The two attorneys on the Las Vegas City Council fretted at length Wednesday about the "chilling" effect created by waiving the attorney-client privilege for the council and the city manager's office in the Royal Links Golf Club case.

What they feared was losing the "free exchange" of ideas -- the options and ramifications presented to the council by its attorneys and managers about the Bill Walters deal, particularly, and perhaps about future endeavors.

The problem with the whole colloquy was that Mayor Oscar Goodman and Councilman Steve Wolfson forgot that it is the public who needs to see how city councils past and present make deals. It is the public that deserves to know whether it was fleeced by Walters. It is the public that should determine whether the city has fully responded to the California law firm investigating the Royal Links saga.

On Wednesday, William Henry, one of the city's attorneys, talked a lot about corporate law and referred to the city as a "corporation."

It's not. It's a government.

Two weeks ago, Goodman said at his news conference that as far as he was concerned the privileges should be waived because he thought it was important to be as open as possible and comply fully with investigators. On Wednesday, Goodman fretted about waiving the privileges, which he called "sacrosanct."

He likened the privileged discussions between the elected City Council and its taxpayer-funded managers and attorneys to advice he seeks from his rabbi or doctor. "This is a sad day for the City Council," Goodman said before the council voted to waive the privilege.

No. It was a ceremonial step for open government -- the kind that operates in enough sunshine to let the public decide whether its officials are acting responsibly.

At best, the city's deal with Walters is a classic juice job. Investigators will determine whether it's anything more.

Back in 1997, Walters secured the land for the golf course by entering a 50-year deal to lease it from the city. He purchased the property for $894,000 in 1999, just as the course was set to open. The land cost him about $5,600 an acre, well below market value because of the city's deed restriction prohibiting the construction of homes at the site, which serves as a buffer to a sewer plant.

Walters was back before the council last year, seeking to lift the deed restriction. The deal would have him pay $7.2 million and return the rights to treated sewer water used at the course. The city got two appraisals for the land -- $35.6 million and $55.7 million. The council approved the deal, then rescinded the action amid concerns raised by new Attorney General George Chanos, who launched the probe.

What the city attorney's office and manager's office know about the deal and might have presented to council members could be vitally important. Instead, Goodman griped about the loss of trusted communication.

In addition to his apples-to-oranges comparison of counsel sought from a priest or rabbi, Goodman also erroneously compared the privileged communications to that of a reporter protecting a confidential source. Reporters will go to jail to protect the identity of a source, Goodman said, referring to the case of New York Times reporter Judy Miller who served 85 days in jail for withholding the name of the person who leaked her information about CIA agent Valerie Plame.

But what the council was worried about losing had nothing to do with national security. In the city's case, it's about protecting the reputation of bureaucrats who apparently jotted down some embarrassing personal observations along with their notes.

Goodman expressed concern about "certain people in the media" who might use the information to "destroy reputations" of those who wrote the memos and notes the council was about to remove from the cloisters of confidentiality. He argued to exempt Deputy City Manager Betsy Fretwell's notes. I can only imagine how frank her language was about the so-called deal.

Councilman Larry Brown offered the only statements from the board contrary to the arguments of Wolfson and Goodman, saying that when he was first elected, he was briefed that everything he does as a councilman is public information.

Brown's statement gives the perception city government is a bastion of openness. But this is a government that routinely clams up about a subject, citing "pending litigation" even when no lawsuit has been filed. City Hall also charges $1 a page for photocopies, an unreasonable block to stymie inspection.

Even after the council waived the privilege, the "public information" office referred requests for the records to the city attorney's office, which balked, citing the ongoing investigation.

The "slippery path" Goodman feared was that Wednesday's decision could harm the council's ability to seek legal advice from its attorneys. But the only slope the council slid down Wednesday was one leading away from the gigantic wall of secrecy the city has erected around the public's right to know.

Erin Neff's column runs Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. You can reach her at 387-2906, or by e-mail at eneff@reviewjournal.com.