Little Pink House_ A True Story of Defiance and Courage - Jeff Benedict [6]
Rowland had in mind a massive urban-renewal project along the city’s waterfront. But he didn’t want to deal with New London’s Democratic city hall. To wrest redevelopment authority from the city, Rowland looked to his loyal friend Peter Ellef, the head of the state’s Department of Economic and Community Development.
Tall with silvery-black hair and deep-set eyes with bushy black eyebrows, fifty-three-year-old Ellef had a big say in the state’s construction projects, as he controlled the purse strings for urban development. Ellef used his position to establish himself as the governor’s toughest political ally. He liked control, loyalty, and results.
Ellef elected not to bulldoze the governor’s agenda into the city. After all, the city’s Democratic Party leaders despised Rowland and distrusted anyone closely associated with him. And if the city suspected the state was trying to invade its turf, there would be immediate opposition.
Ellef needed a foil—an envoy, a person of influence with an inside track to the city’s political players. He needed a Democrat, but not just any Democrat. The task called for a powerful Democrat willing to help a brutally partisan Republican governor circumvent other Democrats—someone more loyal to personal ambition than to the party.
Jay B. Levin had wanted to be governor of Connecticut, and he had made all the right career moves to get there. After graduating from law school in 1976, he had served as staff legal counsel to Democratic Congressman Chris Dodd before becoming a prosecutor and then a partner in one of New London’s most respected law firms. He had served two terms in the state legislature, but in 1990 he had run unsuccessfully for attorney general.
His defeat had marked the end of his statewide political aspirations. Yet his interest in politics remained, and in the mid-1990s Levin got elected mayor of New London. But then, at age forty-five, he abruptly walked away from politics to make some money. He joined the prestigious Hartford law firm of Pullman & Comley and was appointed chair of its governmental-affairs department, the firm’s lobbying arm.
Ellef didn’t have to go far to find Levin. Pullman & Comley had its office within blocks of the state capitol. No one had better political connections in New London than Levin, especially in Democratic circles. A lobbyist who made a living off his Rolodex, Levin fit Ellef’s needs to a T. The trick would be the job title—“lobbyist” was too blatant.
On March 15, 1997, Ellef posted an official request for proposals for a consulting job to assist the state in developing New London’s waterfront. The posting described the job as analyzing the factors affecting this development and providing an assessment of the political support needed to complete it. “The contractor must fulfill the duties listed to the satisfaction of Peter N. Ellef,” the posting said.
All the action was headed to Levin’s hometown. Within three weeks, he submitted a two-volume proposal, promising to devote himself to directing the project until completion. Levin’s proposal spoke of the political landscape in New London. He warned that numerous public and private boards, along with the city’s influential local newspaper—the Day—had the ability to derail the governor’s initiative even before it started. No one, Levin suggested, was better positioned than he to navigate the city’s politics and local media.
Levin was offering just what Ellef wanted: connections. His price was $196,000.
Ellef didn’t hesitate. He didn’t need to study the voluminous appendices and paperwork stuffing Levin’s binders—those were just bureaucratic