The Philadelphia Inquirer from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania • Page B01

SECTION SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 2007 Wk iPfnlaMpfna ilnquirer WWW.PHILLY.COM Philadelphia the Region 50 years later, still no leads ance of Judge Joseph Force Crater. In Los Angeles, it is the the slaying of Elizabeth Short in 1947, known as the Black Dahlia murder case. And in Philadelphia, it is the discovery of the "Boy in the Box" on Feb. 25, 1957. The file for case No.

H-57-22 fills eight boxes at police headquarters. The material includes photographs, the autopsy report (cause of death: beating), an invoice for the boy's original coffin a See UNSOLVED on B8 The "Boy in the Box" case remains Philadelphia's great enduring mystery. By Joseph A. Gambardello INQUIRER STAFF WRITER In July 1957, Patrick Gibson's father a Reading Railroad engineer had just died in a train crash, but the 11-year-old boy found it within himself to send his allowance to the Philadelphia Police De partment. The money was for the funeral for an unknown boy whose nude and undernourished body had been found wrapped in a blanket in a box dumped in a field in the city's Fox Chase section.

"I would like to help make this little boy's burial as nice as my Daddy's," young Patrick wrote from his home in Lancaster. Each city has its unsolved crime that echoes through the years. In New York, it is the disappear DAN LOH Associated Press The boy's remains were moved from a potter's field to Ivy Hill Cemetery in 1998. ft In this corner: Rick Olivieri, Pat's grandson Monica Yant Kinney Fumo's defense: Brilliant, flawed Knox defends payday loans His now-defunct bank made them in 1999 and 2000. He said it wasn't his best move, but he has no regrets.

By Mark Fazlollah and Marcia Gelbart INQUIRER STAFF WRITERS In 1999, all over Pennsylvania, thousands of people strapped for cash lined up at the storefront offices of a short-term loan company. They got money, fast, from a bank called Crusader, headed by a self-made millionaire named Tom Knox. The loans aver DAVID SWANSON Inquirer Staff Photographer "I just figured that Pat was the king and my father was the prince, and then when he passed on, I was the king," says Rick Olivieri, owner of Rick's Steaks at the Reading Terminal Market. A battle royal, with cheese aged $250 apiece. But the interest was so steep that community activists cried foul, and federal regulators zeroed in on the bank.

Eighteen months after it began making these so-called payday loans, Crusader, under pressure from regulators, agreed to stop. Tom Knox has been pumping cash into his campaign. judge has been asked to decide who may rightly claim lineage to the King of Steaks. At stake: a name and trademark, foundation of a multimillion-dollar empire built on steak sandwiches, cheesesteaks and cheese fries all Olivieri innovations. Rick Olivieri, 42, grandson of Pat and owner of Rick's Steaks at Reading Terminal Market and a seasonal satellite at Citizens Bank Park, is promoting this year as the sandwich's 75th anniversary.

But Frank Olivieri, 43, grandson of Harry but owner-operator of Pat's, says the 75th anniversary See STEAKS on B9 By Joseph A. Slobodzian INQUIRER STAFF WRITER It's generally acknowledged the Philly steak sandwich was born on a grill at Ninth and Wharton Streets attended by brothers Pasquale "Pat" and Harry Olivieri. It's South Philly lore, retold and promoted by the Olivieris in the name and motto: Pat's King of Steaks, The Old Original Still Run by the Olivieri Family. That legend may be the only thing that the third-generation Olivieris agree on. Like a culinary War of the Roses, the cousins are in federal court, where a And in this corner: Frank Olivieri, Harry's grandson In the interest of fairness, I have been asked by no less a legal legend than Richard Sprague to allow State Sen.

Vince Fumo the opportunity to tell his side of the story. I'm happy to oblige, and not just because the defense is even more entertaining than the allegations in the 267-page federal indictment that paints Fumo as a micromanaging menace who abused his Senate staff with petty personal demands and went on shopping sprees with a charity's credit card. Not that I could ever afford him, but Sprague is exactly the kind of lawyer I'd call if I happened to be facing 139 counts of fraud, conspiracy and obstruction of justice for allegedly using more than $2 million in public and charitable funding to live la vida loca. At 81, Sprague remains sharp of mind and clear in conviction. Listening to him lecture for 75 minutes last week, I almost believed he believed the conspiracy theories he was hawking.

