novelnext Chapter 89 Finding the Key
Chapter 89 Finding the Key
Chapter 89 Searching for the Key (Bonus Chapter 3/3 for Monthly Tickets)
In the dead of night, only the lights in the mayor's office on the third floor of the city hall were still on.
Leo sat behind his desk, on which were mountains made of stacked papers.
The Pittsburgh City Charter, the City Council Rules of Procedure, the Municipal Financial Management Ordinance, and the Public Works Maintenance Act—these thick and dry tomes were now laid out before Leo.
The air was filled with a strong aroma of coffee.
Leo was exhausted, but his mind was in a state of extreme excitement.
His eyes were bloodshot.
If you close your eyes, the image of Margaret's dilapidated wheelchair stuck on the threshold will appear in your mind's eye.
That small wooden strip blocked not only Margaret's way, but also his.
Moretti locked the door with a program chain, but he didn't believe there were no windows in the building.
"Mr. President, I have an idea."
Leo stared at the lines of terms on the table, his voice hoarse and his speech rapid.
"Bureaucracies have an inherent weakness: laziness and a tendency to shirk responsibility. To keep the system running, they often include a 'default clause' in the law."
Leo stood up and paced back and forth in the office, waving his pen.
"For example, if the mayor submits an emergency repair request of less than $5,000 to the council, and the council fails to provide a clear reason for rejection within 30 days of receiving the request, then according to the principle of administrative efficiency, the request should be considered automatically approved."
"I want to take advantage of this mechanism."
Leo's eyes sharpened.
"Since Moretti wants to stall my big project, then I'll dismantle the second phase of the revitalization plan. I'll break down building one road into fixing a hundred potholes, and renovating a school into replacing a thousand light bulbs and repairing five hundred faucets."
"I want to break that huge $20 million case down into four thousand smaller applications, each worth $5,000."
"I'm going to dump all four thousand of these applications on Moretti's desk in one day. I'm going to overwhelm him with this deluge of paper and paralyze his budget and finance committee."
"As long as they can't process all the applications, as long as they exceed the time limit, even if only one application triggers the automatic approval mechanism," we've created an opening.
"The so-called Crowder-Piven strategy," Roosevelt began slowly. "Although this is a theory proposed by two sociologists twenty years after my death, I am all too familiar with the core of this tactic."
"Create crises, don't wait for them to happen."
"By mobilizing tens of thousands of ordinary people to simultaneously assert their legitimate rights against the rigid bureaucratic system, the system, originally designed to 'deny' and 'delay,' completely collapsed due to its inability to handle such a massive flow of data."
Roosevelt paused, seemingly lost in memories.
"This is the kind of collapse I faced when I first took over this country in 1933."
"Although it wasn't planned by anyone, it was a natural consequence of the Great Depression."
"Tens of thousands of unemployed people flocked to relief stations, and countless depositors packed the bank doors."
"Why did the Hoover administration fall? It wasn't because they didn't want to do anything, but because their administrative system was completely paralyzed in the face of a tsunami of public demands."
"When the system is unable to handle the pressure through normal processes, those in power have only two choices: either use violence to suppress it and trigger a revolution, or be forced to reform and accept new rules."
"Hoover chose the former, so I won."
"Now, you want to do the same thing to Moretti. You want to create an artificial administrative blockade on his desk, while actually squeezing money out of him through loopholes in the regulations."
"It sounds like a brilliant plan," Roosevelt commented, "provided you can actually find the legal provision you've devised."
"Leo, you have to understand that American law, especially municipal charters like this one concerning the distribution of power, has never been a commandment that God carved on a stone tablet."
"They were cobbled together by a group of shrewd politicians in a smoke-filled room through countless arguments, compromises, and exchanges of interests."
"Learning to find your way out of the legal maze is the first step to becoming a mature politician."
"Go find it, Leo. Search among those millions of boring words for the key that can open Moretti's vault."
Leo sat back in his chair and took a deep breath.
"I will find it."
He opened the first law book.
Time began to pass.
At nine o'clock in the evening, Leo finished reading the first volume of the Administrative Code. He found the description of the mayor's emergency powers, but it was immediately followed by the sentence "subject to review by a special committee of the city council."
The road is blocked.
At midnight, Leo saw a glimmer of hope in Chapter Seventeen of the Financial Management Regulations. There were indeed simplified procedures for the use of the "small maintenance fund."
He read on excitedly until he saw that glaring clause: "And the use of these funds shall not involve capital expenditures arising from infrastructure upgrades."
The road is blocked again.
At 2 a.m., the coffee in the coffee machine was empty.
Leo's eyes began to throb and ache, and the words danced before his eyes.
Pittsburgh's legal system is so tight it's suffocating; behind every seemingly lenient clause lies a chilling "but."
