Why has Vince Fumo built such a formidable legal moat around his Green Street mansion-in-progress?

The early morning sun peeks over the convent, casting beams onto the mansion next door. Not that anybody notices here on the 2200 block of Green Street. The first of October has served up a taste of summer, but those walking by the four-story brownstone only seem interested in getting around a trio of pickup trucks, including one vehicle parked across the sidewalk.

Some do glance at the mansion. But only for a second or so. And those who do take notice see pizza menus, crumpled potato chip bags and pages from a newspaper scattered across the patchy lawn. Every few minutes, a guy emerges from the house and grabs a piece of scaffolding. There's not much else to see.

The home's owner, State Sen. Vince Fumo, would be pleased by the apparent lack of curiosity. That's because Fumo — Philly's foremost lawyer/ banker/ power broker/ genius — doesn't want anybody to scrutinize the home he will soon occupy. Nor does Jane Scaccetti, Fumo's wife. To that end, Scaccetti obtained a gag order last year from Judge Albert Sheppard.

The order, which Sheppard issued for "security" reasons, bars the city's Department of Licenses and Inspections (L?) from releasing permits related to Fumo's home improvement project. The order also prohibits L? from discussing the project.

That the Fumos would seek to block curious folks from checking out their Green Street castle is, well, curious. While Fumo is known to guard his every move, the man has been South Philly's strongest public official for the past decade. When Fumo moves uptown, people notice. On top of that, Fumo is pouring a pile of money into his home, making, as he recently told the Inquirer, "a financial commitment to this neighborhood that I've never made before to any neighborhood."

For 18 months, workers hired by Fumo have been gutting and restoring the 29-room, 19,200-square-foot home. When they're through, Fumo's mansion will look something like it did when art patron Samuel S. Fleisher had it built in 1884. Due to the veil of a court order, however, some matters remain shrouded in mystery.

To wit, has Fumo's project turned into a money pit? And a more germane question — if the courts hide the estimated cost of the Fumos' renovation, how will citizens be able to track the accuracy of the property's assessed value?

Citing his family's security, Fumo has refused to release any documents connected to building permits on his Green Street home. Fumo has said building plans and blueprints submitted to L? include sensitive information about a new security system. However, the permits themselves contain nothing more than a contractor's or architect's name, a property address, and estimated value of construction. The permits also include a general description of work.

On Sept. 26, after obtaining two of the six known building permits tied to Fumo's renovation, City Paper asked his Senate spokesman for copies of all six permits — not building plans or blueprints. City Paper also asked Fumo for an explanation of the "interior alterations" permit, which estimated the cost of interior renovations (not including plumbing or electrical work) at $44,950.

In both instances, Fumo refused. Through his Senate spokesman, Gary Tuma, Fumo claimed that releasing such information would violate the court order.

"There's no way Senator Fumo or I will disobey that order or discuss anything about that house," Tuma said.

"I just wanted you to understand that subcontractors and contractors are the ones who get permits," Tuma said. "All of the permits that were obtained were obtained by others. [Fumo] has not gotten any permits."

L? requires that architects and contractors reveal "the actual contract value" of a construction project when acquiring building permits. L? asks architects and contractors to then estimate the cost of work so the agency can establish permit fees. Those fees are calculated on the basis of construction estimates.

L? permits are "subject to revocation if full information is not provided or is misrepresented."

Beyond fees, the estimates listed on building permits help city officials establish the tax value of a rehabilitated property. City officials say they will use the building permits when they re-assess the value of Fumo's mansion later this month.

The $44,950 "interior alterations" permits renovations "to include removal and replacement of interior non-bearing partitions." Ex-L? Commissioner Bennett Levin and other L? employees said this permit covers interior work on Fumo's home except for plumbing and electrical work. (L? spokesman Tom McNally reported that the city issued a total of six permits for Fumo's house covering plumbing work, electrical work, an addition, and exterior sealant work known as "dryvit.")

The "interior alterations" permit obtained on behalf of Fumo's house applies to the removal and replacement of interior walls, carpentry, window replacement and sheet rock, among other items. According to McNally and Levin, cosmetic items such as painting, cabinets and wallpaper are exempted from the permit.

The "interior alterations" permit, which L? issued in May 1995 prior to construction, reveals that architect Louis DiGregorio estimated the cost of interior work at $44,950. The document also shows that L? charged Fumo $560 for the permit.

