As predicted, I won the Motion to Vacate filed by the defendant. It was pretty funny; although I was well-prepared and organized, I didn't get to say one word.
The defendant did enough to help my cause. He started out arguing the two judgments already against the company he was representing. He told the judge he was representing Rowling Real Estate, which I had dropped from the case early on when it became apparent that Capital Commercial Investments was the responsible party. He was using that to show the judge that Rowling Real Estate owed me nothing, as per the court document issued after I dropped that entity from my case.
The judge asked me if I'd dropped Rowling Real Estate. I said 'yes.' That was the only thing I said all morning! She then told Rowling that, since his real estate company was not involved, he had no standing in this court, at which point he became the representative of CCI.
I recognized early on that these two mutts were going to play ping pong with their two companies. At first, Rowling Real Estate was the admitted culprit. At the Trial de Novo, it was CCI. Research revealed that William Rowling was an officer of CCI, and his pal, the other defendant, is president of Capital Commercial Investments. He was definitely involved, and had no involvement with Rowling Real Estate, so I determined CCI was the entity responsible for the theft of my belongings.
After Bill Rowling presented himself as representing CCI, he proceeded to attempt to try the case all over again. Rowling Real Estate was responsible. CCI was not responsible. He didn't know he was an officer of CCI.
At this point, the judge said, "Sir, how could you not know you were an officer of this company?"
It was pretty funny. The judge finally told him that she saw no reason to vacate the decision of two previous judges and the motion to vacate was denied.
As I was leaving, Rowling was waiting outside. He wanted to bargain. I told him I'd take $1800, and if he acts now, I'll waive the court and process server fees. He whined that the first judge only awarded me $700. I laughed and said, "I bet you wish you'd jumped on that offer!"
The next step is filing another debtor's exam. That means paying the court $60 for filing fees, and another $100 to serve these two mutts with papers. They have to bring in their books, I write down bank account numbers to determine which accounts I will loot, then I have to get a marshal to visit the bank and extract a check out of the lucky account.
I'm not in a huge hurry. Every month I'm not paid, interest is compounding monthly. That's like free money and it adds up. There are other penalties I can and will ask for.
Should the debtors exam fail, there are tougher options I can pursue. The mutts could lose their drivers' licenses, which would be amusing for a pair of realtors.
Although I kind of hope that the debtors exam will finish this, I am a bit interested in the harsher collection tactics I am allowed by the court system.
I will not be merciful.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Well here it is, nearly November, and this thing is still not resolved. Here is a list of everything I've done so far:
1. Small claims filing. Went to court. Won. Judge awarded me $700.00. I was asking for $1800.00.
2. Defendant appeals in Superior Court. Loses. I am awarded $1800.00.
3. I file for a Debtor's Exam. The day the defendant is served, he files for a Motion to Vacate.
4. Judge at Debtor's Exam postpones until after the Motion to Vacate.
5. Defendant fails to appear at the motion hearing.
6. Debtor's Exam; defendant fails to appear, my bike throws a rod on my way to the courthouse.
I phone the court to tell them I can't be there.
7. I get a notice from the court in the mail yesterday. Another Motion to Vacate is scheduled.
So how many times do these assholes get to file Motions to Vacate? Well, the advisor told me that the defendant may have had a legitimate excuse, as did I. But that does not excuse his failure to appear at the debtor's exam. This is getting annoying. I'll win the Motion to Vacate, as the jackass is now trying to claim he doesn't work for Capital Commercial Investments, he's "just helping out."
I've got documents from the California State Board of Realty site that lists him as an officer of CCI until August, 2010. Since all this began back in 2007, he was an officer at that time.
Furthermore, he's been the one appearing in court and filing motions. "Just helping out?"
Yeah right. It's the weirdest thing...he's acting like none of the California documents linking him with CCI matter. They do matter a great deal, they are the evidence I will use to smack this bitch back to the debtor's exam.
Apparently what happens there is, you look at their books, find their bank accounts and valuables and real property. You pick one, get a marshal to hit the bank and remove what's owed. I want punitive damages as well. This has dragged on long enough, and the court should be tired of their transparent shenanigans.