All power is carefully locked in a series of mutually restrictive cages.
Every word about budget allocations was meticulously crafted by those old foxes.
There is no such thing as "default approval".
There is no such thing as "automatic passage".
All the terms point to the same conclusion—"subject to city council approval."
Moretti's power is built upon these millions of words of meticulously crafted legal provisions.
This is a fortress.
There are no gaps.
Six o'clock in the morning.
Leo closed the last copy of "Detailed Rules for Approval of Public Works".
The "snap" sound of the book pages colliding was particularly jarring in the quiet office.
He slumped into the chair, his body sliding backward, his head resting against the back of the chair.
Its daybreak.
Morning light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the messy pile of documents on the desk.
Dust particles danced in the beam of light.
Leo stared blankly at the ceiling.
"no."
His voice was dry.
"That law doesn't exist; it's just my imagination."
He buried himself in books all night, only to find that he was just banging his head against a solid wall.
"How are you feeling?" Roosevelt asked.
"I feel like a fool," Leo replied. "I thought I had discovered a new continent, but it turned out I had just hit an iceberg."
""
"That's normal," Roosevelt said. "The Pittsburgh charter was amended after the Great Depression. Those old-school politicians had already plugged all the loopholes to prevent another strong mayor. They were smarter than you think."
Leo sat up straight and rubbed his stiff face.
"So, this is a dead end? I have no choice but to beg Moretti?"
"uncertain."
"I know a way to break this deadlock," Roosevelt said, his voice laced with seduction. "Do you want me to tell you directly?"
The office fell silent.
This is a huge temptation.
Leo knew that if he nodded, Roosevelt would immediately come up with a perfect solution to help him out of his predicament, just like in every crisis before.
He can avoid the pain of thinking and the frustration of hitting a wall.
Leo's fingers tapped lightly on the table.
He looked out the window at the city gradually awakening.
A few seconds later.
Leo gritted his teeth and stubbornly shook his head.
"No.
Leo refused.
"If I were sitting in this position and still needed you to feed me, I wouldn't deserve to sit in this chair."
"I am the mayor of Pittsburgh."
Leo stood up, went to the bathroom, and splashed his face with cold water.
The cold water brought him back to his senses.
He looked at the young man in the mirror, his face covered in water droplets, and his eyes turned fierce again.
"I want to find it myself."
Leo left the mayor's office and went out onto the street.
He spent the entire night in that suffocating office, poring over thousands of pages of municipal codes, only to end up with bloodshot eyes and a groggy brain.
He needs to clear his head; he needs a cup of coffee.
He walked along the sidewalk on Grant Avenue, clutching the collar of his coat tightly in his hands, trying to ward off the chill of early spring.
His mind was still racing, replaying those damned legal clauses like a revolving lantern.
"It requires approval from the city council."
"The Finance Committee has the final approval authority."
"Adjustments to a single budget item shall not exceed five percent."
These terms were like ropes, binding him tightly in place.
Leo kept his head down and walked mechanically, completely unaware of the road conditions beneath his feet.
Suddenly, his right foot slipped.
It was a depression where a paving stone was missing, with loose soil and gravel underneath.
Leo suddenly lost his balance and fell to his right.
A sharp pain came from my ankle.
Just as he was about to fall onto the hard concrete, a rough, strong hand grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
"Hey! Watch where you're going, young man!"
An old voice rang in my ears.
Leo steadied himself, still shaken, his ankle throbbing with pain.
The person who helped him up was an elderly man in a sanitation worker's uniform, holding a broom and looking at him reproachfully.
"Thank you—thank you." Leo gasped, rubbing his ankle.
"This damn road."
The old man loosened his grip and poked the hole hard with the broom.
The pit was about ten centimeters deep, hidden between two raised cement slabs, and could not be seen at all if you did not look carefully.
The old man pointed to the pit and said, "Three months ago, this was just a crack. Two months ago, it turned into a small pit. At that time, I called the municipal hotline and said that it was dangerous here, with people coming and going, and that something was bound to happen sooner or later."
"But nobody listened. They said it wasn't on the emergency repair list, told me to fill out a form, and then go home and wait for news."
"Last month, my wife came to bring me food, and right here, she stepped into the hole."
The old man's voice was filled with anger.
"Right here, in the place I clean every day, in the place I've reported countless times, she broke her leg and now she has to use crutches."
"These damn bureaucrats, we've complained a hundred times, made phone calls and written letters, but nobody pays any attention."
The old man spat on the ground.
"All they do is sit in that building drinking coffee and collecting our taxes, but they can't even fill a hole."
"The current government just doesn't want to take responsibility."
Leo was about to chime in with a couple of words before continuing on to buy coffee.
But the old man's last words struck him like a bolt of lightning, piercing his confused mind.
"Be responsible."
