By CHRIS POWELL
At his federal trial this month was Konstantinos Diamantis, who once doubled as deputy state budget director and chief of state government’s school construction office, really trying to defend himself against bribery and extortion charges, or was he actually auditioning for a revival of the Broadway musical “Fiorello”?
Hamden’s leaders come out in support of open borders
‘This is what democracy looks like’? God help us!
Mayor feigns dismay about employee’s reinstatement
The play humorously depicts the crusade against corruption that was waged nearly a century ago by New York City’s reformist mayor, Fiorello LaGuardia. Diamantis’ explanation of his work in the school construction office would have fit right in.
According to Diamantis, he wasn’t shaking down contractors for kickbacks. No, he was charging them finder’s fees for introducing them to people who might be helpful to their companies. The contractors didn’t see it that way. Some already had pleaded guilty to paying him the bribes he demanded, understanding the payments as the condition for getting the state construction work.
Diamantis’ testimony could have been turned into another verse in “Little Tin Box,” the cleverest song from “Fiorello,” which consists of courtroom exchanges between a grand jury judge and corrupt city employees testifying before him.
Mr. X, may we ask you a question?
It’s amazing, is it not,
That the city pays you slightly less than 50 bucks a week,
Yet you’ve purchased a private yacht?
I am positive Your Honor must be joking.
Any working man can do what I have done.
For a month or two I simply gave up smoking
And I put my extra pennies one by one
Into a little tin box. …
Mr. Y, we’ve been told you don’t feel well,
And we know you’ve lost your voice.
But we wonder how you managed on the salary you make
To acquire a new Rolls-Royce.
You’re implying I’m a crook and I say no, Sir!
There is nothing in my past I care to hide.
I’ve been taking empty bottles to the grocer
And each nickel that I got was put aside
Into a little tin box. …
Mr. Z, you’re a junior official
And your income’s rather low.
Yet you’ve kept a dozen women in the very best hotels.
Would you kindly explain how so?
I can see Your Honor doesn’t pull his punches,
And it looks a trifle fishy, I’ll admit.
But for one whole week I went without my lunches
And it mounted up, Your Honor, bit by bit. …
It’s surprising that Diamantis’ jury needed a day and a half before deciding his story was suitable for musical comedy and convicting him on all 21 charges. But there won’t be much humor in the long prison sentence he’s facing.
Lately there has been a lot of sleaze if not outright corruption in state government, the consequence of longstanding one-party rule.
Among other things, the chairwoman of the Public Utilities Regulatory Authority resigned upon being caught lying to the legislature, a court, and the public. Legislators have been caught stuffing expensive “earmarks” into the state budget to benefit nominally nonprofit organizations run by their friends. The former public college system chancellor was dismissed but is getting a year of severance worth nearly $500,000 after being caught abusing his expense account, and he is guaranteed another comfortable public college job when his severance expires.
State government is a big place and some of its denizens will always cheat and steal. While Governor Lamont is as political as any other governor he is not corrupt; he sometimes has been badly served by those he trusted.
But it is starting to seem as if Connecticut could use its own Fiorello LaGuardia to run a perpetual grand jury investigating corruption and malfeasance in state government. Federal — not state — prosecutors investigated Diamantis, and the General Assembly still refuses to examine government operations, confident that there will always be plenty of money for the little tin box.
Chris Powell has written about Connecticut government and politics for many years. (CPowell@cox.net)
Chris Powell column 