According to Levin, the permit was issued to allow workers to transform eight apartments into a single-family home, not including plumbing and electrical costs.

City Paper contacted several local architects to comment on the "interior alterations" permit. City Paper laid out the exact dimensions of Fumo's Green Street property, its previous condition (eight apartments), and the exact language contained on the permit. City Paper then asked what the architects thought about the estimate listed on the permit.

Though plumbing and electrical costs aren't included in the "interior alterations" permit, the architects said the $44,950 is well below a reasonable cost for restoring the interior of a brownstone mansion such as Fumo's.

"[$44,950] doesn't sound, for that kind of space — even for interior space — accurate," said Gray Smith, an expert in historical renovations. "It's definitely too low."

"The work that would go into that [interior] is not $44,000," said Sean O'Rourke, a professor of architecture at Philadelphia College of Textiles and Sciences. "$44,000 seems low."

"Could $44,950 be a low number [for a four-story mansion]?" added Jerry Roller, owner of J.K. Roller Architecture. "Yeah. It is. Is it low by a factor of 10? Nah. But it's low."

However, all three stress that when it comes to L? permits, Philadelphia contractors and architects routinely estimate construction work below actual cost. The architects also said L? rarely questions figures listed on permits.

Beyond the seemingly low construction estimate, L? undercharged Fumo on the $44,950 permit by $625. Based on L? code, Fumo should have paid $1,185, not $560, for his permit.

Under L? regulations, the fee for an interior alterations permit is calculated via the estimated cost of construction. L?'s formula works this way: the first $1,000 of work costs $55 and the second $1,000 of work also costs $55. L? then charges $25 for "each additional" $1,000 of work.

Thus a $44,950 estimate listed on a permit would garner $1,185 for L?. (The $285 fee on the second permit obtained by City Paper is accurate.)

Levin and McNally cited a lone exemption from the formula. In Fumo's case, though, the exemption would yield a $3,400 fee, significantly higher than $560 or $1,185.

In addition, John Higgins, the L? building reviews specialist who approved the $44,950 permit, said Fumo's fee was based on the basic formula. (Higgins declined to say anything else, citing the gag order.)

On Oct. 11, Tuma said the senator was not aware of the low fee but intends to "fully comply with the law" and will pay all required L? fees.

"There is always going to be a discrepancy [between estimates listed on permits and actual dollar value of work]," Tuma claimed.

The only thing wrong, Tuma added, was City Paper's plans to publish an article about the senator's home and building permits. Tuma claimed that would endanger Fumo's family.

"[Fumo] just feels that what he's doing to the interior of his house is not anybody else's business," said Tuma. "The value of the work is a security issue and can affect the safety of his family."

After that, a lawyer representing Scaccetti went to court on Oct. 2, seeking to penalize City Paper for possessing the permits. Scaccetti's complaint against City Paper is pending before Sheppard.

And the state's most powerful pol hiding basic public information behind a unique court ruling.

The first word of Fumo's building permits arrived on the front page of the Daily News one year ago. As the tabloid explained, Scaccetti got Sheppard to impound building permits regarding her home last Oct. 25.

According to documents in the Court of Common Pleas, Scaccetti worried for the safety of her then-6-year-old daughter. Scaccetti's lawyer, Robert Scandone, told the court that "public advocacy and media attention" had combined to threaten Fumo's family. Scandone noted that unnamed persons had made "various threats to [the family's] personal security."

These people, Scandone wrote, "violently disagree" with Fumo's legislative stances.

Scandone never named those who allegedly threatened the senator and his family —"Why would I do that?" Scandone told the Daily News. Yet the lawyer's message was evident. If Fumo's building plans remained open to the public, would-be killers could access blueprints at L?, learn about "electronic safeguards... including a sensitive home security system," then get Fumo's travel schedule from his Harrisburg office.

During a Sept. 26 phone conversation, Sheppard recalled the Scaccetti order as a matter involving "genuine concern about publication of specifics of the security system."

Sheppard then expressed surprise at his own order, saying he never intended to seal financial information on the Green Street permits.

"No, no, no," Sheppard said."I have no idea about that. I never saw any figures."

Sheppard said his primary reason for sealing the permits was Deputy City Solicitor Jim Jordan's decision to accept Scaccetti's request.

"When all the lawyers agree, there's no reason for me to question it," Sheppard said.

