PROSECUTION is becoming a lucrative business. In the last fiscal year, the Justice Department collected $24.7 billion from civil and criminal actions (including $20 billion from JPMorgan Chase and Citigroup over their handling of mortgage-backed securities before the financial crisis). Recently, the Manhattan district attorney’s office kept $449 million of an $8.9 billion settlement between the French bank BNP Paribas and federal authorities over sanctions violations.

Another growing revenue source is civil forfeiture, which allows the authorities to seize cash, cars and even homes from people who haven’t been charged with wrongdoing, who in order to get the property back must prove that it was legally acquired. In September, The Washington Post reported that more than $2.5 billion had been seized from motorists and others since 9/11, without search warrants or indictments, under a program that targets cash that moves along highways.

Even as settlements, fines and confiscated assets have become a growing source of income for federal, state and local governments, there is very little monitoring of where it goes. In many cases, local prosecutors are spending the money as they wish, without adequate oversight or accountability. The money is supposed to be used for law enforcement purposes, but that term is so loose and broad that it has been interpreted in shocking ways.

The Massachusetts state auditor’s office discovered that a local district attorney had used confiscated funds to purchase an ice-resurfacing machine and lawn equipment, and to refurbish a school basketball court, in the name of crime prevention. In Connecticut, police used forfeited money to buy undercover vehicles and fitness equipment and pay for training trips. The district attorney in Montgomery County, Tex., used funds to purchase liquor for a cook-off for workers.