Leo suddenly looked up and stared at the crater.
The pit was there, ugly, dangerous, gaping wide, waiting to swallow the ankle of the next pedestrian.
The elderly man said they had complained a hundred times.
This means that the city hall was aware of the pit's existence.
However, the city hall was not repaired.
Why wasn't it fixed?
Because you don't have enough money? Because the procedures are too complicated?
Whatever the reason, there's only one result: the pit is still there, and it caused someone to break their leg.
Leo's expression suddenly changed.
Ignoring the pain in his ankle, he grabbed the old man's hand.
"Sir, you just said you filed a complaint?"
The old man was startled by Leo's actions and tried to pull his hand back.
"Yes, I did complain. What happened? I called the neighborhood office and also sent an email to that municipal hotline."
""
"Are there any records?" Leo pressed, his eyes burning. "Those emails, and the phone recordings, do you keep them?"
"The email should still be on your phone—" The old man looked at the strange man in the suit with suspicion. "Why are you asking this? Are you a lawyer?"
"No."
Leo released his grip, a look of ecstatic joy on his face.
"I'm a more troublesome person than a lawyer."
He quickly took out a pen and a small notebook from the inside pocket of his suit, turned to a blank page, and handed them to the old man.
"Sir, please write down your phone number and your wife's name." Leo's tone left no room for argument.
The old man was stunned by this imposing manner and subconsciously took the pen and wrote down a string of numbers on the paper.
Leo tore off the page, glanced at it, and then carefully put it into his pocket.
"Listen, I'll contact you." Leo looked into the old man's eyes and made a promise. "I'll give you an explanation regarding your wife's injury and the medical expenses. I promise you."
"But now, I must get back to my office immediately."
Leo glanced at the gaping crater, his eyes sharpening.
"I need to confirm a hypothesis. If I'm right, this pit will bury many people."
He turned and ran.
He didn't care about buying coffee or his aching feet.
He made his way back to the city hall, rushed into the elevator, and pressed the button for the third floor.
When he pushed open the door to the mayor's office, Ethan Hawke was bent over, tidying up the scattered legal codes on his desk.
Ethan arrived this morning, carrying two cups of hot coffee.
He knew nothing of what had happened to Leo the night before, only that the table was a mess and that Leo had suddenly barged in, his trousers covered in mud, his hair disheveled, and his eyes bloodshot.
"Leo?" Ethan exclaimed in surprise. "What happened to you? Did you run into robbers?"
Leo completely ignored Ethan.
He walked straight to the desk, muttering words that Ethan couldn't understand.
"It's not the city council—we can't stay in that circle—we have to step out—we must step out—"
Ethan frowned, put down his coffee, and looked at him. "Leo, you need a break. What are you muttering about?"
"I don't need rest, Ethan."
Leo suddenly raised his head, and his bloodshot eyes made Ethan's heart skip a beat.
With a flick of his arm, he swept the entire stack of the Pittsburgh Code from the table onto the floor.
"Slap! Slap! Slap!"
The heavy books slammed onto the floor with a dull thud.
"Stop searching through this garbage, we've been heading in the wrong direction all along!"
Leo strode around the desk and pressed the power button on the computer.
"I've been trying to figure out how to get the city council to approve the terms; I'm going around in circles with their rules, trying to untangle the knot Moretti has set."
"But I forgot that Pittsburgh is not an independent kingdom."
"Above Pittsburgh, there's Pennsylvania!"
Leo sat down and his fingers flew across the keyboard.
Ethan looked at the screen and saw that Leo had logged into the official database of the Pennsylvania legislature.
He typed a phrase into the search box: sovereign immunity.
"Ethan, as a Juris Doctor, you should understand this concept better than I do." Leo stared at the screen, speaking rapidly, "In the United States, the government usually enjoys sovereign immunity, which means that ordinary citizens cannot sue the government for decision-making errors."
“That’s right,” Ethan replied. “This is to protect taxpayers’ money from being wiped out by endless lawsuits, and to protect the government from liability for infringement when exercising its functions.”
"but!"
Leo slammed down the Enter key.
A cover of a bill popped up on the screen—the Pennsylvania Political District Tort Claims Act.
"There are exceptions to immunity."
Leo slid the mouse, and the cursor stopped at Article 8542 of the bill.
"Start from here and look ahead."
Ethan leaned closer and read out the terms on the screen.
"—Local government agencies shall be liable for damages caused by the following actions or situations:"
"—Section 3: Dangerous conditions of public utility facilities, streets, and sidewalks."
Ethan paused for a moment, then continued reading following Leo's finger.
"—The premise is that the government agency had actual notification," and failed to take action despite having sufficient time to take measures to protect the public from danger.
A brief silence fell over the room.
Leo leaned back in his chair, pointing at the line of text on the screen, his hand trembling slightly.
