Part 30 (1/2)

Bullock wanted to clap.

Senators and their staff surrounded Susette as soon as the hearing concluded. Some praised her courage and determination. Others expressed dismay at the Court's ruling. A staffer from Senator Edward Kennedy's office handed Susette the senator's card. ”If you need anything, call his office,” she said. ”He'll do anything to help you.”

Once outside, Bullock patted her on the shoulder. ”You did great in there today,” he said.

”Well ... I tried,” she said.

44.

LEAVE NO FOOTPRINTS.

Mathew Greene liked and respected Dave Goebel. He always had. Without him, Greene believed, the NLDC would have crashed and burned a couple of years earlier. As soon as Goebel came on board as chief operating officer under Claire, he had almost single-handedly made the agency run effectively. The guy was immensely organized, paid strict attention to detail, and knew how to run a complicated organization with many moving parts.

Goebel's best a.s.set was his military background, but it was also his biggest liability, Greene had come to observe. The military couldn't survive without a rigid, top-down approach of giving orders and getting results. But democracy only worked when power flowed from the bottom up-from the people to elected leaders. Goebel never seemed to appreciate the public-relations implications of trying to run the politically empowered NLDC like a military unit. There might have been legal grounds to issue eviction notices, for example, but it was a lot like spanking a child in public: the law might permit it, but it always looks brutal when a big person strikes a little one.

Under Goebel's leaders.h.i.+p, the NLDC had gone too far this time. The city council was looking for a reason to can him, and the eviction notices fit the bill. Greene knew the city would not back down-Goebel had to go. And so did Joplin.

To save the agency, Greene felt obligated to speak his mind. ”I have a lot of respect for you,” Greene told Goebel. ”You've taken a lot of hits. But I think you should resign.”

Goebel disagreed.

Greene tried again. ”You can stay on as a consultant,” he said. ”But you can't be the lead guy. We gotta move forward.”

Steve Percy jumped to Goebel's defense, lecturing Greene and declaring adamantly that Goebel would not step aside. Ignoring Percy, Greene told Goebel that he had met face-to-face with members of the city council and learned that the council was considering a lawsuit against the agency.

”Mat, you don't know everything,” Goebel said.

Greene didn't like the sound of that. ”Well, I'm your legal counsel. I should know everything.”

The implication was that the NLDC was also contemplating legal action against the city council.

Greene reminded the board that the NLDC had been created to do a specific job. ”We weren't created to become a political body,” he said. ”Let's do it and get it done.” The board was not persuaded. It decided to back Goebel and Joplin. Steve Percy publicly dismissed the city council's demand to remove Goebel and Joplin. ”The loss of their leaders.h.i.+p would significantly undermine the ability of the NLDC or anyone to carry out the goals of the MDP [munic.i.p.al-development plan],” he told the press.

Greene resigned and washed his hands of the agency he had represented for nearly eight years. Three days later, the city council formally voted 60 to cut ties with the NLDC within two weeks.

The state knew it had a serious problem on its hands. If New London dissolved the NLDC, state law required the city to appoint a successor, a new agency to implement the munic.i.p.al-development plan. Additionally, the NLDC had its name on scores of contracts with vendors, developers, and lending agencies. Every contract would have to be revised to reflect the change in agencies. All of this was going to take lots of time, money, and lawyers to sort out. Clearly the city council hadn't considered any of this. Rather than looking ahead at the long-term implications, the city council had reflexively decided to teach Goebel and Joplin a lesson.

Despite the state's dissatisfaction with the NLDC, the prospect of seeing the development plan fall into the hands of an inept city council was pretty scary. The state had $70 million on the line. It didn't want to see a dysfunctional political body of ever-changing personnel and unpredictable personalities end up in charge.

Governor Rell turned to her deputy commissioner of economic development, forty-one-year-old Ron Angelo, a fast-rising star in the administration who had the kind of skill set a governor needed in times of political crisis. Angelo had an instinct for seeing the finish line and knowing what kind of tough decisions had to be made to get there. Best of all, he left no footprints.

Remarkably, Angelo had almost no political experience. Before joining the governor's administration a couple of years earlier, he had owned two highly successful companies and had spent some time in the banking industry. His approach to business and problem solving had been influenced by the lessons he had learned from his father. One simple lesson had come from their many hours of playing chess together. Angelo's father had helped him see that to succeed in chess you have to execute each move in antic.i.p.ation of the next two or three moves.

Politics is a lot like chess. And when Angelo sized up the situation in New London, he saw a city council that had focused on only one move: wiping out the NLDC. Angelo called the city's new mayor, Beth Sabilia, and said the state had real concerns about the city's plans for the NLDC. Angelo suggested a more cautious approach.

Sabilia said the city council was tired of taking a beating for the NLDC's methods. Dave Goebel, she said, looked like a hatchet man.

Angelo got all that. The state wasn't too pleased with Goebel either. Calling Susette a liar and serving eviction notices was pouring salt into open wounds. From the state's perspective Goebel was the wrong man in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing at the wrong time. But blowing up the NLDC wasn't the right move, at least not before executing some other moves.

Angelo's message got through. Behind the scenes, the city council modified its approach. Reading between the lines, city officials suspected that the state was sufficiently irritated with Goebel that it wouldn't protect him. On the other hand, it seemed equally clear that the state wanted Joplin to stay on board to ensure some stability and hands-on experience atop the agency. Desperate to do something to restore its political credibility with the public, the city council decided to focus exclusively on Goebel: either he would go, or the city would follow through on its unanimous vote to disband the agency.

This time Goebel and the NLDC's board acknowledged they were in check. Ending the feud with the city, Goebel resigned. As soon as he did, the city council reversed its 60 vote and agreed to keep the NLDC intact. Joplin stayed on as the president.

45.

JUST PRAY.

Susette believed in luck. And the four-month period since the Supreme Court decision had come down proved to be the hottest good-luck streak of her life. It seemed like every time her phone rang something else good had happened. The city council was imploding. Dave Goebel got toppled. Eminent-domain-reform legislation was making its way through statehouses across the country. Gra.s.sroots movements were active in many of the country's major cities. Best of all, Susette and her neighbors were still in their homes.

It was late in October when Susette got a call from Von Winkle. ”Have you talked to Rich?” he asked her.

She usually didn't talk with Beyer unless something was up with the city or the NLDC. She figured something must have happened. ”No, I haven't talked to him. Why do you ask?”

”Oh, I was just wondering if you had talked to Rich,” Von Winkle said before making small talk and hanging up.

A short while later, the phone rang again. It was Beyer calling from YaleNew Haven Hospital.

”Susette?”

She could tell Beyer was crying. She had a feeling the group's luck had just gone bad. ”What's the matter, Rich?” she asked.

”My little girl,” he said, his voice trailing off.

”Rich, what's the matter?”

Beyer started sobbing.

”Rich, you gotta tell me what's the matter. What's the matter?”

”My little girl is dying.”

Attempting to calm him down, Susette asked for more information.

Beyer's eight-year-old daughter had suffered a deadly asthma attack and had been rushed to the hospital in New London before being transferred to YaleNew Haven on life support. Her brain was no longer functioning due to lack of oxygen.

”What can I do? What can I do?” Beyer pleaded.

Susette knew where this was headed. She had administered to children with acute asthma. First came respiratory arrest, followed by cardiac arrest. Without life support, the child's heart would simply stop and she would die.

”Rich,” she whispered, choking back tears, ”I think the only thing you can do is pray. Just pray, Rich.”