Jordan did not return several calls seeking comment on the city's decision not to fight Scaccetti's request.

Sheppard isn't the only one surprised. Levin, who immediately recalled the case when contacted by City Paper —"Fumo called me in the spring of '95 and asked me to make sure he had all the required permits," the former L? commissioner said — did not believe that Fumo's permits were sealed.

When Scandone contacted City Paper on Sept. 27, the lawyer vehemently argued that the newspaper "could be in violation of the order" for "improperly" getting hold of two permits.

However, Sheppard's order restrains onlythe "City of Philadelphia, Department of Licenses and Inspections ... from disclosing any permits, drawings, plans or any other information in their possession concerning the renovation, construction and installation work" at Fumo's Green Street home.

In addition, building permits are routinely distributed through various city agencies, contractors and architects.

Asked why Scaccetti wanted the permits sealed, Scandone said the answer is "simple."

"Just having the name on the permit of the contractor could be enough [for somebody] to get everythingthat we're trying to stop," Scandone said.

If everybody knew Fumo's contractor's name, Scandone elaborated, the "possibility" existed for a Fumo enemy to obtain alarm system plans. Scandone said it was possible that such an enemy could approach the construction firm and convince them to release security system information that would endanger the senator's family.

Pressed on the matter, Scandone maintained that building permits — documents seemingly available for public consumption in every other case but Fumo's — can lead to mayhem.

Asked if it was logical to believe that anyone hired by Fumo could — or would — release sensitive information, Scandone replied angrily.

"You don't have to have my logic," Scandone said. "It's really unimportant whether my logic is valid or not. What you don't understand or care is what my client's concerned about. The senator is away a lot and she's left alone."

Yet Scandone, who said he expectedCity Paper's article on Fumo's house to be"as ridiculous and ludicrous as what the Daily News did," could not say why nobody had asked to seal building permits before Scaccetti.

"Because somebody else did not file a petition does not make it wrong," Scandone said.

Scandone also maintained there was nothing political about Jordan's decision to sign off on an order which hides information usually open for public inspection.

"The city, at least their legal staff, has a lot more integrity, understanding and compassion than does the media," said Scandone.

On Oct. 2, lawyers representing City Paper asked Sheppard "to modify or vacate" his original gag order. During that meeting, Scandone filed a complaint on Scaccetti's behalf, asking Sheppard to find City Paper in contempt of court.

Attorney Richard Sprague also appeared in court on Oct. 2, one of eight lawyers who convened in Sheppard's chambers that afternoon.

Earlier, Sprague warned City Paper of the "potential risks you may create to the safety of Senator Vincent Fumo's wife and daughter." In a Sept. 27 letter, Sprague claimed City Paper made "repeated and intrusive inquiries regarding renovations," questions which Sprague stressed "are causing Senator Fumo's wife harm, danger, fear and anxiety."

Sprague wrote that it was "entirely inappropriate for you to invade the private life of Mrs. Fumo and her daughter, neither of whom is in any way public figures ... I strongly urge you to see that these activities cease immediately, and that there be no further publicity concerning the Fumo family residence."

For those who don't know, Sprague is a Great White in a Philadelphia loaded with legal sharks, the lawyer who represented accused killer John DuPont and the man who personally won a $24 million libel suit against the Inquirer.

Ask anybody who's ever redone a house and they're bound to tell you that restoration is a credit-rating killer. When it comes to retooling old homes, there are three issues: money, money and money.

Gus Constant bought the Green Street property in 1965, then converted it into apartments. Constant, who sold the mansion to Fumo for $225,000 in 1994, explained that he never had the wherewithal to restore the home to its Fleisher-era glory.

Now that Fumo is doing the work — and spending the money — Constant is tickled.

"I'm so happy," said Constant, a weekly visitor to the worksite at his former house. "No one could do a finer job. [Fumo] is totally restoring it. It will probably be the grandest house in Philadelphia when he's done."

The list of changes, Constant reported, is impressive. Workers "gutted" the entire interior, knocking out several walls in order to reconfigure the property. The mansion now has new windows, "at least 50 custom windows, oak windows with vinyl tracks," according to Constant.

There's more, said Constant. The large stones which make up the foundation have been "repointed," a labor-intensive process in which the stones are cleaned and old mortar is restored. Fumo even replaced an elevator.

