No settlement talk has been heard lately although it was regarded as likely last summer. Plenty of time remains for the city to settle, but not even the flimsiest sign is in sight. Mr. Goldberg’s latest words should concentrate the attention of the intensely private Mr. Vera and City Hall. This is the first hint of concretizing the case for the rest of us. The time may be near to replace the beads of sweat with the beads of a rosary.
Staying in the Background
After an initial burst of surprise from official Culver City — Mr. Vera and City Hall learned the news from this newspaper — the case dropped under the radar screen. Mr. Goldberg and his nephew operate a law firm that is an anomaly in today’s fiercely competitive legal market. The gentlemen are fairly publicity-shy. They laser-focus on the goal line not the fluffy folderol surrounding the game. Not known for its legendary patience, the gentlemen’s firm specializes in winning jumbo-sized awards for clients. Perhaps no two-person firm in Los Angeles has harvested larger rewards in recent history. Last seen, Mr. Goldberg’s nephew, who prosecutes cases for wronged city employees, was undefeated for the century.
A Little Drama in Courtroom?
In the ninth month of the Heidi Case, it appears that Mr. Vera, Culver City’s most colorful, most controversial, most talked-about citizen of the generation, may be forced into a courtroom. If that happens, the curtains would be drawn back on his extremely guarded personal life — and the wealth he has amassed. For all of the decades of supposed transparency that Mr. Vera’s legion of loyalists claim he has demonstrated, the fact is almost nothing is known of his private life and his worth.
The Wrong Style?
One would think the prospect of facing a rival attorney in an open courtroom would be chilling enough to drive a settlement. Mr. Vera evidently has not budged yet. Sources say that settlement is not the style of Dana McCune, the city’s lead attorney. The central figure in the case is, of course, Mr. Vera. The ordinary citizen of Culver City would tell you that Mr. Vera is one of our town’s best known citizens. This impression is widespread because until recent months, Mr. Vera only has been fawningly covered in the press, strictly on his terms. No one has scaled the wall on his personal life. Regarded by some as holier than a few of the saints, he has played the publicity game brilliantly over the years. Like an oldtime coquettish flapper girl daring to bare an ankle, almost nothing of Mr. Vera is visible, image to the contrary. Name and rank — that is the beginning and the ending of his biography. Everything else personal is a guess. For such a hometown celebrity, one would think the prospect of being publicly unmasked in a courtroom would be terrifying.
One of the most intriguing imponderables in this compelling drama is the following: Was the ubiquitous Mr. Vera — gone but scarcely forgotten — acting as a concerned father or as an influence-wielding City Councilman two summers ago when he leaped into an emotional fray between the Police Dept. and his fortyish son? This gooey-fingered question stuck in the mouths of members of the City Council during their closed session on Monday night. The question is a stumper that can make your vision go blurry because the truth is not knowable. You think Mr. Vera is going to say, “Mr. Attorney, I was acting as an influence-wielding City Councilman.”?
Was the Truth Trampled?
Ms. Keyantash, meanwhile, maintains that she is entitled to a share of Mr. Vera’s millions for the way he allegedly treated her on the infamous Culver City morning of Aug. 7, 2004. The mess in the parking lot of Coco’s Restaurant, across the street from Temple Akiba, changed the lives of at least three or four people — the “retired” Police Chief John Montanio, Mr. Vera (win or lose), Ms. Keyantash (if she wins), and possibly Mr. Vera’s son Albert Jr. Some who worked closely with Mr. Montanio during his brief flirtation with the chief’s job say that this incident convinced him to seek employment elsewhere — preferably by the next day. Without a question, Mr. Montanio owed the crowning position of his Culver City career to his patron, Mr. Vera, and then it all went into the fire for both of them. Knowledge of their quite close relationship colored all judgments that followed, fairly or not. Harshly criticized for his highly questionable conduct on the day that the younger Mr. Vera was stopped, Mr. Montanio’s tallest sin may have been a sin of omission. Although the police chief spent a fat chunk of the day of the incident in Mr. Vera’s store, no one in official Culver City knew of the case until twenty-four days later. Radio KFI broke it first, the day before the Los Angeles Times reported several details.
Postscript
To call Mr. Montanio’s eventual departure “retirement” is to put a hat, gloves and spats on an embarrassing display of judgment. The truth should red-face a few people if it ever raises its head out of the swamp. With Ms. Keyantash determined to make Mr. Vera pay for what she says was his improper interference, the safest place for Mr. Montanio may be out of town. He said he was doing secret work in another country, and virtually no one would know how to contact him. Sounds like a plan.
