Torricelli has always seemed to be having a good time, much to the consternation of some of his stodgier congressional colleagues. Torricelli’s lifestyle is expensive to maintain on a senator’s salary ($136,700). If his accusers are to be believed, he has supplemented his lawmaker’s pay with questionable gifts–10 Italian-made suits, an $8,100 Rolex watch, gold cuff links from Tiffany’s, $600 earrings for one of his former girlfriends–from a Chinese businessman who has pleaded guilty to making $53,700 in illegal contributions to Torricelli’s 1996 Senate campaign. Torricelli’s personal and campaign finances are now under intense investigation by the U.S. attorney in Manhattan. Torricelli’s lawyers say they are engaged in a “dialogue” with federal prosecutors, but that Torricelli is “totally innocent” and the investigation is “ridiculous.” (Torricelli declined to speak to NEWSWEEK.) Nonetheless, Torricelli’s friends acknowledge that his once high-flying political career is at risk. And they blame the ex-husband of one of his former girlfriends for starting a smear campaign that has mushroomed into a series of stinging New York Times exposes and a major corruption probe.

The troublemaker, these sources say, is multimillionaire Russell Berrie, whose company distributes expensive stuffed animals and luxury gifts. In interviews with NEWSWEEK, Berrie said that Torricelli “goes after women with money.” He said, however, that he does not begrudge the fact that Torricelli dated his wife during their divorce proceedings. “I would like to send Bob Torricelli a big thank-you note because I’ve got a wonderful [new] wife and I’m as happy as I can be,” he said, adding only half in jest, “As soon as he gets his address in jail, I’ll send it to him.”

Torricelli is still a long way from jail. But “the Torch,” as he is known by Washington insiders, is famous as a political hustler. Torricelli’s abilities as a hard-charging fund-raiser are legendary. (As head of the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee in 2000, he raised a record $103.5 million.) He is also known for his temper and his mouth. At a Democratic Senate caucus meeting at the Library of Congress in 1999, after the then Sen. Frank Lautenberg mildly criticized his fellow New Jersey senator on some minor political matter, Torricelli exploded: “You’re a f—ing piece of s—, and I’m going to cut your b—s off!” A Torricelli aide declined to comment on the incident. Lautenberg told NEWSWEEK: “It’s fair to say that my voice hasn’t changed.”

Torricelli’s ambition, and his lack of subtlety, have been on display since at least college days. At Rutgers, he was elected class president every year. But in his first race he was accused of exceeding the $75 limit on campaign expenditures imposed by the college. (Torricelli denied the charge and was not disciplined.) His opponent sophomore year accused Torricelli of spying on his campaign by getting his girlfriend (a student at Smith College) to pose as a reporter for the campus newspaper. This time the election was invalidated, though Torricelli came right back and won the next year.

Throughout his political career, Torricelli has mixed politics and romance. His first wife, Susan Holloway, was a fellow staffer for Vice President Walter Mondale. With Bianca Jagger, he visited Kurds in northern Iraq. Patricia Duff is a veteran Democratic fund-raiser who in the course of one week appeared on Torricelli’s arm at lunch in the Senate dining room, a White House dinner for the president of Italy and the White House Correspondents’ Dinner (as NEWSWEEK’s guest). But with the angry Russell Berrie, Torricelli’s love life caught up with him. Berrie had been a supporter and campaign contributor to the then Congressman Torricelli when the wealthy businessman became enmeshed in a bitter divorce with his wife, Uni, in 1989. Suspecting Uni of adultery, Russell hired detectives. One of the men discovered squiring Uni about town was Representative Torricelli. Berrie was furious. His private eyes continued investigating his former friend. Torricelli’s camp believes that Berrie’s detectives even went through the congressman’s trash.

A few years later Berrie had a chance to pay Torricelli back when the Torch ran for the U.S. Senate from New Jersey. Berrie acknowledged to NEWSWEEK that he was aware information dug up by his detectives had reached Torricelli’s GOP opponent. Stories were fed to the New Jersey papers suggesting that Torricelli had improperly helped out a South Korean businessman, a big Democratic contributor who fled the United States in 1984 after being indicted for stealing $34 million. The allegations against Torricelli went nowhere, and he won in a close race. Torricelli himself was not above vindictiveness. According to Senator Lautenberg, Torricelli as a congressman wanted to introduce legislation that would raise tariffs on the kind of toys imported by Russell Berrie’s business. In an interview with NEWSWEEK, Lautenberg said he told Torricelli, “You have no right to use your legislative power to get even” with Berrie. Torricelli, says Lautenberg, did not speak to him for years. (Torricelli’s office would not comment on the incident.)

Though Berrie denies playing any direct role in Torricelli’s current legal woes, he wouldn’t rule out the possibility that his former private eyes–including an ex-FBI agent–helped the Feds out. The investigation into Torricelli’s finances began in 1997 after Torricelli took his Senate seat. A local New Jersey lawyer, facing charges of stealing from his clients, steered the Feds toward a Chinese businessman named David Chang. The lawyer claimed that Chang had enlisted his help in circumventing the campaign-finance laws by taking an $11,000 check and breaking it up so 11 different “straw donors” could each make $1,000 Torricelli contributions–the legal maximum for an individual to a candidate.

Chang was arrested in December 1999 and briefly jailed after he was caught allegedly shredding some documents to obstruct the investigation. (A source close to Chang says he was approached in jail by a former politician and business partner who put his finger to his lips and whispered, “Shhh.”) Prosecutors obtained Torricelli’s financial records, including his stock trades. The New Jersey politician has picked up quick money in the stock market, once making $140,000 on an IPO for a bank owned by a friend. The Feds began tracing gifts from Chang to Torricelli. At one point, the Chinese businessman started to make payments on a Mercedes for the senator, but Torricelli told the dealer to return the money when the senator heard about it.

In return for favors, Chang claims that Torricelli leaned on the South Korean government to sell Chang an ailing insurance company. In the end, the deal did not go through, and Torricelli’s associates say that the senator did nothing for Chang that other lawmakers wouldn’t do for their constituents. They also note that prosecutors once characterized Chang as a liar whose background was so murky that his nationality, marital status and date of birth were in question. (Chang’s lawyer, Bradley Simon, had no comment.) As for any gifts, Chang was Torricelli’s friend, at least before he turned on him. Torricelli has hired a lawyer, Ted Wells, who successfully defended President Clinton’s secretary of Agriculture, Mike Espy, in a gifts-for-favors case not unlike the allegations being thrown around about Torricelli.

The Torch is still a familiar figure on Capitol Hill, bustling about the Senate. He confidently predicts to friends that he will weather his legal storm, though the once camera-hungry lawmaker has not been granting interviews of late. And it has been a while since he appeared on the gossip pages with a flashy woman on his arm.