"I asked the workers, 'Why in the world did you add a new elevator?'" recalled Constant, a retiree and former president of the Vesper Rowing Club. "They said [Fumo] wanted it done... when you have money, you can do anything you want."

"Look, my dining room is going to be [Fumo's] kitchen," Constant chuckled. "I said to his wife, 'What a big kitchen! Won't it be too big?' She just laughed and said, 'We Italians love big kitchens.'"

New wiring. New plumbing fixtures. New cabinets. New moldings. An addition. And documents at L?'s Zoning Board of Appeals show that Fumo will construct a garage in his back yard facing Brandywine Street.

"It's a small fortune in what they're doing," he said. "The senator is investing, after the purchase price," a significant sum.

Constant is not the only one who placed a lofty price tag on Fumo Manor. Many say the senator isn't sparing expense.

John Kaiser, a business agent for the Carpenter's and Joiners District Council Metropolitan, says word on the street has Fumo spending a "huge" amount on the project.

Architects contacted by City Paper all stressed that a project like Fumo's could run anywhere from $500,000 on up.

"It would be easy to spend [$500,000] with that kind of restoration project," Smith said. "There's so much custom-built stuff that goes into that kind of thing, so much specialty labor. To find a guy who does plaster moldings, just to find one, is a tough thing to do. Just to schedule him is tough. And then you've got to pay him an arm and a leg."

"There's no question that the contractor, by being on the job [for over one year], is running up a significant bill," O'Rourke added.

Tom Akins, an engineer with R.S. Means Co., a Massachusetts firm which publishes construction cost data books, says the price for redoing brownstones can be high. Akins should know. During the late '80s, Akins rehabilitated several brownstone properties in Boston's Back Bay for banking clients.

Given specific informationabout Fumo's renovation (exact dimensions of the Green Street property, its previous condition and the exact language contained on the permit), Akins doubted the price tag listed on the $44,950 "interior alterations" document.

"If you think about it, he's not going to need a kitchen and bathroom on every floor," Akins said. "He's going to have to tear out all those kitchens and some of those bathrooms."

"The lowest figure that I've ever heard of on redoing the interior of a four-story brownstone is $100,000," Akins added.

Using the 1996 Means Building Construction Cost Data (54th edition), Akins can provide base costs for any type of construction work. Akins notes the book is "widely used" by contractors across America in order to provide price estimates on construction work.

To alter a brownstone from apartments to a single-family home, Akins said a contractor would "obviously have to go in there and tear down a lot of walls." On top of that, door frames and non-bearing partitions would need rebuilding.

"Doing a major renovation, you pretty much tear out anything that's old," Akins said.

According to the Means book, contractors charge a base of 94 cents per square foot to gut drywall. That figure does not include estimates of a contractor's overhead and profit. In addition, Akins said historic brownstones usually have "lath and plaster" walls, which carry a base price of $1.89 per square foot.

Based on that figure, Akins said Fumo would spend a minimum of $4,465 to remove one-fourth the walls within the 19,200-square-foot building. Akins stressed that $4,465 was probably low.

"You're looking at $1,500 per unit just to do the perimeter walls," Akins said. "That doesn't include ripping up kitchens and bathrooms."

On windows, Akins said the minimum for vinyl window replacement was $7.20 to demolish a 12-square-foot window and $350 for a new 3-foot-by-5-foot vinyl window. Those figures do not include a contractor's overhead or profit.

Akins said the minimum cost for replacing 29 windows on a brownstone would be $10,358. Given that Fumo's home features many irregular windows — including a massive arc window in the front — Akins said the cost is higher.

"That's got to be $22,000 right there, easy, just the windows, without interior trim, window sills, the window trim," Akins said.

Akins noted the average cost for window trim, according to Means, is $60 per window.

None of these base estimates, Akins stressed, includes carpentry, stucco work or things not included on the permit, such as drywall.

As an example, Akins cited the "average cost" of restoring a 12-foot-by-15-foot kitchen as $22,000 without labor costs.

"One hundred hours of labor on a kitchen, which is reasonable, might cost another $10,000," said Akins.

While experts bandy about construction estimates on Fumo's mansion, all stress a single point: nobody should compare the high cost of construction at Fumo's home with the $44,950 permit. The interior work, say all, would account for just some portion of the final bill.

