eccentrics who are happier in the neighborhood's traditionally
industrial atmosphere than with high-end yuppified retail, restaurant,
and residential development.
One year after the designation, however, the preservation office
created a licensing provision that permitted developers to obtain
special-use licenses for approved 'urban renewal' projects that were
consistent with the architectural history of the Railroad District. For
the first sixteen months of that program,
Jane Wessler was in charge of deciding which projects qualified as
special uses. Grice's three proposals, in her view, did not.
Grice, however, was persistent. After seeing several similar projects
in the neighborhood approved, Grice filed a request under the Oregon
Public Information Act for the names of all companies who applied for
special-use licenses and for Wessler s determination on each
application. Using the data, Grice had tried to make the case to
Jessica Walters that Wessler was on the take. I looked at the list he
had compiled. Maybe there was a trend; a few companies were three for
three while Grice had no luck at all. But I could see why Jessica had
decided there was nothing criminal; with so few examples, it was
impossible to tell if it was just coincidence.
According to Jessica's notes, Grice had resubmitted his applications
after Wessler left for a yearlong maternity leave, but the city had
refused to reconsider the original decisions. That must have been the
appeal from which Clarissa had recused herself.
I took another look at Grice's list. No mention of Gunderson.
Next, I turned to Clarissa's copy of Gunderson's case file. I'd read
through it when Slip had first shown it to me in his office, but I
wanted to see how it fit together with Grice's complaint. Gunderson's
Railroad District project had also been rejected by the city, but by a
different licensing official, a month after Wessler went on leave.
Unlike Grice, however, Gunderson had appealed, and Clarissa had
reversed the decision.
Then I spread out the pages of financial information Slip's
investigator had printed from Clarissa's password-protected disc. The
text at the top of each page identified the spreadsheet as the budget
for the Lucy Hilton Pediatric Center. Lots of money coming in, but no
substantial expenditures yet. That made sense, given that the center
was still in the planning process. From what I knew, the project had
been dropped at one point because of the bad economy, but Townsend had
resurrected it as his baby.
Whatever he was doing, it seemed to be working. There were pages of
entries for donations, large and small, from individuals, corporations,
and the major local foundations. But no money from Larry Gunderson or
Gunderson Development.
I took a break and grabbed a Diet Coke from the kitchen. This time
Vinnie followed me upstairs, sprawling himself beneath the desk near my
feet. When I stopped scratching him behind his ears and returned to my
documents, he looked up at me and snorted. It was as close as he could
come to saying, 'Snoozapalooza.'
'Tell me about it, little man,' I said, rubbing my eyes with the palms
of my hands. For some reason, Clarissa had kept a copy of the
Gunderson file, Townsend's financial records, and the videotape of her
and Caffrey together under lock and key. If there was a connection,
where was it?
I studied the list of the hospital donors again and finally saw it: a
name. The MTK Group had made a donation of $100,000 to Townsend's pet
cause. I reopened Jessica's file on Grice. There, on Grice's list of
companies affected by the decisions of Jane Wessler, was the MTK Group:
three renewal projects in the Railroad District, and every one of them
approved. So what the hell was the MTK Group?
I called the corporate filing division of the Secretary of State's
office, hoping to get the company's basic registration information, but
their business hours were long over. Then I called information, but
there were no listings under MTK. I even tried an Internet search.
Bupkes.
I cross-referenced Grice's list of development companies with
Townsend's list of donors but didn't find any additional overlap.
More than ever, I missed the resources of the U.S. Attorney's
Office. What I needed was access to LEXIS/NEXIS. From what I could
remember, NEXIS's public records database included corporate filing
information from all fifty states. Unfortunately, Duncan never saw fit
to include the service in the office's budget. If we needed legal
research, we did it the old-fashioned way.
Out of desperation, I pulled up the LEXIS/NEXIS Web site on my computer
and tried my old federal password. Part of me was relieved when it
didn't work. Getting busted by the feds wouldn't exactly help my
current professional standing.
Then I remembered that the computer research sites all give free
passwords to law students and judicial clerks. It's the legal
profession's equivalent to a dealer handing out drugs on the
playground. Once the kids are hooked on an easy fix, they'll pay
anything for more.
