Carl Hiaasen - Kick Ass - Selected Columns of Carl Hiaasen

To be so humiliated by anyone, much less an elected official, is an insult. It's only exacerbated by the irony that Dawkins himself is black.

At least he says he is.

From the Thick-as-a-Brick Department:

Metro Commissioner Larry Hawkins flies on a developer's private jet to New Orleans for wine and brunch at a fancy restaurant.

Days later, back in Miami, the commissioner votes in a way that would have helped that same developer build luxury homes on an old Indian burial site.

Noooooooo problem. The junket had no influence on Hawkins' vote—and he makes the argument with a straight face.

He sees no conflict of interest in accepting a free whirlwind day trip from a developer, then voting on a matter that directly affects that developer's fortunes. The commissioner says he has a right to a private life, and that his friendship with developer Lowell Dunn does not sway his judgment as a public servant.

Sure, Larry, and we still believe in the tooth fairy, too. It's merely coincidence that when Dunn wants something—whether it's zoning protection, or a big county construction contract—Hawkins votes to give it to him.

Whatever the commissioner lacks in common sense, he makes up for in style.

Many politicians would have settled for dinner at Cye's, or a pair of skybox tickets at Joe Robbie Stadium. Not this guy. He goes all the way to New Orleans for authentic Cajun ambience.

And he doesn't fly commercial, either. We're talking the big L—a Lear. Seats that swivel. Cute little curtains on the windows. Plus you don't have to rent the earphones.

And when Commissioner Hawkins arrives, a private limousine awaits to carry him through the historic Garden District to that elegant eatery known as Commander's Palace—jeepers, if only we'd alerted Robin Leach ...

Nobody would begrudge Hawkins a little glamour and adventure on his day off, but the Louisiana excursion wasn't the most brilliant move he's ever made. It gives not only the appearance of impropriety, but the stench of it.

Even the most chowderheaded officeholders know that, like it or not, they are judged by the company they keep. Friendship is one thing. Voting in a way that shovels money in your friend's pocket is something else.

Believe it or not, Dade County has a Code of Ethics. I'm not kidding.

It's an actual law that says Metro Commissioners can't accept gifts from anybody who does business with the county—"whether in the form of money, service, loan, travel, entertainment, hospitality, item or promise in any other form."

The Code of Ethics has been a source of much befuddlernent to the county attorney, especially when commissioners get caught in egregious escapades. The Hawkins case is no exception.

A fourth-grader can look at the ethics ordinance and know that Hawkins broke it (note the terms travel and entertainment) but the language remains strangely impenetrable to County Attorney Robert Ginsburg, who declared: "We will not comment on things that have already taken place … and we don't engage in speculation."

Or enforcement, for that matter.

By his bizarre utterance, Ginsburg seems to be saying that commissioners can do whatever they please—just don't tell him ahead of time. After it's happened, he's not interested. Perhaps the State Attorney's Office can pick up the slack.

While Hawkins insists he's done nothing wrong, it's worth noting that he didn't go out of his way to publicize his trip with Lowell Dunn. Obviously the commissioner knew it would look like a stinky deal, which it does.

Dunn owns 60 oak-shaded acres known as Madden's Hammock, an old Tequesta village and burial ground. The county staff wanted the land declared a protected parkland, which would limit development. Dunn wanted to build houses there.

Two days after returning from New Orleans, Hawkins voted in Dunn's favor, and lost 5-3.The developer says it proves he gained nothing from wining and dining a Metro commissioner.

Others might say it proves only that he needs a bigger airplane.

The CenTrust slime trail now yields the pawprints of Miami Beach Mayor Alex Daoud.

Federal investigators have discovered that Daoud received at least $35,000 in checks from CenTrust corporations soon after voting to approve a large dock at the swanky island home of CenTrust chairman David Paul.

Daoud's attorney insists that his client got the money in exchange for legal services—which is exactly what any creative defense lawyer would say, given the circumstances.

But what an odd way for the mayor to receive legal fees. At least $10,000 was sent to his home instead of his law office, and the senior partner in the law firm says Daoud never mentioned getting any money from CenTrust. Perhaps the $35,000 slipped the mayor's mind.

Another peculiar detail about the payments: A fat chunk, $25,000, came from a Kansas City insurance company that is a subsidiary of CenTrust. A former executive of that firm has told bank examiners that he received numerous directives to send $5,000 checks to Daoud.

When the insurance executive objected to these requests, he said, David Paul personally phoned and told him to pay the mayor or "jobs would be terminated," according to investigators' reports.

Kansas City does seem like a weird route for those legal fees. A suspicious person might wonder if somebody was trying to bury the paperwork. (Daoud recently produced a retainer agreement with the insurance firm which was dated May 1988; bank examiners have questioned its authenticity.)

Never known as a shy man, the mayor has been conspicuously unavailable in the days since the Boston Globe broke this story. Presumably he is busy scouring his files for some shred of evidence—a billing notice would be nice—proving that the CenTrust money was a legal fee and not a payoff.

Don't be surprised if something turns up. Daoud has already produced an "attorney's letter" describing legal work supposedly performed for CenTrust. Bank examiners said they couldn't verify most of the services. They also said Daoud's letter had not surfaced in a May 1989 bank audit, as it should have.

Again, perhaps it was only an oversight.

It is unusual, though, for the mayor of a major city to take such an ardent interest in a private citizen's boat dock. The fact that the citizen happened to be a wealthy campaign contributor probably had nothing to do with it.

In 1987, David Paul had wanted to sink 20 pilings into Biscayne Bay and build a teak landing for a 94-foot yacht. Some of his La Gorce Island neighbors fought back.

Ultimately Paul agreed to build a less ambitious dock, and the Miami Beach City Commission decided to give him a variance. Voting in Paul's favor was Mayor Daoud—but he never mentioned doing any legal work for the S&L. Under state law, he was required to disclose any potential conflict of interest.

Nine days after the vote, Daoud began receiving the CenTrust corporate checks. Later he made an unusual appearance before the Metro Commission to show his support for Paul's dock application. The structure was approved.

This interesting chain of events would never have been connected had not CenTrust gone belly up. That's when investigators got a look at the books. They said the payments to Daoud "are suspected of buying favorable consideration from the mayor with regard to Mr. Paul's attempts to gain variances which would allow him to build a massive dock … "

It will be intriguing to hear Daoud's explanation for his failure to reveal his CenTrust income before the vote. Perhaps it was yet another innocent oversight.

And perhaps the mayor has a dream of a kinder, gentler Miami Beach where every citizen with a 94-foot yacht gets a chance to have a teak boat dock.