[Lady Justice 40] - Lady Justice and the Landlords' Nightmare

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[Lady Justice 40] - Lady Justice and the Landlords' Nightmare Page 9

by Robert Thornhill


  After being sworn in, Milo told the story of how he had inadvertently rented to a tenant who had set up a meth lab in his basement. Suzanne had arranged to show the video we had taken of the tenant cooking his meth.

  You could almost hear the gasps from the jury as the tenant proceeded to mix the various chemicals that would create the meth.

  “Mr. Bridges,” Suzanne continued, “prior to renting to this tenant, were you aware that he had previously been convicted for exactly the same offense?”

  “I didn’t know,” Milo replied. “According to this new law, I can’t ask about a person’s criminal record. If I had known, I certainly wouldn’t have rented to him. If it wasn’t for the private investigators I hired, the guy would still be there if he hadn’t already burned the house to the ground.”

  “Mr. Bridges, how many rental properties do you own?”

  “Just the one, and I’ve never had a lick of trouble until now. I’ve always been very careful in selecting my tenants.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Bridges. No further questions.”

  The judge turned to Krantz. “Cross, Mr. Krantz?”

  “Yes, Judge. Mr. Bridges, how was this video obtained?”

  “It was a camera placed by the private investigators I hired.”

  “Are you aware that videoing someone without their consent is illegal?”

  My hiney puckered when I heard his question. Surely Suzanne wouldn’t have used it in court if it was illegal.

  Immediately, she jumped to her feet. “Objection! Surely Mr. Krantz is aware that it’s legal to install nanny cams in all fifty states, and recording video on private property is up to the discretion of the property owner, private security or the police. In this case, it was the property owner himself and his private security. In any case, the tenant had no expectation of privacy in a bare basement. Furthermore, this trial is not about the rights of a convicted felon, but the rights of a private citizen to protect his property.”

  When the judge said, “Objection sustained,” my sphincter relaxed.

  A dejected Krantz took his seat. “No further questions of this witness.”

  “Ms. Romero, call your next witness.”

  “The plaintiff calls Roscoe Barnes.”

  I hadn’t seen this man before. Suzanne must have found him on her own.

  “Mr. Barnes, you are a landlord. Tell me about your rental property and what you’re currently experiencing.”

  “I own a duplex,” Barnes said. “My tenant on one side has been with me several years. She’s a single mother with a six-year-old boy. When the other side became vacant, I advertised in the paper. A man applied and I checked what background I was allowed to check under this new ordinance.

  “On the day I was going to notify him that he’d been accepted, I happened to be having coffee with a landlord friend of mine. When I mentioned the man’s name, he told me the guy was bad news. He had been arrested for assault and disorderly conduct. Hearing that, there was no way I was going to put the guy next door to a single mom and six-year-old kid.

  “Somehow the guy found out that I nixed him because of his record. Now I’m being sued for discrimination, and it’s all because of this new Tenant Bill of Rights!”

  “Thank you, Mr. Barnes. No further questions.”

  “Cross, Mr. Krantz?”

  “Yes, Judge. Mr. Barnes, prior to your conversation with your friend, did you discover any reason not to rent to this prospective tenant?”

  “No, I did not.”

  “So, your decision not to rent to him was based solely on hearsay from a friend?”

  “Yes and no. After hearing what he said, I checked for myself. Sure enough, the guy had a record.”

  “How many times had he been arrested?”

  “Just the once.”

  “So, knowing full well that it is now unlawful to reject tenancy on the basis of a prior arrest record, that is exactly what you did.”

  Barnes looked Krantz in the eye. “Yes, I did, and I’d do it again. I have a responsibility to my other tenant, not only to maintain the property, but also to do my best to ensure her safety.”

  “That’s all well and good, Mr. Barnes, but truthfully, you had no idea whether this man had learned his lesson and would not cause any further problems, did you?”

  “No, I suppose not, but I wasn’t willing to take the chance.”

