

Wachtler's lawyer is hoping to work out a plea that will keep his client out of jail. Looking back on his career, Wachtler once observed that it took about three years for a politician to become a real jurist. "Only then," he said, "do you stop thinking every Election Day about what might have been." It's a thought that will probably haunt him again.