"I can respond to the question Mr. Wallace just raised. This is the postal receipt for the letter the city's tax department mailed to the community center on October 3rd of this year, rejecting its application for tax relief."
He took a document from his folder and handed it to the Chairman.
From the gallery, Margaret shot to her feet.
"We never received that letter!"
Chairman Jennings rapped on the table.
"The gallery will remain silent! Mr. Wexler, please continue."
Wexler gave Margaret a small, smiling nod, then continued.
"Whether or not the letter was received is a matter for the postal service. The city, however, did fulfill its obligation to notify. Therefore, from a procedural standpoint, there are no legal defects."
Leo felt like he'd just punched a pillow.
His first line of attack had been effortlessly dismantled.
Over the next hour, the hearing devolved into a one-sided legal showdown.
Every objection Leo raised was flawlessly countered by Wexler, who produced document after document and cited law after law.
Wexler never once spoke of the community center's social value, the plight of its elderly residents, or anything related to morality or emotion.
He spoke only of the law, only of procedure.
Was the community center delinquent on its property taxes?
It was. Wexler produced the delinquency notice from the tax department.
Was the notice for the municipal auction published in advance, as required?
It was. Wexler produced a screenshot of the announcement from the city's website and a photocopy of the notice from the local paper.
Was the entire auction process open to all bidders?
It was. Wexler explained that, as it happened, only his client was interested in a plot of land that came with the additional cost of demolition.
His arguments were ironclad.
He had successfully painted what was clearly a controversial case of collusion between officials and businessmen as a completely legal commercial transaction.
All of Leo's prepared arguments about "community memory" and "the dignity of the working class" seemed pale and powerless inside this labyrinth built from legal statutes.
He could only watch as he and the community residents were dragged onto a battlefield where they were at a severe disadvantage, beaten back at every turn by an opponent wielding rules they didn't understand.
Finally, Chairman Jennings cleared his throat, preparing to give his summary.
"Given that the community center is, in fact, in tax default, and that the relevant procedures for the municipal auction appear, on initial review, to have no significant defects."
He glanced at Wexler, then at Leo, whose face was grim.
"I declare this hearing concluded. The auction will proceed as planned, two weeks from today, on Wednesday at ten a.m. in the City Hall's first-floor auction room."
The residents' faces were etched with disappointment and fury.
Frank couldn't stop himself from cursing under his breath.
Just when everyone thought the dust had settled.
Chairman Jennings added one last thing.
"Of course, if the community is able to present decisive new evidence of a significant procedural defect before the auction takes place, the committee may reconvene for an emergency hearing."
With that, he struck his gavel and declared the hearing adjourned.
Wexler rose, straightened his tie, and walked over to Leo.
He extended a hand.
"You were very good, Mr. Wallace," he said, his smile still flawless. "For a young man without a law license to have come this far is quite remarkable. I look forward to our next encounter."
Leo didn't shake it.
He just stared into the man's cold eyes.
Wexler didn't seem to mind. He retracted his hand and turned to leave the chamber.
'First head-to-head. A total loss.'
'It was a nearly impossible task.'
'To find decisive evidence of a significant defect in their ironclad legal procedure in less than two weeks... '
'It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.'