RALEIGH – “For this matter.”

These three words of House Speaker Jim Black may be clever. They may withstand careful parsing. That may be what Black and his aides are counting on – counting on in a legal sense, I mean. Surely they cannot believe these three words will help much in a political sense.

A lack of political sense is what I’ll get to in a moment, but first more on the three little words. During last February’s hearings before the State Board of Elections, Black was asked whether he gave former Republican Rep. Michael Decker money or anything of value to induce him to switch parties after the 2002 elections. Decker’s subsequent switch to the Democratic Party triggered a series of events that essentially negated a Republican victory in House races that year, kept Black in the speakership (aided by Co-Speaker Richard Morgan), and affected public policies ranging from redistricting to taxes, education policy, and the state lottery.

Black’s answer to the quid pro quo question needed to be exacting. He had to deny any arrangement with Decker that could be interpreted as bribery, whether immediate or long-term. While political leaders of both parties and all levels of government routinely raise money for candidates who already support them, it is illegal to offer something of monetary value in exchange for a vote (in this case, a vote to elect Black speaker). Decker had a history of converting campaign cash into personal cash – not in itself illegal at the time, by the way – but Black might possibly deny that he knew about this past practice, and thus deny that his campaign fundraising for Decker was intended to benefit the Forsyth lawmaker personally.

With regard to other forms of financial consideration, however, Black had no campaign-finance explanation to fall back on. Decker clearly received such consideration. Black arranged a $48,000-a-year state job after Decker lost his 2004 GOP primary (he had foolishly switched back and thought he could slip past angry Republican voters). And it came out that Black apparently used some of his campaign cash to pay for Decker’s legal representation in 2005, when the scandal started to break. (A follow-up report by Mark Johnson in Saturday’s Charlotte Observer offers more details on the payment, which was two checks for $10,000.)

The legal issues here involve wording and timing. If Decker testifies (everyone now assumes he will, given his plea) that Black told him something to the effect that he would be taken care of if he switched parties, then it might be argued the state job and legal aid were attempts to satisfy that promise. On the other hand, Black might deny that he intended back at that infamous Salisbury IHOP to promise Decker anything, and that his subsequent financial assistance was motivated by friendship and loyalty.

But in his February testimony, Black may have created another legal problem. Asked about the payments to the Winston-Salem law firm representing Decker, Black denied under oath that the money had financed Decker’s legal representation “in this matter” – meaning the allegations being investigated by the board. If not, though, what was the money for?

Perhaps the speaker and the firm will escape having to explain this to investigators or jurors. Politically, it doesn’t matter. Democrat John Snow, a former state judge facing a competitive reelection bid in the GOP-leaning 50th Senate District, put the issue plainly to the Observer’s Johnson: “It looks bad, the fact that that money went to a law firm representing Decker. Anybody would draw the inference that Black was helping take care of his legal expenses.” Just to make this clear once again: Black’s goose is being cooked. The only question is when the timer will go off. Democrats should have severed the relationship months ago, when the damage would have been less severe. Now, in an election year otherwise trending Democratic, the Black & Decker scandal is boosting Republican prospects in North Carolina.

In this, yes, it matters. A lot.

Hood is president of the John Locke Foundation.