Chief Enron thief Kenneth Lay must be rolling in his grave laughing after a federal judge Oct. 17 vacated his criminal convictions for fraud and conspiracy, as his fortuitous July demise may now preserve his personal fortune from repaying thousands of Enron employees cheated by his actions.

And they say you can’t take it with you.

In a political atmosphere where wealthy businessmen are accused of receiving every perk from American government, the decision says the benefits seem to extend even into the afterlife.

At its peak, Enron exemplified the pinnacle of corporate largess in America, an ebullient energy conglomerate with endless supplies of cash and political influence. Politicos feted its executives as captains of industry, while its employees snuggled with swollen retirement funds and stock portfolios.

Then came the crash, and the skittering away of corporate ne’er-do-wells like Lay, who retreated to a swanky vacation home while some Enron rank-and-file lost the roofs over their heads. Two billion dollars of pension funds evaporated, as part of Enron’s $60 billion implosion. Thousands of jobs turned to dust.

Only through the courts could the victims – they cannot be called “displaced workers” – of Enron find justice, and perhaps recoup a pittance of what was lost from Lay’s malfeasance. The U.S. Department of Justice fought for them, and won, but hope for real retribution apparently also dropped dead with Lay.

Lay’s “vindication” was expected, as his attorneys had judicial precedent on their side. The law gives dead defendants the benefit of the doubt when their shuffle from this mortal coil prevents their case from being appealed. Lay’s demise opened this loophole; a true Shakespearean tragedy.

DOJ officials, according to The Associated Press, asked the court to delay its decision to allow Congress to consider emergency legislation designed to protect Lay’s conviction. But Congress adjourned for the campaign season without considering the measure.

Congress’ action conveys a stark message: in an election year, protecting one dead donor still outweighs advocating on behalf of many live voters.

Interestingly, the same day Lay was cleared, the New York Times profiled several Americans whose expunged criminal records continue to hound them. Like Victor Guevares, 33, who had an expunged decade-old misdemeanor conviction recently unearthed in a background check by a private company.

The revelation, the Times said, cost him a new job, one which would have doubled his salary and put his family squarely into middle-class. He’s sued both the company, Tyco, and the background checker, Acxiom. Stories like Guevares are common, unfortunate repercussions of the Information Age.

Especially now, given that Lay’s transgressions have been washed away. While some citizens must live with their past, Lay’s official record is wrongly unblemished, and leaves hardworking Americans – both Enron’s victims and people like Victor Guevares – still thirsting for justice.

Dead men tell no tales. And now, they apparently pay no price as well.