1. Small claims filing. Went to court. Won. Judge awarded me $700.00. I was asking for $1800.00.
2. Defendant appeals in Superior Court. Loses. I am awarded $1800.00.
3. I file for a Debtor's Exam. The day the defendant is served, he files for a Motion to Vacate.
4. Judge at Debtor's Exam postpones until after the Motion to Vacate.
5. Defendant fails to appear at the motion hearing.
6. Debtor's Exam; defendant fails to appear, my bike throws a rod on my way to the courthouse.
I phone the court to tell them I can't be there.
7. I get a notice from the court in the mail yesterday. Another Motion to Vacate is scheduled.
So how many times do these assholes get to file Motions to Vacate? Well, the advisor told me that the defendant may have had a legitimate excuse, as did I. But that does not excuse his failure to appear at the debtor's exam. This is getting annoying. I'll win the Motion to Vacate, as the jackass is now trying to claim he doesn't work for Capital Commercial Investments, he's "just helping out."
I've got documents from the California State Board of Realty site that lists him as an officer of CCI until August, 2010. Since all this began back in 2007, he was an officer at that time.
Furthermore, he's been the one appearing in court and filing motions. "Just helping out?"
Yeah right. It's the weirdest thing...he's acting like none of the California documents linking him with CCI matter. They do matter a great deal, they are the evidence I will use to smack this bitch back to the debtor's exam.
Apparently what happens there is, you look at their books, find their bank accounts and valuables and real property. You pick one, get a marshal to hit the bank and remove what's owed. I want punitive damages as well. This has dragged on long enough, and the court should be tired of their transparent shenanigans.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Cheaters Didn't Prosper
"Default judgment for Barbara Graham in the amount of $1800."
With these words, a judge ended a year long frustrating and annoying battle between me and a couple of real estate hucksters of dubious ethics and slimy business practices.
It started in January of 2008. I was living in a 900 square foot house behind an identical 2 bedroom in the front. I'd lived there since 2000, and through three landlords.
The last owner was a victim of the misleading lending boom of 2007. He barely spoke English, and worked at a pizza joint. Somehow he was persuaded that he could afford to purchase a $555,000 property on a pizza man's salary.
In January 2008, I came home to find a notice on my front door. It was to inform me that the property would be auctioned off on January 31st.
This was a new experience for me, so I called Legal Aid. Basically, they told me three things. If the property was purchased by a bank, I would receive a 30 day notice. If purchased by an investor, I'd be told where to send the rent check. And finally, a bank would likely offer some compensation to help me move.
If a property is foreclosed, the renter does not get their deposit back.This can result in financial hardship for the renter, which is why the bank may offer financial assistance.
January passed, and February and March with no word. I started looking for a new place in March, and found a suitable place in April.
Since I hadn't heard anything from a bank, realtor, or new owner I decided to take my time moving. After all, I'd accumulated a lot of stuff in the past eight years, most of which was in my basement. The basement served as a storage space for things you might keep in a garage if you had one. I didn't have one.
By May, the house was fairly empty, save for a few items that were too large to move without a truck. I'd need a truck to move the things in the basement as well. I was living at the new place, and nibbling away at the smaller items still living on Dodson.
I'd arranged for a truck one Saturday in May; a truck that never showed up. That following week, I rode by to pick up a few more items. Imagine my surprise to see the doors of the house wide open, and some guy mowing weeds in the front. The house was empty, all my possessions gone!
"What's going on here?" I asked.
"You tell me," he replied. When I pressed him, he told me a realtor, Bill Rowling, had had my possessions disposed of. Fishing tackle, a parrot stand, an art deco kitchen table, computer and motorcycle accessories, a bicycle, dozens of gardening tools, and worst off all, a box of karate trophies won in the 1970s. Worthless, but sentimentally valuable and irreplaceable.
