Part 23 (1/2)
”That you only own one building, known as 31 Smith Street. Is that correct?”
”I'm not sure who owns anything.”
O'Connell didn't know what to do next. ”You're not sure whether you own these buildings at all?”
”Well, I believe I own them. I'm not sure.”
”Do you collect the rents?”
”Yes, I do.”
”Do you turn the rents over to anyone else?”
”No.”
”Yet you're not sure that you own the buildings. Is that correct?”
”I'm not sure how you set things up for me, sir, in your office.”
Bullock had to laugh. As much as he didn't want Von Winkle to square off with O'Connell, he took some pleasure in seeing his client turn the tables on his adversary.
”I don't think I have any more questions,” O'Connell said.
Londregan knew Von Winkle's reputation well. He had no intention of challenging him. That would be like picking a fight with a porcupine: even if you won you got p.r.i.c.ked. Rather, Londregan planned a more nonconfrontational approach. He simply wanted to make the point that one of Von Winkle's buildings was so close to the street that it didn't conform to current zoning regulations. And any attempts to widen the road to accommodate increased traffic would conflict with the location of his building, therefore justifying its removal.
”Mr. Von Winkle, how are you?”
”Not bad,” he said.
”Do you agree with the opening statement of your attorney that you're not opposed to the implementation of the munic.i.p.al-development plan so long as it doesn't take your property?”
”Right, so long as it doesn't take my property.”
Londregan directed him to a photograph of his brick building. ”Looking at the bottom left-hand corner, am I correct that the foundation of this building comes to the edge of the sidewalk there?”
”Yes, it does,” Von Winkle said.
”Do you happen to know about how wide that sidewalk is?”
”Since I paid for it, I should,” Von Winkle said, to laughter from the spectators. ”Six and a half feet.”
”Is it fair to say that the foundation of that building comes right to the edge of the sidewalk?”
”Yes. Six and a half feet to the street.”
Londregan had gotten what he wanted.
”Your Honor, I have nothing further.”
By the end of the first day, each of the property owners had testified. Bullock and Berliner couldn't have scripted a better start. All of the plaintiffs had said they would not oppose the city's development plan as long as they could keep their homes. And all of them offered compelling testimony about the NLDC's bullying tactics and hostile treatment.
Over the next couple of days, NLDC officials testified that the agency had in fact made changes and modifications to the development plan, including exceptions that allowed some existing buildings to remain, such as the Italian Dramatic Club. The point was clear: although the NLDC wanted a ninety-acre footprint for redevelopment, it wasn't essential for the agency to acquire every parcel of real estate within that footprint to achieve its goals.
Antic.i.p.ating that Claire would be their most difficult witness, Bullock and Berliner scheduled her toward the end of the NLDC's slate. Accompanied by her college-age son, she entered the courtroom and made her way to the witness stand.
Accustomed to a certain degree of deference, Claire got none from Corradino. He seemed to know little if anything about her or her reputation. Earlier in the trial, he had repeatedly referred to her as ”this lady,” prompting Londregan to eventually point out that Claire was the president of the NLDC, among other things. To Corradino, she was just another witness.
To Berliner and Bullock, she was the worst kind of bully, disguising her heavy-handed tactics as goodwill for the poor. After her experience taking Claire's deposition, Berliner had compiled an array of questions designed to hem Claire in with yes or no answers.
From the start of her testimony, Claire looked and sounded less certain and less ornery than she had in her deposition. Yet she still managed to turn her answers into commentaries about the loftiness of the NLDC's objectives and the complexity of its work. After one particularly long and evasive answer, Berliner zeroed in.
”Was the answer to my question yes?”
Remaining evasive, Claire continued to lecture.
Corradino had heard enough. ”Okay,” he said, interrupting Claire, ”why don't we do this? Realizing that life is short, when you're asked a question, if you can answer a yes or no, answer yes or no.”
Berliner repeated her question to Claire. ”So the final answer to my question was yes?”