  “Exactly!” Krantz replied, triumphantly. “That’s precisely why this ordinance was passed into law. To make sure that people like the man you turned away get a second chance. No further questions.”

  Krantz believed he had made his point, but to me, renting to the guy with the record was playing Russian Roulette just like the Professor had said.

  “Next witness, Ms. Romero.”

  “The plaintiff calls Cindy Marshall.”

  “Ms. Marshall, are you a landlord or a tenant?”

  “I’m a tenant. I’ve never owned property myself.”

  “Could you please explain to the jury what you’ve experienced recently.”

  “Yes. For the past six years, I’ve rented an apartment in a four-plex owned by Elvin Cordell. Mr. Cordell has been a fantastic landlord. Anytime something needed repair, he was right on it. The other three tenants in the building had been there almost as long as me and loved Mr. Cordell. He was like one of the family.

  “Then, the tenant across the hall from me was transferred to another city and the apartment became vacant. The man Mr. Cordell moved into the unit began causing trouble right away. Loud friends, wild parties, fist fights in the hall. After I complained to Mr. Cordell, the man found out and threatened to hurt me if I complained again.

  “I actually feared for my safety. I told Mr. Cordell that if something didn’t change, I would have to move. He apologized and said that if he could have investigated the background of the tenant like he had always been able to do, he would have never rented to him and put me in that position. He said that it might take three months to get the man out. I was afraid to stay, so I moved.”

  “So what you’re saying, is that the provisions of the Tenant Bill of Rights limited Mr. Cordell’s ability to choose a respectful tenant, and that, in turn, caused you to give up the home you’d loved for six years because you feared for your safety?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what happened.”

  “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that. No further questions.”

  “Cross, Mr. Krantz?”

  “I have no questions for this witness, Your Honor.”

  Evidently, Krantz figured there was nothing to be gained by harassing one of the people his ordinance was supposed to protect.

  The judge looked at his watch. “I think that will all for today.” He banged his gavel. “Court is dismissed until nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”

  So far, it looked like Suzanne was presenting a very solid case.

  CHAPTER 15

  After the long day in court, Kevin and I were anxious to get home. Kevin had left his car at my place and ridden with me to the courthouse. We had just pulled up in front of my building when Dad pulled in behind me. A moment later, Dad and another man I had never met before climbed out of his car.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Hi, Son. I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Henry Philpot. He’s going to sleep on my couch tonight.”

  “Glad to meet you, Henry. Wife kick you out?”

  He gave me a woeful look. “No, Helen passed away three years ago.”

  I felt like an ass.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean ---.”

  “That’s all right. No harm done.”

  “Henry’s staying with me because his furnace is on the fritz,” Dad interjected. “The nights are getting pretty cold with no heat.”

  “Do you have a repairman scheduled?” I asked.

  “No, that’s the problem,” Dad replied. “Henry lives in a rental house and the damned landlord won’t get the thing fixed.”

  So there it w
as, right on my doorstep. The other side of the coin. A good tenant being screwed by a bad landlord.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” I said. “I’d like to hear more about this.” I turned to Kevin. “Are you heading home?”

  “Nope, I’m coming with you. I want to hear Henry’s story too.”

  Once seated in dad’s apartment, I turned to Henry. “Let’s start at the beginning. What’s going on?”

  Henry took a deep breath. “I rent a little bungalow on Euclid. Been there goin’ on twenty years. I rented from an old friend, Ralph Daniels. He was always good to me. I’d pay my rent just like clockwork and he always took care of anything that needed fixin’.”

  “So what changed?”

  “Ralph passed about six months ago and his good-for-nothin’ son, Galen, took over the place. All he’s interested in is gettin’ his hands on my rent money. He won’t fix nothin’. I told him about the furnace two months ago. He keeps sayin’ he’ll send somebody, but he never does.”

  “Have you contacted the Health Department?”

