bestfiction Chapter 272 - 136: A Legal Dead End
Chapter 272 - 136: A Legal Dead End
Pittsburgh City Hall, second basement level, records room.
The air was dry. Harsh, pale light from white fluorescent tubes glared down, illuminating hundreds of legal files and case law compilations piled high on long tables.
Leo sat at one end of a table.
His tie was loosened, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and a thick volume of the United States Code lay open before him.
Ethan and three other legal advisors from City Hall were seated around him.
A mountain of documents half a meter high was stacked in front of each of them.
Ever since their falling-out with Morganfield, Leo had holed up with his team in this basement.
They were searching for a way out.
They were searching for a legal miracle—a clause that could circumvent Section 2 of the Sherman Antitrust Law and legitimize the port franchise agreement that had been accused of being an "illegal monopoly."
"Here."
A young legal advisor pointed at a computer screen, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
"A 7th Circuit Court case from 1998. They ruled that a municipal authority can grant exclusive operating rights to a specific company for public health and safety considerations, like with waste disposal."
The city’s chief legal counsel, an old, gray-haired bureaucrat named Adrian Payne, didn’t even spare it a glance.
"Our port is about logistics, not waste disposal," Adrian responded coldly. "Logistics involves interstate commerce, and the Federal Court has zero tolerance for monopolies in that area. Unless you can prove that Pittsburgh would suffer a plague if we didn’t give Morganfield a monopoly, this is useless."
The young advisor fell silent.
Time ticked by, second by second.
They sifted through nearly every antitrust precedent from the last fifty years.
From telecommunications to railroads, from natural gas to cable television.
Every precedent was like another brick wall blocking their path.
The Sherman Antitrust Law was one of the bedrock principles of the American capitalist system, designed precisely to crush the very thing Leo was trying to do.
A deep entanglement of administrative power and capital.
Adrian took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
"Mr. Mayor."
Adrian’s voice was filled with exhaustion.
"We have to face reality. No matter how much we dig through these stacks of paper, the facts are clear."
"We exclusively granted a key public resource to a private company without holding a fully competitive process."
"Procedurally, we deprived other potential competitors of their rights."
"Unless we can produce proof of an extreme state of emergency at the time, like a war or a major natural disaster, the best we can do in this lawsuit is to stall."
"Wait."
Ethan, who had been buried in a pile of old case files, suddenly shot to his feet.
He clutched a yellowed photocopy, his eyes shining with astonishing brightness as his finger jabbed forcefully at a line of text on the page.
"Parker v. Brown."
Ethan slapped the paper down in the center of the table.
"A 1943 Supreme Court precedent, 317 U.S. 341."
Ethan spoke in a rapid-fire burst, with the fervor of someone who had just discovered a new continent.
"This case established a principle: the state-action immunity doctrine."
"The Supreme Court ruled that if an anticompetitive action is taken by a state government, acting as a sovereign entity to implement its clear public policy, then that action is not subject to federal antitrust laws."
Ethan looked at Leo, his gaze searing.
"Leo, even though we’re a city government, our municipal authority is legally derived from the state’s authorization. If we can prove that granting the franchise to Morganfield wasn’t for the sake of a commercial monopoly, but to execute a ’clearly articulated public policy’ of the state of Pennsylvania—like revitalizing a declining industrial area or optimizing statewide logistics..."
"Then we have immunity!"
"The Federal Court has no jurisdiction over a state’s sovereign actions!"
"Hold on."
A bolt of lightning suddenly flashed through Leo’s mind.
"A clearly articulated public policy..." Leo muttered to himself, his eyes growing brighter and brighter. "Ethan, we have that!"
He strode over to a file cabinet and began rummaging through it frantically, finally pulling out a document.
It was the expedited bond issuance approval letter that the Pennsylvania Department of Community and Economic Development had been forced to issue under pressure from the White House Chief of Staff.
"Look at this!"
Leo slapped the document on the table, his trembling finger pointing to a line of fine print in the addendum.
"Back then, to bypass financial review and get the five-hundred-million-dollar bond issue approved, the White House provided an endorsement document to Harrisburg, forcing the State Government to recognize the project’s strategic importance."
Leo read aloud:
"’...Hereby affirming that the Pittsburgh Inland Port expansion project is a critical component of the overall logistics planning for the state of Pennsylvania and the national supply chain resilience strategy, and plays an irreplaceable role in revitalizing the economy of the western part of this state...’"
"Did you hear that?" Leo looked at everyone present, his voice filled with irrepressible excitement. "A critical component! An irreplaceable role!"
"Isn’t that a clearly articulated public policy?"
"This means that, legally, Harrisburg has already endorsed the method and necessity of our building this port!"
