Premier Gordon Campbell was called "Caesar;" his chief of staff Martyn Brown "the Little Dictator;" lobbyist Bruce Clark "the Mexeecan," and fellow lobbyist Erik Bornman "the Baron."

Seven years after an unprecedented raid on the legislature and an aborted trial, the public finally got an uncensored view of the backroom shenanigans that occurred in the controversial $1-billion sale of BC Rail assets in 2003.

It's not a pretty panorama.

The transcripts of thousands of intercepted telephone conversations, interviews with key witnesses and police investigative reports released by B.C. Supreme Court on Thursday read like episodes of television's Boardwalk Empire or The Sopranos.

Need a prostitute? How about a celebratory big-ticket dinner, hot-tub, cigars and wine -all on a corporate client who doesn't know any better?

How about a political job?

"Who's your daddy? Do I come through?" disgraced bureaucrat Dave Basi crowed.

There are no major revelations in terms of the breachof-trust charges in the newly released documents, but the sleaze drips off hundreds of pages, as does the profanity.

Only two men were convicted -Basi, 44, and Bob Virk, 36, pleaded guilty Oct. 18 to two counts each of breach of trust and accepting benefits in exchange for leaking confidential information about the railroad bidding process. They were sentenced to two years less a day of house arrest.

The audacity and hubris of the convicted former civil servants and their lobbyist pals as revealed in the four thick volumes of material is staggering.

The erstwhile ministerial aides gave not a second thought to their oath of office or government confidentiality.

"You sure you don't have any documents, man?" Basi said in one intercept towards the end. "You wanted me to seal the deal, I've sealed the deal now. You must have some other papers beside the paper you already gave me."

Virk had provided so many private documents he replied: "I can't even remember what I gave you, seriously."

They schemed and talked of manipulating federal and provincial ministers, revelling in a breathtaking culture of political cronyism and unethical behaviour.

In fact, those who thought politicians like ex-finance minister Gary Collins or Liberal leadership hopeful Christy Clark (the lobbyist's sister) might have been involved may rest easy for no other reason than that these fellows had too much disdain for politicians to cut them in.

They didn't even have that much respect for each other if they weren't in the room -they misled each other as easily as the people they were playing.

There was no honour among this crew.

The police investigation dubbed Project Everywhichway began in May 2002 as a drug investigation but quickly morphed and sprawled to include anti-corruption and breach-oftrust cases.

It climaxed dramatically in December 2003, when the Mounties raided the legislature, lobbyists' offices and other locations.

The investigation captured calls between Basi and drugdealing friends along with a treasure-trove of Victoria gossip and hearsay.

Just about everyone hated lobbyist Clark.

"You're the one that got in bed with him," Virk complained.

"Yeah, well it's better me than you," Basi replied.

There was little beneath them.

Basi even lined up a prostitute as a political favour.

"She'll be putting out like you wouldn't believe, pal," he boasted. "I'll say, 'Look, keep that guy happy.'"

Lobbyists Brian Kieran, the "fat little buddy," and Baron Bornman, who both were to be Crown witnesses had the trial proceeded, figure prominently.

Bornman started making monthly cash payments to Basi in April 2001 for referring clients and other help for his firm Pilothouse.

Basi considered him his "best friend" and when you have read the transcripts of their tight connection, it's easy to understand his bitterness at Bornman's betrayal.

Nevertheless, the audacity and hubris is unbelievable -these men blithely talked of manipulating provincial and federal ministers.

They cherry-picked their own federal political posts and put together a list of their friends who should receive plums from the incoming administration of former Liberal prime minister Paul Martin. They called themselves the "Punjabi World Order."

Money was the motivation -Basi and Virk coveted $100,000-a-year-plus-expenseaccount jobs in Ottawa.

Or they told each other, imagine what it would be like to pocket a quarter million a year like Kieran and Bornman ...

Venality blinded them.

In the final weeks as they salivated about the federal largesse that might soon begin to flow, Bornman complained to Basi that the fix might be in with Ottawa but Virk should have padded his resumé with "a friggin degree that exists."

A police wiretap caught Basi crowing: "What a, oh, what a web we weave, man."

He was still telling Virk "the gravy train" had arrived only days before police kicked in the door and that web ensnared them.

imulgrew@vancouversun.com