That was excitement.
"Did you understand, Ethan?"
"This is the nuclear weapon we've been looking for."
Leo pointed out the window: "Right downstairs, on the sidewalk of Grant Street, there's a pothole where an old man's wife broke her leg."
"The elderly man did not seek compensation from the municipal government."
"Of course, according to this state law, the city hall should have been exempt, since broken roads are a common occurrence."
Even if the elderly man seeks compensation from the city hall, the law will not support him.
"However, the old man said he had filed a complaint with the city government."
"This means that the city hall has actual notification."
""
"This means that the city hall knew there was danger there, knew that people might get hurt, but still chose not to repair it."
"In this situation, if an accident occurs, the city government will lose all legal protection."
"Injured citizens can sue us, and the court will order us to pay huge sums of money for medical expenses, lost wages, and even punitive damages."
"I see."
Ethan's mind raced, and he immediately realized Leo's true intentions.
"Moretti can refuse to approve the road construction budget; that's his power, the agenda-setting power granted to him by the municipal code."
0
"But he couldn't refuse to pay compensation because it was a responsibility mandated by state law."
"If the road isn't repaired and someone gets injured, then it's a legal responsibility. The city government must compensate for that."
"In the past, the reason why those bureaucrats dared to ignore citizens' complaints and the potholes on the streets was because they were betting that citizens didn't understand the law."
"Even if some citizens understand, they are betting that citizens don't have the energy and money to fight a protracted lawsuit against the huge municipal government."
"6
"But things are different now."
Ethan looked at Leo: "Now, there's a mole within the city government."
"A traitor who stands on the side of the people."
"We don't need Moretti's approval for our revival plan."
Leo's eyes sharpened like knives.
"We will break the revitalization plan down into countless patch notes ourselves."
"While this fragmented approach to patching things up is certainly not as comprehensive and systematic as the second phase of the 'Revitalization Plan,' and will be much less efficient, at least it allows me to bypass that damned dead end and begin to deliver on some of my campaign promises."
"We can give these thousands of minor repairs and modifications a bit of administrative packaging. We can label them as 'preliminary feasibility studies and emergency interventions for the second phase of the revitalization plan.'"
"That's called taking a roundabout approach."
Hearing this, Ethan frowned.
He didn't show the excitement Leo had expected; instead, he revealed worry.
"Leo, your logic is sound in law, but it has a huge loophole in administrative practice."
Ethan speaks very quickly.
"Even if you send out thousands or tens of thousands of repair requests, it will only create administrative congestion."
""
"Your application won't even reach the city council; their first stop is the Street Maintenance Department of the Public Works Department."
"Faced with these applications, the Street Maintenance Department simply stamps a 'budget insufficient' stamp and then passes the buck to the Finance Department or the City Council."
"In the end, we still have to go back to that vicious cycle: no budget, no money, and we still have to go through the process of the city council approving the budget."
Moretti can simply bury these applications at the bottom of the file pile, even for a year, and you won't be able to do anything about it.
Ethan stood up and paced anxiously back and forth.
"Furthermore, regarding that deterrence strategy you mentioned—civilian injury is a probabilistic event."
"Moretti is a shrewd politician. He only needs to find a group of actuaries and do a simple calculation. Even if there are several lawsuits due to the road collapse, the total compensation may only amount to a few hundred thousand dollars, at most a million dollars."
"He would probably rather let a few unfortunate citizens get hurt, or fight a few lawsuits with them, than approve your $20 million revitalization plan or gain you huge political prestige."
"For him, losing money is a small matter; losing power is a big deal. He can afford to gamble."
Leo remained calm in the face of Ethan's series of sharp rebuttals.
He just smiled slightly.
"Ethan, your analysis is spot on."
Leo stretched out a finger and waved it in the air.
"But you forgot one thing."
"You see the city council as a monolithic entity, as Moretti's personal kingdom."
"But the truth is, there are nine people in the city council."
"Nine people who are only responsible for the votes cast in their own constituencies."
Leo's gaze pierced through the air, as if he could see the councilors with their own hidden agendas in the building across the street.
"Although Moretti is the speaker, he only has one vote."
"Everyone wants to get a piece of the pie from this budget, everyone wants to benefit their own constituency. They follow Moretti because Moretti can give them meat."
"But if the budget is significantly embezzled, and everyone goes hungry, will they still stand on Moretti's side?"
"What we need to do is create trouble big enough that the seemingly solid alliance will begin to crumble from within."
Ethan frowned: "But if you calculate it over a year, the compensation will be at most a million, and you'll have to go through one or two years of litigation. How many citizens can afford to wait that long?"
"So, this is just a starting point."
Leo said, "I never intended to use the citizens' compensation to threaten Moretti."
"The only person who can threaten someone as important as Moretti is another important person."