"We aren’t creating a private monopoly. We’re executing a grand economic revitalization strategy on behalf of the Government of Pennsylvania!"
"This is our talisman!"
Leo felt his heart pounding wildly.
Back from the brink.
He had thought it was a dead end, never imagining that the ultimate authority he had leveraged to issue the bonds would also leave a back door open for him here.
As long as they clung to this point—that this was an extension of the State Government’s will—they could break through the federal antitrust law.
The atmosphere in the room instantly became charged with excitement, and even the young legal advisors’ faces lit up with surprise and delight.
But then, Adrian poured a bucket of cold water on this newly kindled hope.
"In theory, it holds up, Mr. Mayor. That’s a brilliant angle."
"However, you’re overlooking the Midcal test."
"First, the anticompetitive policy must be ’clearly articulated and affirmatively expressed’ by the state legislature."
Adrian glanced at the approval letter.
"On that point, your discovery is quite valuable. Although the State Assembly didn’t pass a specific bill, this document—stamped with the seal of the Pennsylvania Department of Community and Economic Development and citing national strategy—does give us room to argue in court."
"We can argue that by approving the financing, the State Government implicitly authorized this exclusive operational model."
"We might just be able to squeeze past that first hurdle."
Adrian continued, "But the second prong."
"The policy’s implementation must be ’actively supervised’ by the State Government."
"And that’s the fatal flaw."
"Mr. Mayor, has the Pennsylvania Transportation Department or the Public Utility Commission established a dedicated agency to review the Morganfield Group’s fee schedules?"
Before Leo could speak, Adrian answered his own question.
"No."
"Does the State Government have the authority to veto Morganfield’s business decisions? Does it have the right to periodically audit his operating profits?"
"No."
"We gave him the franchise and then washed our hands of it completely. In this agreement, Morganfield is free; he isn’t subject to active supervision by any state-level official body."
"The Supreme Court’s logic is simple: the state can permit a monopoly, but it won’t allow a private party to exercise monopoly power without supervision."
"As long as that ’active supervision’ link is missing, the immunity won’t apply, even if the governor himself wrote you a letter of support."
"Unless..." Adrian said, "unless you can get those people in Harrisburg to suddenly pass a law before tomorrow morning, announce the formation of a Pittsburgh Port regulatory commission, and actually send people to audit Morganfield’s books."
"But is that possible?"
Leo knew the answer all too well.
Those people in Harrisburg would rather see him dead right now. How could they possibly set up some kind of supervision at a time like this?
"So, no matter how beautifully worded that approval letter of yours is."
"This is still a dead end."
The light in Ethan’s eyes went out.
He slumped back into his chair, staring blankly at the photocopy of *Parker v. Brown*.
Leo sat there, silent.
He looked at the legal documents covering the table, at the dense, tiny clauses.
These words formed the bedrock of modern society, what was called order and justice.
But in this moment, all Leo saw were walls.
On all sides, walls of bronze and iron.
Every law, every precedent, was a fortress meticulously constructed by vested interests to protect their own territory.
They had used complicated procedures, expensive litigation fees, and obscure terminology to weave a gigantic maze.
And only they held the map.
Outsiders who trespassed could only run into walls until they collapsed from exhaustion and died.
Leo felt a wave of suffocation.
The air in the basement seemed to have been sucked out.
The mountain-like piles of documents seemed to press in on him, leaving him breathless.
He had spent two or three days trying to find a life-saving straw in this heap of laws.
In the end, he had found nothing.
The result only proved one thing: if he didn’t give in to Morganfield’s blackmail, he couldn’t resolve the lawsuit.
If he did give in, he’d become a puppet.
No matter which path he took, it was a dead end.
SLAM!
Leo abruptly grabbed the thick legal code in front of him and hurled it violently against the wall.
The pages scattered, cascading to the floor.
The loud noise made everyone jump.
Adrian stared in astonishment at the young mayor.
Ethan looked up, his expression complex.
Leo stood up, unknotted his tie, ripped it from his neck, and stuffed it into his pocket.
"Enough."
"Stop looking."
Leo said, "Pack up all this garbage."
He surveyed the basement, a room thick with the stench of despair.
"The law can’t save Pittsburgh."
"These dead words can’t save living people."
Leo strode toward the door.
"Mayor, where are you going?" Ethan called after him. "Should we keep researching? Maybe there’s another precedent..."
"There are no other precedents."
Leo pushed the door open without looking back.
"I’m getting out."
"I need to get some air."
"I can’t die in this dusty coffin."
He walked out of the records room, strode quickly down the corridor, and pressed the up button for the elevator.
He needed air. He needed to leave this City Hall, a place wrapped in layer upon layer of rules and regulations.
He had to get outside.
Now, only somewhere else was there any possibility of finding justice.