Tuma, who is paid to address Senate issues, would not discuss construction. But Tuma "warns"City Paper not to view the $44,950 listed on the document as a matter of importance.

"That [$44,950] represents a fraction of the permitting work." Tuma said. "[And] there are many things being done that would not require permits, things like painting, things that are a matter of personal taste. Also, there have been many permits taken out, including one just recently."

When asked where $44,950 fit into the overall percentage of construction, however, Tuma cited the court order.

McNally also cited Sheppard's ruling as the reason for not releasing detailed information.

"It's not that I'm not unwilling [to discuss the $44,950 permit]. I'm restrained by the courts, I cannot disclose any information related to the processes concerning [Fumo's] permits," McNally said. "[But] in general, there is work that is excluded from the [interior] permit process, a number of expensive items. Ornamental plaster, drywalls, cabinets, flooring, ceramic tiles, painting, to name a few."

For now, the city taxes Vince Fumo's Green Street mansion at the assessed value of $48,000.

The city's Board of Revision of Taxes (BRT) assesses all property at 32 percent of the market value. Which for Fumo's Green Street house, last valued at $150,000 on the market, is $48,000.

According to BRT evaluator Tom McCole, Fumo's property has been "downwardly adjusted" at the senator's request because it has remained vacant while under construction. Thus its market value of $200,000 has fallen to $150,000.

With the renovation and subsequent occupancy (Fumo recently said he will move in before Christmas), the property's value will climb. The only question is, how much?

David Glancey, the BRT's chairman, said the taxable value of a property depends on location "more than anything else... it's the driving force." Yet Glancey said "anything that would clearly add value to the property" will help the BRT determine a final value of a property.

Rehabilitation "would trigger us to add some value to the market value," Glancey said in reference to Fumo's new property. "It may not be dollar for dollar — cost does not always equal value — but it would be something."

What adds value? According to Glancey, items like new kitchens, new bathrooms, new windows — basically anything new. And the BRT always looks to L?'s permit to see what's been done.

McNally agrees. The financial data on building permits, he said, are important in gauging the final taxable value of Fumo's home.

"Getting a copy of our permits would be a good start... on determining a relative value of the property," McNally said.

"As someone who deals with the end result of the permit process, I see it every week, every day," Glancey laughed. "Most contractors want to pay the least amount of fees. Most of the time, they're going to low-ball" the cost of work.

Though Glancey would not comment on Fumo's home directly, he described the process of assessing a high-priced renovation of a "single-family home in the Art Museum area" as "an interesting problem."

Glancey said there are few elaborate homes in that neighborhood. Because many brownstones have been converted to apartments or condos, Glancey said the BRT may look "to Society Hill, maybe Chestnut Hill" for comparison purposes. The BRT must then decide how much the neighborhood takes away from the home's value "because it's not as nice an area."

Glancey added one more note. Since L? building permits often are misleading, the BRT would like to inspect a rehab property on its own. Of course, that's "up to the property owner."

"We don't have any right to go into a property," said Glancey. "If we ask and they say no, we have to live with that. "

Tuma would not say whether Fumo is prepared to allow BRT evaluators into his home for an inspection.

"[Fumo] intends to comply with law," said Tuma. "If [the BRT] are operating the way they are supposed to be operating — within the law — he will comply with them and with the law. Of that, there is absolutely no question."

Tuma then suggested that Fumo's mansion will be worth less after the renovation.

"You could argue that, because it was formerly an eight-family, that the renovation may decrease the value of the property," Tuma said.

The final value of Fumo's property will soon be known. Gene Davey, the BRT's administrator, said a new value will be ready by the "end of the first week of November" or sooner.

Davey also repeated Glancey's assertion. Determining a tax value for Fumo's home won't be easy.

The 2200 block of Green Street "is not the most attractive location for a single-family home," Davey said. "The problem you've got over there is, 'What's the median value?' There are no benchmarks."

Without stating specifics, Davey said Fumo's elaborate rehab job may yield a "limited market property" where, despite improvements, the market value remains low. Davey said a property that maximizes its "highest of best use" typically fits in with its surroundings. But with Fumo's Green Street home, the majority of neighboring properties aren't single-family homes.

Fumo's restoration project, said Davey, is contrary to a real estate principle known as "conformity of use." Typically, Davey said, actual value of properties are "in balance" with sales figures of nearby homes.