Of course, I immediately called Rowling, who played the fool and tried to assert that I'd abandoned my possessions and the property. His logic was based on the fact that I'd had the electricity shut off. Well,duh, I didn't want to pay two electric bills!
However, I'd not received any contact from the purchaser of the property, and so was taking it easy, visiting the property a few times a week to remove belongings. Sometimes I'd press gang a friend with a van to help me. Other times I would just fill my motorcycle panniers with smaller possessions.
Despite the rational argument that my presence obviously demonstrated that I had not abandoned the property, Rowling persisted in his assertion that I'd left over $1800 worth of possessions and walked away.
Rowling coyly refused to tell me the name of the bank back east that actually owned the property. At one point, he mentioned compensation in the amount of $700. He claimed that he had no way of notifying me before emptying the house. A notice stuck to the front door would have handled that problem nicely, but he never made the attempt.
The Latino family in the front house had moved out, but the last time I'd been by, their basement still had possessions in it. That basement was also empty.
This neighborhood was primarily Latino, and small, older houses. I believe that Mr. Rowling was a very busy fellow indeed, as foreclosures spread throughout the low income regions of San Diego.
It is quite likely that Rowling is accustomed to doing as he likes without challenge. After several months of jerking me around, imagine his surprise when he was served papers to appear in Small Claims Court. I'd waited to launch this case until the last minute. Let him sit back, all fat and complacent, thinking he'd gotten away with something.
On the phone, he'd come across as smug and unpleasant. In court, in person, it turned out he was a liar as well. That is called 'perjury' when you lie to a judge.
Preparatory to this case, I went online to find prices on the items I could remember losing. The table was sheer luck. It was an art deco style from the 1940s. I found it online, for $280.00!
The parrot stand had an oak base, and cost $250.00. Some of the fishing lures sell for $5.00 each. The gardening tools; rakes, shovels, hoes etc. added up as well. My final tally, $1800.00. That is the amount I asked for in Small Claims court.
Small Claims court is located up on Clairemont Mesa, where Traffic Court is also held. Mr. Rowling was late, as he'd been sitting in the wrong courtroom for ten minutes. He finally came in with a co-worker in tow. This was Rowlings "expert witness," an authority on clearing out peoples' possessions from rental properties.
Rowling refused the offer of arbitration, a method used to help clear the court dockets. Nope, he wanted a judge. He didn't get one, we came before an attorney who was acting as a judge for this case.
In small claims court, the plaintiff and defendant exchange evidence. Rowling had a series of misleading photos, taken of the interior of the house after it had been emptied, and photos of a partially empty basement. These photos did not represent tthe house as I'd left it three days prior to his company's removal of my possessions.
As plaintiff, I went first. I laid out my case before the judge in a clear, concise manner. Then it was Rowling's turn to take the stand. It was a Festival of lies from the very beginning of his testimony.
He again claimed that I had abandoned the property. Of course, he couldn't explain why I'd stopped by, but didn't let logic stop him. He went on to claim that I'd left the house unlocked. Untrue.
He claimed that I'd trashed the place before I left. Also untrue.
He claimed that the sum total value of the items he'd removed was under $300.
Then his witness took the stand. He introduced himself as having years of experience clearing out abandoned houses, so he was an authority. He reiterated the lie that nothing in the house was worth more than $300.
The "expert" then moved on the the most amusing part of this case, the "gang party house." In his experience, you see, grafitti out front of a house is a sign that lets the gangstahs know where they can party. "They break the windows," he explained, "and they spray grafitti all over the interior. Also, there were beer cans in the back yard."
My hand shot up. "Those beer cans were mine, your honor!" The judge chuckled.
The judge asked, "Were there broken windows?"
"No."
"Was there grafitti inside the house?"
"No. But there was peeling paint hanging off the ceiling, cracks in the wall, and the front window was cracked."
The front window was cracked when I moved in. A large Brazilian Pepper tree was rooted right next to the front wall. Over time, the roots had knocked the cinder block foundation well out of true, causing ever-widening cracks in the interior wall, and snapping the front window.