”I did already say that, yes,” Claire said. ”I just said it at the end instead of the beginning. That's the way French logic goes. I'm sorry. I will try to use Anglo-American logic.”
Berliner asked her about a specific date in the process for producing a development plan.
”What's the relevance of the date?” Claire responded.
Corradino looked at Claire. ”You can't object on relevance,” he informed her. ”They're the ones that object. You try to answer the question.”
From the gallery, Kathleen Mitch.e.l.l couldn't believe what she was thinking and feeling-sympathy for Claire. For three years Claire had been the face of the enemy in Fort Trumbull. Mitch.e.l.l had spent that entire time trying to b.l.o.o.d.y that face with a relentless a.s.sault through words, slogans, and protests. Through it all she had seen Claire one way: as a cold, calculating power broker. But suddenly, Claire was in an inferior position. Instead of being in charge, she had been forced into a defensive posture, like a pampered house pet being dropped suddenly into a jungle. A lawyer was badgering her, and a judge was telling her what she could and couldn't say. Mitch.e.l.l almost didn't recognize Claire.
The trial, in many respects, was Claire's swan song. Already gone from Connecticut College, Claire's days as president of the NLDC were now numbered, too. She didn't plan to seek reappointment, and the agency would soon name a new president. A lot had changed since Claire had stood shoulder to shoulder with Governor Rowland and George Milne while leading city officials down the Thames River on a cruise s.h.i.+p to kick off the revitalization of New London.
After Berliner finished with Claire, it fell to Londregan to restore her credibility. It was a strange role reversal. He had never cared for Claire's style, and she'd never cared for his. They had fought bitterly from the early stages of the project. But the lawsuit had given them a common adversary, and now they needed each other.
Berliner and Bullock had characterized Claire and the NLDC as an iron-handed group that ran roughshod over powerless homeowners. Londregan asked leading questions that stressed the agency's strict adherence to a lengthy and complicated governmental process. With little emotion, Claire gave simple yes or no answers. Her only intention in all of this, she testified, was to help turn New London around.
Mitch.e.l.l glanced across the aisle at Claire's son, intensely watching his mother defend herself. Mitch.e.l.l had never thought of Claire as a mother. Bruising political fights tended to obscure the fact that the people on the other side were human beings.
When Claire stepped down from the stand, the judge declared a brief recess. Mitch.e.l.l made her way over to Claire's son and introduced herself. ”I feel really bad,” Mitch.e.l.l told him. ”Through this whole thing I've made some real unkind references to your mother. I think it's real kind of you to be here.”
”I love her,” the boy said. ”It's been tough for her. I wanted to be here for her.”
Mitch.e.l.l turned and walked away. She didn't see anyone else in the courtroom for Claire.
The national media wasted no time making up its mind about who had the better argument inside the courtroom. In an editorial, the Wall Street Journal Wall Street Journal jumped on the city and Claire for running people out of their homes to make way for a hotel and upscale housing. ”Claire Gaudiani justifies the project by saying, 'Anything that's working in our great nation is working because somebody left skin on the sidewalk,'” the jumped on the city and Claire for running people out of their homes to make way for a hotel and upscale housing. ”Claire Gaudiani justifies the project by saying, 'Anything that's working in our great nation is working because somebody left skin on the sidewalk,'” the Journal Journal said. ”That kind of thinking quickly leads to government officials acting like bullies rather than servants.” said. ”That kind of thinking quickly leads to government officials acting like bullies rather than servants.”
The Boston Globe Boston Globe called the NLDC ”ruthless” and blasted the city for allowing the agency to abuse the public use clause of the Fifth Amendment. ”Is that how the power of eminent domain is supposed to be used?” wrote the called the NLDC ”ruthless” and blasted the city for allowing the agency to abuse the public use clause of the Fifth Amendment. ”Is that how the power of eminent domain is supposed to be used?” wrote the Globe Globe's Jeff Jacoby, ”to expel families from their homes for the sake of expanding the tax base?”