Since Fumo paid $225,000 for the home, then reportedly spent far more on repairs, Davey surmised that Fumo may have "over-improved" the property, a situation where rehabilitation does not increase the market value of a property.

"You can look all around the city where people have dumped loads of money into their homes and then can't get the value for it," Davey said. "That's called over-improvement."

Save for Fumo, the only people who can address questions surrounding the $44,950 permit are L?, architect Louis DiGregorio, and the contractors. To date, none are talking.

DiGregorio, who's based in Thornton, PA, did not return phone calls over the span of three weeks, though City Paper left detailed questions about the "interior alterations" permit.

City Paper has learned little about DiGregorio except that he has donated $5,000 to Fumo campaigns since 1992. In addition, a November Inquirer article on Fumo's clout at the Delaware River Port Authority (DRPA) reported that DiGregorio took home $136,531 in funds for work on the $1.7 million expansion of the Penn's Landing Heliport.

Michael Treacy, owner of Historical Properties Inc. and project manager for Fumo's home improvement, also ducked questions concerning the project.

"Whatever I say will probably be misconstrued," Treacy added before hanging up the phone.

City Paper was unable to speak with two others connected with the project, South Philadelphia contractor Michael Mezzaroba and carpenter Jay Vorchheimer of Newtown.

L? workers were also silent. Higgins, the L? inspector who approved plans on the $44,950 permit, approved another inspector's work on the $9,000 duct permit and rejected Fumo's request for a zoning variance on a new garage, declined comment.

"I can't answer that question," Higgins said when asked about the $44,950 permit.

L? officials were also quiet. According to McNally and Levin, L? Chief of Staff Anthony Caiazza is the official who bears ultimate responsibility for building permits and L?'s receipt of fees. Caiazza, who is also subject to the gag order, did not return several phone calls left with his secretary seeking comment on Fumo's rehab project.

According to Levin, McNally and confidential sources, Caiazza isa friend of Fumo's and once donated $375 to a Fumo campaign.

Levin, who appointed Caiazza in 1992, maintained the L? official has never done a favor for a public official.

"I know that Tony's a friend of Fumo's, yes he's had a relationship with Fumo," Levin said. "[But] I don't think there's a perception problem with Tony overseeing Fumo's permits. You've got to give people credit. Tony's a fine gentleman with integrity."

Though he would not discuss Fumo's case, McNally also said that Caiazza's friendship with high-ranking political officials has no impact on his work.

"I wouldn't find that to be a problem, unless there was some indication that would come to light indicating otherwise," McNally said.

Tuma declined to discuss Caiazza except to say that public officials and politicians often have dealings with municipal employees in which both parties share a relationship beyond official duties.

"How can that be avoided?" Tuma asked in regards to Caiazza's possible role in handling the Fumo permits. "This would be true of many elected officials and many other people in city government. These people work together on many other things. It's not surprising."

One L? employee did speak. Building Inspector Ernie Waninger said he was ordered not to inspect Fumo's home [on Green Street] when he was transferred to L?'s South District office at 11th & Wharton Streetsthis June. L? inspectors in the South District office cover the Green Street/ Art Museum area.

"I was told by Dominic Verdi not to inspect [Fumo's Green Street home]," Waninger said. "It's in my area but he's got that particular job. He kept that one after I was transferred here. He's been going there. I haven't been there at all."

Verdi, a building inspector who supervises L?'s South Philly field office, began handling the Fumo case when permits were first issued for the project and continued to inspect the property following his promotion to supervisor. Verdi declined comment on the situation.

Tuma called City Paper again on Oct. 3. But the Senate aide didn't call to clear up City Paper's questions.

"I was just talking about it yesterday with the senator," Tuma said. "And after what he's been through with this, he would warn anybody that people who want to invest money in Philadelphia or do work in the city might be in for a lot of headaches."

"Sometimes, he feels he would have been better off buying a farm in Chester County and keeping an apartment in the city," Tuma continued. "Look, he's got a wife and daughter and he wants to be very careful. What do [the permits] have to do with his job as an elected official? What does this have to do with the positions he takes on state legislative matters? What does this have to with his legislative work on behalf of constituents?"

Tuma's emotional statement aside, Bennett Levin can't believe that Fumo has fought media attention of the Green Street mansion. In Levin's opinion, questions should not surprise Fumo.

"Fumo had to know the press would look into this," Levin said. "That would have to be the first assumption."