A chronic roof leak, which had been repaired several times with no success, caused the paint in the living room to bulge out like a blister during rain storms. The latex paint finally failed, and the draining water nearly filled a five gallon bucket with dark, tea colored nasty water, leaving the broken paint hanging down like skin peeling from a sunburn.
The house was in a deteriorated state, but none of it was my fault. The landlord simply could not afford to repair all the things that were slowly decomposing. Rowling and his witness tried to spin it to make it sound like I'd deliberately failed to keep the house up.
Then Rowling rhetorically asked the air, "How do I even know she had the right to occupy the property?"
I facepalmed at that!
That wrapped up the defense. They looked pretty smug, but I'd been taking a few notes.
I asked the "expert" how he determined the value of my belongings. Was he an appraiser?
No, he was not.
"So, you're not really qualified to gauge the value of items like antique tables, fishing tackle, furniture?" Well, not really. Then I launched the harpoon I'd noticed among Rowling's photographs; in a picture of the (mostly) empty basement was a shot of my 1940s art deco table.
"Your honor, if you would look at the picture of the basement, you will see a table. This is an art deco table. The style is very popular right now, if you can even find one. An identical table was used on the set of 'Third Rock From the Sun' in the aliens' kitchen. I'd like to direct your attention to my set of evidence. There, you will see an identical table which I found online for $280. Therefore, the defendant's assertion that none of my belongings were worth more than $300 is false, because it suggests that, outside of this table, everything else he took from my house was worth $20." I think the judge got the idea.
I asked Rowling if he'd made any attempt to contact me before removing my possessions. He admitted he had not. His excuse was, he had no idea where I was. However, official notices are often put on the front door, something that evidently never occurred to him. He repeated that he thought the house was abandoned because I'd had the electricity turned off. You don't need power to move out of a house you're no longer living in.
I said, "Maybe this argument works in the low income neighborhoods you seem to operate in. Maybe it works on poorly educated Latino families, but that dog don't hunt around me."
I suspect that this guy and his cronies have been getting away with this for years.
I ended my argument, and the judge said he would issue a ruling within two weeks. After a month had passed, I called the court house. I was told that the ruling had been mailed out. I never received it, so I rode up to Clairemont Mesa to acquire a copy of the judgment.
The good news was, I won! The ungood news was, I was only awarded $700, less than half of what I was asking. I noticed on the form that I would not be able to initiate collection for 30 days, the length of time allowed for the defendant to appeal to a higher court.
A little while later, there was a phone message on my machine, one Larry Wagner, calling on behalf of Capital Commercial Investments. He said he had received the judgment, and that I had sued the wrong entity. He claimed that Bill Rowling had nothing to do with CCI, and suggested I refile against the proper target.
A friend who is a private investigator did some digging for me and sent me links to a number of California State documents relating to CCI. On a page from the State of California Department of Real Estate was a list of officers for CCI, inc. One of them is Bill Rowling, whose term expires in 2010. Larry Wagner is variously listed as a sales rep, and president of CCI. It was a "gotcha!" moment!
The following week, I fielded a call from Wagner. He repeated his claim that Bill Rowling was not associated with CCI.
"Well, that's interesting, because I have some documents right here that list him as an officer for a company called Capital Commercial Investments that has the same physical address as your Capital Commercial Investments. And you are listed as a sales rep. Now, why am I talking to a sales rep?"
He went ballistic over the phone, and yelled that I would not get one effin dime out of them. I hung up on him.
Now remember, the judgment was issued in late May, and the defendants have 30 days to file an appeal.
In August of this year, I received a notice of appeal from San Diego Superior Court, stating that the defendant had appealed and a hearing would be held in October. Two weeks later I received a notice that the hearing had been pushed back to November 9.
I related the whole sorry tale to people on an IRC channel I frequent. One of them, Henri, is pre-law. This guy has a mind made for the law! Legal documents don't put him to sleep, and he avidly follows the legal drama stirred up by the cult of Scientology, reducing long, tedious documents to something the rest of us can comprehend without going into a coma.
