The Mayor Under Fire : ‘As City Hall Turns’: Workers Stay Tuned In to Melodrama

On the surface, Monday was a day like any other at Los Angeles City Hall.

A television murder mystery movie-of-the-week was being filmed in the tiled, marble-columned rotunda. In the reception room behind the oil portrait of Tom Bradley in the mayor’s office, municipal employees heaped paper plates with spaghetti, pizza and enchiladas in honor of a departing colleague. Behind office doors, reports were copied for distribution, notes on little yellow tags were affixed to memos and ringing telephones were answered.

But many intercoms had been tuned to the special City Council Finance Committee hearing that morning--even in departments where committee hearings do not ordinarily command much attention. Many minds were focused on the potentially explosive testimony that emerged in that session: investigators’ potentially damaging revelations that Bradley’s name had been removed from a document that showed he had told city treasurer’s officials to deposit $2 million of taxpayers’ money in a bank that employed the mayor.

The news was spreading.

“There’s ‘white-out’ over what used to say ‘per the mayor,’ ” a city auditor had told the Finance Committee.

City Treasurer Leonard Rittenberg later testified that the notation had been covered and replaced with “per Leonard Rittenberg” because the original wording was incorrect.

The reaction from city employees was as quiet as it was strong.

“People aren’t going psst, psst, psst in the offices. They don’t know the alliances. Among their friends, though, they are. I know they are,” said one City Hall worker who, like most interviewed, asked for anonymity in print.

Another city staffer, from the city administrative office, had only this to say when asked for his opinion: “I work for the mayor and the City Council. It’s not in my best interest to say something detrimental about people who are in effect my boss.”

Those who offered a public response were careful.

“I’ve been following (the investigation), but it’s nice to see the totality before making a judgment,” said Bill Koepcke, a deputy city attorney who was eating lunch in the 10th-floor City Hall cafeteria. “I hope (Bradley) gets a fair hearing. Justice will prevail.”

Those who did not want to reveal their names showed intense emotion on both sides of the issue.

“I don’t think Mr. Bradley is that type of guy,” said an employee of the General Services Administration. “I feel he’s a good mayor.”

The morning’s hearing had persuaded him that “somebody could be setting up the mayor, creating something.”

An aide to a City Council member saw it differently. He said when Rittenberg testified, “he did sound quite nervous.”

“That’s natural, I guess,” the aide said. “But if you have nothing to hide, why should you be so nervous?

‘Best Excuse’

“I’m sure they got their story straight last night. And if that’s the best excuse they can offer, I wonder what the real truth is.”

In one office, three friends spent part of the afternoon discussing the day’s news. Parking ticket quotas for police was one hot topic. The unfolding Bradley investigation was another.

Employee No. 1 was familiar with the details of the morning’s testimony. Employee No. 2 wanted to know what had happened.

No. 2 was curious about Rittenberg.

“Did they beat up on him?” he asked.

“Not really,” No. 1 said.

“Did they ask him why he lied the first time he was there?” asked No. 2.

“He said he misunderstood the question,” No. 1 said.

A snort from No. 2. “Right. Unbelievable.”

No. 1: “He said it was routine.”

No. 2: “Even though the money was supposed to go to another bank. I’m surprised they didn’t beat up on him.”

No. 2: ‘Oh, he was sweating a little.”

Eventually, No. 2 felt compelled to explain, “We all love this stuff. This is ‘Dallas.’ Instead of ‘As the World Turns,’ this is ‘As the Stomach Turns.’ ”

No. 1 nodded his head. “But it will go on,” he said. “The city will go on.”