I looked them over and grinned. “Yeah, Mary is gonna love these!”
Twenty-four hours later, I was back at the hotel.
“What did you find out?” Mary asked.
“Come on upstairs,” I replied, “and you’ll see.”
At the top of the stairs, I met Rick Jarvis.
“Are you ready to install the vent fans like we asked?”
I thought I’d play along with Jarvis before I lowered the boom. “Yeah, I’ve thought about it. I’ll be happy to install the fans, but I’ll have to raise the rent to $50.00 a week to cover the costs.”
By this time, other tenants had gathered in the hall and started mumbling. “I can’t afford no fifty bucks.”
Jarvis held up his hand. “He can’t do that! The Tenant Bill of Rights says that a landlord can’t retaliate, and that’s what raising the rent would be --- retaliation!”
It was time to set him straight. “Here’s the thing, Rick. This is a hotel, not an apartment building, and you are a transient guest, not a tenant. Your Tenant Bill of Rights doesn’t apply here. If you don’t like the way the bathroom smells after Mr. Feeney takes a dump, you can do one of two things, open the window and let it air out, or move.”
I looked around at the others gathered in the hallway. “That goes for all of you. If you’re not happy here, move! But good luck finding another place for forty bucks a week.”
I knocked on Benny DiMarco’s door. When he opened it, I was hit in the face by a fruity fragrance. The guy had probably used a whole can of spray to hide the smoke smell.
“Benny, did you hear our conversation out in the hall?”
“Yeah,” he mumbled, “I heard.”
“Good! Here’s the deal. You don’t get 24 hours’ notice. If Mary tells you to open the door, you open it. Understand?”
He nodded and hung his head.
“The rules are no smoking and no drugs. If we catch you again, you’re on the street. Understand?”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“Let’s go, Mary.”
Before we left, Mary had to get in a parting shot. She scowled at Benny. “Asshole!” Then she stalked off, giving him the finger.
Back in her apartment, Mary was all smiles. “That was great! I knew you would come through, Mr. Walt.”
“Don’t get too excited,” I replied. “If we say we’re a hotel, we have to play by the rules. Suzanne Romero gave me this brochure.”
Mary looked it over. “An innkeeper cannot use force to eject a guest or invitee. An innkeeper cannot use more force than is reasonably necessary to effect the ejection.”
“Well damn!” she muttered. “There goes my bat!”
Life is full of compromises.
CHAPTER 11
After presenting the evidence we had collected to Suzanne Romero, she felt we had enough to move forward.
The next step was to file a Notice of Claim.
As we gathered in her office, she explained the process.
“The state’s Tort Claims Act was written to protect government entities from lawsuits, so you are required to file a notice of claim with the designated office, which in Kansas City is the Claims Unit.
“The Notice of Claim must be addressed to each person or entity that caused your injuries. The Notice of Claim is not filed with the court, but must be sent by certified mail to each government employee or entity. In your case, that would be the twelve city council members who voted for the ordinance, the mayor who signed it into law, and the city’s Claims Unit.
“As I mentioned before, it is highly unlikely that the city will award your claim. Once you have received an official letter of denial, you may proceed with a lawsuit.”
“How long will it take for the city to decide on the claim?” Darrin asked.
“There is no set period of time in which they must respond. It is typically between 30 and 120 days.”
“Jesus!” Darrin muttered, throwing up his hands. “If they wait three months, my apartment building will be in foreclosure.”
“I’m sorry, Darrin,” Suzanne replied, “but that’s the law.”
After Kevin and I served the eviction notice on Henry Cosgrove and returned the notice of service to the court house, Darrin received word that his case was scheduled to be heard in ten days in the 16th Circuit Court of Jackson County, Missouri.
After being served, Cosgrove knew his days at the six-plex were numbered. Apparently, he was determined to wreak as much havoc as possible in the time he had left.
The frequency of his wild parties increased. Calls to police only resulted in the cops telling him to quiet down. The moment they were out of sight, the revelry continued.
Unable to endure the constant ruckus, a second tenant moved from the six-plex leaving Darrin with two vacant units. He didn’t even try to fill the vacancies as long as Cosgrove was there.
I decided to go to court with Darrin and his attorney.
As usual, the attorney cases were heard first. Twenty-five eviction cases were on the docket. Our case was the eighteenth to be called.
I wasn’t at all surprised that Cosgrove didn’t bother to show up. He had been down this road many times and it was a foregone conclusion that he was going to lose.
The judge granted a default judgement for possession of the property and since we served Cosgrove in person, Darrin was awarded a financial judgement for back rent.
Once an eviction is ordered by the judge, the tenant has ten days to move out. If they don’t move during that time, the landlord must supply a copy of the eviction to the sheriff who will enforce the eviction.
It was no surprise that Cosgrove refused to move, so Darrin submitted the eviction and was given a date a week later when the sheriff would meet Darrin and enforce the eviction.
For poor Darrin, the whole process, which included the demand for payment of rent, the filing of eviction papers, the time lost when the process server couldn’t find Cosgrove, the additional time it took for us to serve Cosgrove, the time between service and the actual court date, the ten days after the issuance of the judgement, and finally, the week until the sheriff was available, stretched out almost three months.