Superior Court runs by a different set of rules than Small Claims Court. And it was in these rules Henri found what could possibly be the legal downfall of Bill Rowling and Capital Commercial Investments.
In California law, an individual may represent a corporation in Small Claims. But, in Superior Court, a corporation may only be represented by
1. An employee
2. An officer of the corporation
3. An attorney
I had hopes that these fucktards were ignorant of the law. This was one of my secret weapons.
The other was the argument that, because the appeal had been filed two months late, the case would not be under the Superior Court's jurisdiction.
The hearing was held this past Monday. I arrived at the County Courthouse downtown as directed by the notice sent to me. Bill Rowling drove up to the Small Claims courthouse on Clairemont Mesa. That answered one question; he had no idea that Superior Court was downtown. He phoned that he would be late. When he finally arrived, he was alone, without his witness.
I suspect that their defense tactic was going to be denial of Rowling's association with CCI, that I had sued the wrong entity and the earlier judgement should be vacated.
The judge entered the courtroom. Documents were read. And then, she began questioning Rowling about his relationship with CCI. I listened with a growing sense of evil glee as he denied being an employee of CCI. He denied being an officer of CCI. He claimed he was just a real estate broker who was "helping out" by doing a little work for them.
Remember, I had documents proving him to be an officer of the corporation, but I sensed where this was going and was under no legal obligation to interrupt him while he lied to the court.
When she was done questioning Rowling, the judge harpooned him with my own weapon. If Rowling was not an officer, employee or attorney, he had no standing and was unqualified to represent CCI in Superior Court. Therefore, she issued a default judgment in my favor, for the amount of $1800.00.
Rowling sputtered, "But your honor, it was only $700.00!"
She explained that a default judgement meant that my original complaint would be the guideline for the court's decision. And that meant my original demand for $1800.00 would be upheld.
"Your honor, can I appeal this?" Rowling bawwed.
Nope. You can't appeal it. In fact, if you'd read the damned papers the court sent you, you would have known that your appeal went up the ladder to Superior Court; you would have known that you had 30 days to appeal, that the courthouse was downtown, and that after an appeal in Superior Court, you get no further appeals. But you didn't read the paperwork you were given, did you?
The ironic thing about all this is how Rowling's lies came back to bite him. Had he admitted to being an officer of CCI, the case would have been heard. But no, these two stellar strategists made the same mistake as so many other liars have made; they assumed they were smarter than the opposition.
So, c'mon, CCI. Pay what you owe! If you don't, the interest on the amount will be compounded monthly. Had you read up you'd know this. But you guys don't read much, do you?
I have several options to collect this debt, once I get the final papers from the court. I now must decide which option will be the most annoying for them, and the most entertaining for me.
You should have paid me the $700.00 in the Small Claims judgment. You should have read your paperwork. You should have told the truth. But you didn't. You had to get cute with the court system. Your lies lost you this case.
Honesty is the best policy, boys. Learn it. Live it. Be it.
With these words, a judge ended a year long frustrating and annoying battle between me and a couple of real estate hucksters of dubious ethics and slimy business practices.
It started in January of 2008. I was living in a 900 square foot house behind an identical 2 bedroom in the front. I'd lived there since 2000, and through three landlords.
The last owner was a victim of the misleading lending boom of 2007. He barely spoke English, and worked at a pizza joint. Somehow he was persuaded that he could afford to purchase a $555,000 property on a pizza man's salary.
In January 2008, I came home to find a notice on my front door. It was to inform me that the property would be auctioned off on January 31st.
This was a new experience for me, so I called Legal Aid. Basically, they told me three things. If the property was purchased by a bank, I would receive a 30 day notice. If purchased by an investor, I'd be told where to send the rent check. And finally, a bank would likely offer some compensation to help me move.
If a property is foreclosed, the renter does not get their deposit back.This can result in financial hardship for the renter, which is why the bank may offer financial assistance.
January passed, and February and March with no word. I started looking for a new place in March, and found a suitable place in April.