  “After a month with no heat, I gave them a call. Some guy came out, looked the place over, and said he’d send a letter to Galen. Nothin’ happened, so I called them again. When he came back out, he said it was goin’ to cost Galen $150.00 for a re-inspection fee. Hell fire! He coulda got the thing fixed for less than that. Bottom line, I still got no heat.

  “I got real pissed and told Galen that I wasn’t payin’ no rent until he got it fixed. He said, ‘That’s fine. I’ll just evict you and rent the place to someone else for more money.”

  “That’s rough,” I said, then turned to Kevin. “Are you interested in giving Henry a hand?”

  He grinned. “You bet I am.”

  I got Galen’s work and home addresses from Henry. It was nearly five o’clock. We figured we could catch Galen leaving his place of business.

  On the way, Kevin remarked, “What’s happening to Henry is a real shame, but the way I see it, there’s not a damn thing in that new Tenant Bill of Rights that helps him at all.”

  “I agree,” I replied, as we pulled up in front of Puritan Payday Loans.

  “That says a lot,” Kevin remarked. “He runs one of those payday rip-off joints.”

  Henry had given us a description of Galen and at 5:30 on the button he left the building and headed to his car.

  We followed him to his home and watched him go inside.

  “What do you think?” Kevin asked. “He could be in for the night.”

  “Maybe. Let’s give it some time. I’d really like to nail this s.o.b.”

  Forty-five minutes later, after kissing his wife good bye, Galen headed for his car. We followed him to an American Legion Hall. We waited ten minutes then slipped in the front door. A few men were drinking at the bar. We spotted Galen sitting at a table playing cards with three other guys.

  “Well, crap,” Kevin said. “Nothing incriminating here. Shall we call it a night?”

  “If you don’t mind,” I replied, “I’d like to wait. I just have a feeling.”

  “Okay by me,” he said, “but I’m starving. Let’s at least get a burger and some fries.”

  We found a Burger King a block away, stocked up on munchies, and returned to watch the Legion Hall.

  Around ten o’clock, Galen came out and headed to his car.

  We followed him and when he pulled into the parking lot of the Shady Lady, Kevin clapped his hands. “A titty bar! Now we’ve got something.”

  We waited ten minutes and went inside. We spotted Galen sitting next to the stage ogling a tall, busty blonde.

  “Perfect!” he muttered. “Let’s get the guy on film.”

  I pointed to a sign that read, “No cameras allowed!”

  “I think they frown on photography in here.”

  “Here’s what we’ll do,” he said, conspiratorially, “I’ll chat up the bouncer while you get a couple of candid shots, then we’ll get out of here.”

  I nodded and headed to the far side of the club. I was glad Kevin was the one chatting up the bouncer. He’s good with bullshit. Me, not so much.

  I found a table at the back of the room and pulled out my cell phone. I was able to get one shot of Galen stuffing a wad of bills into the blonde’s G-string just before a scantily clad waitress came by.

  “What can I get you,” she asked, bending down so I had a great view of her cleavage.

  “Uhhh, how about a Coke?” I figured I should order something.

  She rolled her eyes and stalked away. “Coming right up.”

  I saw Galen whisper something in the dancer’s ear. I figured he was requesting a lap dance.

  A few minutes later, the waitress returned with my coke.

  “Here you go, old timer. That’ll be six bucks.”

  Six bucks for a Coke! I started to protest, but thought better of it. I handed her a ten. “Keep the change.”

  She took the bill and rolled her eyes again. I doubted she would be back.

  Sure enough, as soon as the blonde was through with her routine, she motioned to Galen and the two of them went to an empty table. The moment the music started, she straddled Galen’s lap and began gyrating seductively. I got a good shot of Galen with his nose in the blonde’s cleavage. I drank my six-dollar Coke and headed for the door, giving Kevin a wink on the way out.

  In my car, I showed Kevin the two shots.

  “That should do the trick,” he said, grinning.

  Thirty minutes later, Galen came out of the club and headed to his car.

  “Let’s do this,” Kevin said.

  “Mr. Daniels,” I called out, “a word please.”