You remember the time Hillary Clinton alleged that "a vast right-wing conspiracy" forced her husband to get down and dirty with an intern in the Oval Office as part of the GOP plot to destroy his presidency. Sprague is similarly convinced of a covert plan by the Bush White House to extinguish Fumo's flame. How else to explain why the U.S. Attorney's Office, FBI and IRS devoted four years to investigating "the most effective" legislator Philadelphia has ever seen? Huntin' for Democrats To be clear, Sprague is not saying Karl Rove and Dick Cheney spend their nights sipping scotch and fretting about Fumo though surely they would have if they knew what a beloved and "effective" leader he is. Rather, Fumo's attorney is arguing that, as a rule, Republicans in Washington view the Department of Justice as a weapon to stalk, hunt and slay prey in the other party.

"What I am saying is that they, from on high, do have a policy of using local U.S. attorneys to try to get effective Democrats," Sprague contended. Of all the effective Democrats in the nation, none is more effective than Vince Fumo. Sprague proudly recalled how Fumo personally directed $8 billion to Philadelphia in more than two decades in office. The lawyer got so excited about that figure, he forgot to mention that Fumo also talked Peco and the Delaware River Port Authority into donating a combined $27 million to his favorite charity, the soon-to-be-renamed Citizens' Alliance for (Allegedly) Buying Vince Tiki Torches, Polo Shirts, Bug Zappers, Farm Equipment, and Anything Else He Wants but Doesn't Want to Pay for Himself.

World's best boss Exhibit A of why Fumo was so effective that the feds targeted him out of sheer fear and jealousy? The fact that Fumo's taxpayer-funded staff loved him so much, it would do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, for free. Not that there's anything wrong with having government workers drive a "247 senator's" luggage to Martha's Vineyard for vacation. Presidents are afforded similar consideration, Sprague said, comparing Fumo to his tormentor with the question: Does President Bush "stop being president the minute he leaves the White House?" What the feds don't get, Sprague said, was that all the petty, personal demands fulfilled by Fumo's Senate staffers had been done as a gift to their god. "They idolize the fellow they work See SPRAGUE on B4 iNow, tne man who ran Crusader is running for mayor of Philadelphia, and his wealth has transformed the race. Knox's role in the much-criticized payday lending industry is only a brief chapter in his career "a very small part" of his earnings, as his wife, who was a Crusader director, put it.

Knox, who was a millionaire before he bought Crusader, has made his rags-to-riches life story the center of his campaign. But as polls show Knox surging into second place in the five-way Democratic field, his rivals are already hinting that they'll make an issue of "predatory lending," as candidate U.S. Rep. Bob Brady said last month, and Knox is facing questions about his past involvement in payday loans. Knox, who served briefly as a $l-a-year deputy mayor under Mayor Ed Rendell in the early 1990s, said in an interview last week that he had no regrets about having gotten into payday lending in 1999 and 2000.

But the longtime insurance executive also acknowledged that it was not one of his best business decisions and said he "did the right thing" by getting out of payday lending. Knox acknowledged that federal thrift regulators "they're like Gestapo" had pushed Crusader to stop See KNOX on B8 JOHN COSTELLO Inquirer Staff Photographer "We own the trademark, and we registered it legally," says Frank Olivieri, owner of Pat's King of Steaks in South Philly. He sued months after Rick Olivieri appeared on NBC's "Today" show. Analysis: How will the federal indictment of State Sen. Vincent J.

Fumo affect the mayoral race? B3. N.J. drunken-driving cases on hold Thousands still have their licenses pending a court ruling on a breath test. Inside Wags for a wag: Bill Cosby's dog is a Best in Show contender at Westminster. "SideShow," B2.

Reform or gimmick? Critics say N.J.'s tax plan is more of the same. B2. By Troy Graham INQUIRER STAFF WRITER For more than a year, most first-time drunken-driving offenders in New Jersey have seen their cases shelved while the state Supreme Court decides whether a new breath-testing device is reliable. The device, known as the Alcotest, is used by police in 17 of the state's 21 counties, including all of South Jersey. The Supreme Court said drunken drivers could be prosecuted based on Alcotest evidence.

But none of the defendants consequences for a year." The Alcotest device has been introduced to replace the decades-old Breathalyzer machines. New Jersey was the last state to stop using Breathalyzers. Pennsylvania certifies police to use a variety of breath-test machines, including Alcotest, but most Pennsylvania authorities test suspects' blood. In January 2006, when New Jersey's Supreme Court ordered sentencings for drunken drivers to be delayed, 11 coun-See DRUNK on B9 can be sentenced until the court makes its ruling probably not until spring. By most estimates, more than 10,000 drunken drivers are waiting to be sentenced.

Meanwhile, those defendants, whose licenses could be suspended for anywhere between three and 12 months, have been allowed to continue driving. "It sends a very bad message to people who offend," said Teresa Stevens, the state executive director for Mothers Against Drunk Driving in New Jersey. "It says this isn't serious and there are no.