Since I hadn't heard anything from a bank, realtor, or new owner I decided to take my time moving. After all, I'd accumulated a lot of stuff in the past eight years, most of which was in my basement. The basement served as a storage space for things you might keep in a garage if you had one. I didn't have one.
By May, the house was fairly empty, save for a few items that were too large to move without a truck. I'd need a truck to move the things in the basement as well. I was living at the new place, and nibbling away at the smaller items still living on Dodson.
I'd arranged for a truck one Saturday in May; a truck that never showed up. That following week, I rode by to pick up a few more items. Imagine my surprise to see the doors of the house wide open, and some guy mowing weeds in the front. The house was empty, all my possessions gone!
"What's going on here?" I asked.
"You tell me," he replied. When I pressed him, he told me a realtor, Bill Rowling, had had my possessions disposed of. Fishing tackle, a parrot stand, an art deco kitchen table, computer and motorcycle accessories, a bicycle, dozens of gardening tools, and worst off all, a box of karate trophies won in the 1970s. Worthless, but sentimentally valuable and irreplaceable.
Of course, I immediately called Rowling, who played the fool and tried to assert that I'd abandoned my possessions and the property. His logic was based on the fact that I'd had the electricity shut off. Well,duh, I didn't want to pay two electric bills!
However, I'd not received any contact from the purchaser of the property, and so was taking it easy, visiting the property a few times a week to remove belongings. Sometimes I'd press gang a friend with a van to help me. Other times I would just fill my motorcycle panniers with smaller possessions.
Despite the rational argument that my presence obviously demonstrated that I had not abandoned the property, Rowling persisted in his assertion that I'd left over $1800 worth of possessions and walked away.
Rowling coyly refused to tell me the name of the bank back east that actually owned the property. At one point, he mentioned compensation in the amount of $700. He claimed that he had no way of notifying me before emptying the house. A notice stuck to the front door would have handled that problem nicely, but he never made the attempt.
The Latino family in the front house had moved out, but the last time I'd been by, their basement still had possessions in it. That basement was also empty.
This neighborhood was primarily Latino, and small, older houses. I believe that Mr. Rowling was a very busy fellow indeed, as foreclosures spread throughout the low income regions of San Diego.
It is quite likely that Rowling is accustomed to doing as he likes without challenge. After several months of jerking me around, imagine his surprise when he was served papers to appear in Small Claims Court. I'd waited to launch this case until the last minute. Let him sit back, all fat and complacent, thinking he'd gotten away with something.
On the phone, he'd come across as smug and unpleasant. In court, in person, it turned out he was a liar as well. That is called 'perjury' when you lie to a judge.
Preparatory to this case, I went online to find prices on the items I could remember losing. The table was sheer luck. It was an art deco style from the 1940s. I found it online, for $280.00!
The parrot stand had an oak base, and cost $250.00. Some of the fishing lures sell for $5.00 each. The gardening tools; rakes, shovels, hoes etc. added up as well. My final tally, $1800.00. That is the amount I asked for in Small Claims court.
Small Claims court is located up on Clairemont Mesa, where Traffic Court is also held. Mr. Rowling was late, as he'd been sitting in the wrong courtroom for ten minutes. He finally came in with a co-worker in tow. This was Rowlings "expert witness," an authority on clearing out peoples' possessions from rental properties.
Rowling refused the offer of arbitration, a method used to help clear the court dockets. Nope, he wanted a judge. He didn't get one, we came before an attorney who was acting as a judge for this case.
In small claims court, the plaintiff and defendant exchange evidence. Rowling had a series of misleading photos, taken of the interior of the house after it had been emptied, and photos of a partially empty basement. These photos did not represent tthe house as I'd left it three days prior to his company's removal of my possessions.
As plaintiff, I went first. I laid out my case before the judge in a clear, concise manner. Then it was Rowling's turn to take the stand. It was a Festival of lies from the very beginning of his testimony.
He again claimed that I had abandoned the property. Of course, he couldn't explain why I'd stopped by, but didn't let logic stop him. He went on to claim that I'd left the house unlocked. Untrue.