  Galen looked up. “Who are you guys?”

  “We’re friends of Henry Philpot.”

  He thought for a moment, then put two and two together. “Oh yeah, Philpot. The old guy who lives in the rental house. What of it?”

  “We understand that Henry is having some issues with his furnace. We were hoping you could do something about it.”

  “Actually,” he replied, belligerently, “that’s none of your damn business. Now butt out!”

  “We thought you might say that,” I replied, pulling up the photos on my phone. “We’re making it our business.”

  He looked at the photos and his eyes grew wide. “What the hell. What is this?”

  “This is us, asking you very politely to send a furnace repairman to Henry’s house first thing in the morning.”

  “This --- this is blackmail!” he sputtered.

  “No,” Kevin replied, “this is a negotiation. You take care of Henry’s furnace and your wife will never see these photos. Do we have a deal?”

  He gritted his teeth. “That’s all?”

  “Well, yes and no,” Kevin replied. “From now on, you treat Henry with respect and keep his home in good shape and these photos will never see the light of day.”

  “Deal!” he muttered, and stalked off.

  “That went well,” Kevin said, smiling. “Let’s go tell Henry the good news.”

  It was just after eleven, and I wondered if the old folks would still be up. I shouldn’t have wondered. Not only were Dad and Henry up, but Bernice, his sweetie from across the hall, and Jerry, my tenant on the first floor were also there.

  “Well,” Dad said, expectantly, “did you talk to the creep?”

  “Yes, Dad, we did. Henry, a repairman will be at your house first thing in the morning.”

  Henry was all smiles. “But how?”

  “Easy. We followed him to a bar and went inside.”

  “That reminds me of a joke,” Jerry said, interrupting. “A horse walks into a bar and the bartender says, ‘Hey buddy, why the long face?’”

  “Not now, Jerry!”

  “Okay, okay. Sorry.”

  “Anyway,” I continued. “It was a strip club. I took a few photos and the rest was easy.”

  I showed everyone the photos.

  “Dang!” Dad said, “that gal has quite a set of knockers
. I’ll bet they don’t sag to her knees like someone else I know.”

  Bernice punched him in the arm. “Are you complaining?”

  “That wasn’t a complaint,” Dad replied, grinning. “Just an observation.”

  She whacked him again. “Observe this!”

  “Back to business,” I said. “Henry, I’m going to make you a copy of these photos. If Galen ever gives any more trouble, just let him know you have them. I doubt you’ll have any more problems.”

  When it was all said and done, in one evening, with just a snapshot or two, we had accomplished something that the City of Kansas City, the Health Department and the Tenant Bill of Rights hadn’t been able to do.

  It had been a good day.

  CHAPTER 16

  The next morning when I arrived at the courthouse, the supporters of the Tenant Bill of Rights who had ramrodded the legislation through the City Council were gathered on the courthouse steps.

  When I went inside, the gallery was already full of more supporters, most carrying signs promoting the Bill of Rights.

  Evidently, word had spread that the testimony in the trial thus far was not looking good for the new legislation. Those who had worked so hard for its passage were letting the world know that they wouldn’t be giving up any time soon.

  Judge Parker entered the room, and seeing the restless crowd, he banged his gavel. “I will not tolerate demonstrations or disruptions in my courtroom. If things get out of hand, I’ll have this room cleared. Do you understand?”

  The room fell silent and the posters were lowered out of sight.

  “Good!” Judge Parker said. “Now we can proceed. Ms. Romero, you may call your next witness.”

  “The plaintiff calls Darrin Wilcox.”

  This was the testimony that everyone was waiting to hear. It was Darrin who had initiated the lawsuit against the city.

  “Mr. Wilcox,” Suzanne began, “You are a landlord, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “How many rental properties do you own?”

  “Just the one, a six-plex. After I retired from the military, I used the money I had saved during my active duty to purchase the building. My long-term goal was to pay off the building and have the monthly income to supplement my military pension.”

 

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