During that time, Darrin lost two good-paying tenants. Now he was faced with the task of forcefully removing Cosgrove from the building.
Most tenants, once they have been notified of the eviction, will voluntarily move within the ten days --- but not all.
Unfortunately, I had several of those who would not move. Forcefully removing a tenant can get quite testy. The sheriff shows up and announces that he is there to enforce the eviction. Some open the door --- others don’t.
If they won’t open the door, the sheriff instructs the landlord to open it. Hopefully, the tenant hasn’t changed the lock. Prudent landlords have a locksmith standing by just in case. In any event, it is imperative that locks be changed so the tenant cannot regain entry.
Once inside, the sheriff orders the tenant to leave. Most do --- others don’t. I have seen a few belligerent tenants led away in cuffs.
Once the tenant is out, it is the landlord’s responsibility to pack up all the tenant’s belongings and take them to the street curb under the watchful eye of the sheriff. Depending on how much stuff the tenant has, the landlord must show up with boxes, trash bags, and a crew of men to help carry the heavy things to the street.
Once the stuff is on the street, the tenant can retake possession of their things. Some do --- others don’t.
Once everything is out of the apartment and the sheriff is satisfied that possession has been restored to the landlord, his job is finished.
If the tenant is not on the street with their belongings when the sheriff leaves, the scavengers attack the pile on the sidewalk with a vengeance, taking anything useful, and scattering what’s left all over the street.
To add insult to injury, the city holds the poor landlord responsible for cleaning up the mess that the scavengers leave behind.
I wanted to be
there the day the sheriff showed up to evict Cosgrove.
When I arrived, Darrin was there along with two other guys he had hired to remove Cosgrove’s belongings.
The sheriff showed up right on time.
“You ready to do this?” he asked.
“You bet I am!” Darrin replied. “It’s taken me three months to get my building back from this creep.”
The sheriff banged on the door. “Henry Cosgrove! Sheriff’s Department. Open the door.”
When there was no response, the sheriff turned to Darrin. “Open it and stand aside.”
Darrin opened the door and the sheriff went inside.
He returned a moment later. “He’s not here. It’s all yours, but you’re not going to like it.”
When we stepped into the apartment, I heard Darrin gasp. Cosgrove had really done a number on the place.
There were holes in every wall, fixtures had been removed, and bare wires hung from the ceiling.
When we looked in the bathroom, I thought Darrin was going to cry.
Cosgrove had obviously been using the bathtub as a toilet.
Darrin shook his head. “This is a complete remodel. It will take weeks and thousands of dollars to make this place rentable again.”
“Sorry about this,” the sheriff said. “Get your guys busy. I have two more of these today.”
Before cleaning the mess out of the apartment and setting it on the street, we took photos of everything. They would be part of the evidence that Suzanne would present in court.
When everything had been removed, the sheriff left, and within minutes, the scavengers were tearing the bags apart.
Darrin had received a judgement for back rent. We knew that Cosgrove worked at Happy Jack’s Used Car Emporium, so Darrin had Suzanne file garnishment papers.
When no money was forthcoming, I stopped by Happy Jack’s and inquired about Cosgrove.
“As soon as I got that garnishment,” Jack said, “Cosgrove waved goodbye. I haven’t seen him since.”
The system at work. Cosgrove ruins a man’s property, causes two families to relocate, and goes on his merry way, scot-free!
CHAPTER 12
A week or so later, Kevin and I were heading home from a scrumptious meal at Mel’s Diner when Kevin pulled to the curb and pointed.
“Isn’t that our pal, Henry Cosgrove?”
Sure enough, it was Cosgrove. He was obviously in the process of repossessing a Cadillac Escalade. A tow truck was backed up to the Caddy while its grim-faced former owner looked on.
“You wanna mess with Henry?” Kevin asked.
“What do you have in mind?”
“The dude quit Happy Jack’s as soon as the garnishment hit. He’s obviously hooked up with another car lot. I say we follow him, find out where he’s working now and give the information to Darrin Wilcox. He can file another garnishment. Cosgrove will probably split again, but it will mean he has to find another job.”
“I like it.”
We waited until the tow truck pulled away, then followed the truck and Cosgrove to Lou’s Quality Used Cars on Truman Road. The sign on the window said, “Need a car? Lou can do!”
“Another rip-off lot,” Kevin said, shaking his head. “Old Henry can really pick ‘em.”
We watched as Cosgrove supervised the unloading of the Caddy. When he went inside, we pulled up closer to get the address of the lot which we would give to Darrin.
Then I saw Kevin’s face break into a big wide grin. “You want to mess with Cosgrove some more?”
“What now?”
Kevin pointed to the car Cosgrove had driven. “The dude’s driving with expired tags.”
“Perfect!” I replied, dialing my old partner, Ox.
“Hey buddy, how would you like a quick easy collar?”
“What’s the charge?”
“Driving with expired tags.”
“Really? You must think we’re desperate for something to do. Something tells me there’s more to this story.”