He claimed that I'd trashed the place before I left. Also untrue.
He claimed that the sum total value of the items he'd removed was under $300.
Then his witness took the stand. He introduced himself as having years of experience clearing out abandoned houses, so he was an authority. He reiterated the lie that nothing in the house was worth more than $300.
The "expert" then moved on the the most amusing part of this case, the "gang party house." In his experience, you see, grafitti out front of a house is a sign that lets the gangstahs know where they can party. "They break the windows," he explained, "and they spray grafitti all over the interior. Also, there were beer cans in the back yard."
My hand shot up. "Those beer cans were mine, your honor!" The judge chuckled.
The judge asked, "Were there broken windows?"
"No."
"Was there grafitti inside the house?"
"No. But there was peeling paint hanging off the ceiling, cracks in the wall, and the front window was cracked."
The front window was cracked when I moved in. A large Brazilian Pepper tree was rooted right next to the front wall. Over time, the roots had knocked the cinder block foundation well out of true, causing ever-widening cracks in the interior wall, and snapping the front window.
A chronic roof leak, which had been repaired several times with no success, caused the paint in the living room to bulge out like a blister during rain storms. The latex paint finally failed, and the draining water nearly filled a five gallon bucket with dark, tea colored nasty water, leaving the broken paint hanging down like skin peeling from a sunburn.
The house was in a deteriorated state, but none of it was my fault. The landlord simply could not afford to repair all the things that were slowly decomposing. Rowling and his witness tried to spin it to make it sound like I'd deliberately failed to keep the house up.
Then Rowling rhetorically asked the air, "How do I even know she had the right to occupy the property?"
I facepalmed at that!
That wrapped up the defense. They looked pretty smug, but I'd been taking a few notes.
I asked the "expert" how he determined the value of my belongings. Was he an appraiser?
No, he was not.
"So, you're not really qualified to gauge the value of items like antique tables, fishing tackle, furniture?" Well, not really. Then I launched the harpoon I'd noticed among Rowling's photographs; in a picture of the (mostly) empty basement was a shot of my 1940s art deco table.
"Your honor, if you would look at the picture of the basement, you will see a table. This is an art deco table. The style is very popular right now, if you can even find one. An identical table was used on the set of 'Third Rock From the Sun' in the aliens' kitchen. I'd like to direct your attention to my set of evidence. There, you will see an identical table which I found online for $280. Therefore, the defendant's assertion that none of my belongings were worth more than $300 is false, because it suggests that, outside of this table, everything else he took from my house was worth $20." I think the judge got the idea.
I asked Rowling if he'd made any attempt to contact me before removing my possessions. He admitted he had not. His excuse was, he had no idea where I was. However, official notices are often put on the front door, something that evidently never occurred to him. He repeated that he thought the house was abandoned because I'd had the electricity turned off. You don't need power to move out of a house you're no longer living in.
I said, "Maybe this argument works in the low income neighborhoods you seem to operate in. Maybe it works on poorly educated Latino families, but that dog don't hunt around me."
I suspect that this guy and his cronies have been getting away with this for years.
I ended my argument, and the judge said he would issue a ruling within two weeks. After a month had passed, I called the court house. I was told that the ruling had been mailed out. I never received it, so I rode up to Clairemont Mesa to acquire a copy of the judgment.
The good news was, I won! The ungood news was, I was only awarded $700, less than half of what I was asking. I noticed on the form that I would not be able to initiate collection for 30 days, the length of time allowed for the defendant to appeal to a higher court.
A little while later, there was a phone message on my machine, one Larry Wagner, calling on behalf of Capital Commercial Investments. He said he had received the judgment, and that I had sued the wrong entity. He claimed that Bill Rowling had nothing to do with CCI, and suggested I refile against the proper target.
A friend who is a private investigator did some digging for me and sent me links to a number of California State documents relating to CCI. On a page from the State of California Department of Real Estate was a list of officers for CCI, inc. One of them is Bill Rowling, whose term expires in 2010. Larry Wagner is variously listed as a sales rep, and president of CCI. It was a "gotcha!" moment!
The following week, I fielded a call from Wagner. He repeated his claim that Bill Rowling was not associated with CCI.
"Well, that's interesting, because I have some documents right here that list him as an officer for a company called Capital Commercial Investments that has the same physical address as your Capital Commercial Investments. And you are listed as a sales rep. Now, why am I talking to a sales rep?"
He went ballistic over the phone, and yelled that I would not get one effin dime out of them. I hung up on him.
Now remember, the judgment was issued in late May, and the defendants have 30 days to file an appeal.
In August of this year, I received a notice of appeal from San Diego Superior Court, stating that the defendant had appealed and a hearing would be held in October. Two weeks later I received a notice that the hearing had been pushed back to November 9.
I related the whole sorry tale to people on an IRC channel I frequent. One of them, Henri, is pre-law. This guy has a mind made for the law! Legal documents don't put him to sleep, and he avidly follows the legal drama stirred up by the cult of Scientology, reducing long, tedious documents to something the rest of us can comprehend without going into a coma.
Superior Court runs by a different set of rules than Small Claims Court. And it was in these rules Henri found what could possibly be the legal downfall of Bill Rowling and Capital Commercial Investments.
In California law, an individual may represent a corporation in Small Claims. But, in Superior Court, a corporation may only be represented by
1. An employee
2. An officer of the corporation
3. An attorney
I had hopes that these fucktards were ignorant of the law. This was one of my secret weapons.
The other was the argument that, because the appeal had been filed two months late, the case would not be under the Superior Court's jurisdiction.
The hearing was held this past Monday. I arrived at the County Courthouse downtown as directed by the notice sent to me. Bill Rowling drove up to the Small Claims courthouse on Clairemont Mesa. That answered one question; he had no idea that Superior Court was downtown. He phoned that he would be late. When he finally arrived, he was alone, without his witness.
I suspect that their defense tactic was going to be denial of Rowling's association with CCI, that I had sued the wrong entity and the earlier judgement should be vacated.
The judge entered the courtroom. Documents were read. And then, she began questioning Rowling about his relationship with CCI. I listened with a growing sense of evil glee as he denied being an employee of CCI. He denied being an officer of CCI. He claimed he was just a real estate broker who was "helping out" by doing a little work for them.
Remember, I had documents proving him to be an officer of the corporation, but I sensed where this was going and was under no legal obligation to interrupt him while he lied to the court.
When she was done questioning Rowling, the judge harpooned him with my own weapon. If Rowling was not an officer, employee or attorney, he had no standing and was unqualified to represent CCI in Superior Court. Therefore, she issued a default judgment in my favor, for the amount of $1800.00.
Rowling sputtered, "But your honor, it was only $700.00!"
She explained that a default judgement meant that my original complaint would be the guideline for the court's decision. And that meant my original demand for $1800.00 would be upheld.
"Your honor, can I appeal this?" Rowling bawwed.
Nope. You can't appeal it. In fact, if you'd read the damned papers the court sent you, you would have known that your appeal went up the ladder to Superior Court; you would have known that you had 30 days to appeal, that the courthouse was downtown, and that after an appeal in Superior Court, you get no further appeals. But you didn't read the paperwork you were given, did you?
The ironic thing about all this is how Rowling's lies came back to bite him. Had he admitted to being an officer of CCI, the case would have been heard. But no, these two stellar strategists made the same mistake as so many other liars have made; they assumed they were smarter than the opposition.
So, c'mon, CCI. Pay what you owe! If you don't, the interest on the amount will be compounded monthly. Had you read up you'd know this. But you guys don't read much, do you?
I have several options to collect this debt, once I get the final papers from the court. I now must decide which option will be the most annoying for them, and the most entertaining for me.
You should have paid me the $700.00 in the Small Claims judgment. You should have read your paperwork. You should have told the truth. But you didn't. You had to get cute with the court system. Your lies lost you this case.
Honesty is the best policy, boys. Learn it. Live it. Be it.
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