“The guy is a real douche,” I replied. “He’s a rent dodger, and completely destroyed our client’s apartment before being evicted.”
“Say no more. We’re on the way.”
I gave Ox the address and the make of Cosgrove’s car. Five minutes later, I saw him pull up a half-block away.
The moment Cosgrove returned to his car and pulled into traffic, I saw Ox’s lights and siren in the rear-view mirror.
When Cosgrove pulled to the curb, Kevin pulled in behind him so we could hear the exchange.
“What’s the problem, officer?”
Ox pointed to the back of the car. “You’re driving with expired plates.”
Cosgrove feigned surprise. “Really? I had no idea. I’ll take care of it right away.”
“Please do,” Ox replied. “I still have to give you a ticket?”
Cosgrove leaped out of the car. “A warning ticket? Right?”
“No,” Ox replied, “more and more people are driving with expired plates or driver’s license. The state is cracking down. I’m afraid it’s going to cost you $225.00. The good news is that I don’t have to take you in. I’ll just give you your ticket and you can be on your way.”
I could see that Cosgrove was furious. “The hell you will!” he said, slapping the ticket pad out of Ox’s hand.
“Well, that changes everything,” Ox said, grabbing Cosgrove and throwing him on the car hood. “Assaulting a police officer. Now I have no choice but to take you in.” A moment later, and Cosgrove was in cuffs.
“Beautiful!” Kevin said, pulling up beside Ox and Cosgrove.
I rolled down the window and gave Ox a wink, then smiled at Cosgrove. “Have a nice day, Henry.”
Sometimes it takes Lady Justice a while to balance the scales, but she usually comes through in the end.
I couldn’t wait to share Cosgrove’s fate with Darrin Wilcox.
It was three weeks before Darrin received a letter from the Claims Department informing him that the city would not be paying his claim.
He gave Suzanne a call and the next day, Darrin, Kevin and I were in Suzanne’s office.
“Now that the city has refused to pay your claim,” she said, “we can proceed with your law suit against the city. The amount being asked for needs to be over $5,000.00. Anything under that would be heard in small claims court by a judge. We want this to be a jury trial.”
“That’s certainly not a problem. Right now, I’ve already lost $3,900.00 in rent with the three vacant apartments, and no telling how much longer before I get them rented. Add on to that, court costs, legal fees, and what it’s costing me to rehab the mess Cosgrove left, and this nightmare is going to cost me at least ten grand. A heck of a lot more if I can’t pay my mortgage and lose my building in foreclosure.”
“Very well,” Suzanne replied, “Let’s sue for $10,000.00 actual damages and another $100,000.00 for punitive damages. That should get their attention.”
Darrin’s mouth dropped open. “Do you think we could really get that?”
I remembered something Clark Kent had said. “If you don’t ask, the answer is always no.”
“That’s up to the jury,” Suzanne replied. “You never know.”
“So what happens now?” Darrin asked.
“Now I prepare our paperwork. As with the claim, every councilman that voted for the ordinance, the mayor, and the city attorney will have to be served.” She turned to me. “Walt, I’m going to name you as the process server if that’s okay.”
“Sure,” I replied. “I’ll be happy to help any way I can.”
“Great! When the complaint documents are ready, I’ll give you a call.”
Two days later, I received the call.
I had thought about how I was going to serve the papers. With the twelve councilmen, the mayor and the city attorney, that meant fourteen trips somewhere.
As luck would have it, the next city council meeting was in two days. Everyone who needed to be served would be
in one place. Perfect! Or so I thought.
I arrived at the city council chambers, documents in hand. When everyone was seated, but before the meeting was called to order, I casually ambled to where the councilmen were taking their seats. I went down the line, handing each one a copy of the complaint. “Councilman, Dupree, you have been served.” I finished by serving the complaint to the mayor and city attorney.
By this time, the councilmen had enough time to read the complaint.
One of them jumped to his feet, addressing me. “This is outrageous! A lawsuit against the city for legislation lawfully passed by this council! I won’t stand for it!”
“Hey,” I replied, “don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just the process server.”
Immediately, the room erupted as the councilmen all began speaking at once, expressing their outrage. The chairman banged his gavel, attempting to restore order.
My little incursion into the council chamber had certainly stirred the pot.
Then as I was making a hasty exit, I realized I had overlooked one thing --- reporters from the Kansas City Star and every TV station are always present at city council meetings.
That night on the ten o’clock news, and the next morning in the Star, the headlines read, “Landlord sues City of Kansas City over recently enacted Tenant Bill of Rights.”
Oops!
CHAPTER 13
“Well,” Suzanne said, smiling, “you certainly stirred up a hornet’s nest.”
“I didn’t think about all the reporters being there,” I replied, apologetically. “I hope I didn’t mess things up.”
“No, quite the contrary,” she replied. “This lawsuit affects a lot of people, and the more that know what we’re trying to achieve, the better. I’m just sorry I didn’t instruct you to serve the complaints at the council meeting myself.”
[Lady Justice 40] - Lady Justice and the Landlords' Nightmare Page 7