Landlord Mark Scharfman was reportedly planning to tear down the single-story structure on West 43rd Street and replace it with a multi-story residential building.

Now, adding insult to injury, I come to find out, via the blog Lost City, that Mr. Scharfman has installed a new tenant in Le Madeleine's place -- specifically, another French bistro called Le Petit Un Deux Trois. Incroyable!

When The Observer passed by Mr. Edwards's embattled Le Madeleine bistro on West 43rd Street last week, the joint was packed.

This week? Tumbleweeds. Another French bistro bites the dust. This reporter feels bad for both Mr. Edwards and his beloved ficus tree.

Evicted after a three-year court battle with landlord Mark Scharfman, Mr. Edwards has vowed to carry on: "We have located a possible place to move everyone and open up again within a very short time."

But if that doesn’t work out, the stick-to-it-ive Texas-born owner of the longstanding French-style bistro on West 43rd Street might have to settle for Plan B.

Despite collecting more than 12,000 signatures in support of Le Madeleine staying put—including those of such prominent politicians as City Council Speaker Christine Quinn and Congressman Jerrold Nadler—the formerly relocation-reluctant Mr. Edwards is now actively seeking a fallback address.

“I am looking for other locations,” he recently informed Counter Espionage.

The change typifies a significant shift in strategy for the self-described poster child of all the bad stuff that’s happening to old-line neighborhood restaurants across Manhattan. Mr. Edwards also recently replaced his local petition-drive-specialist public-relations team with a national crisis-communications manager.

“We’ve stopped actually doing any petitions, except online, because all of the elected officials are on our side and are very supportive, as is the neighborhood,” Mr. Edwards said.

Now if only he could sway a judge or two.

Sporting a navy blazer with a silk handkerchief, a striped button-up shirt and a black turtleneck, Mr. Edwards mingled merrily, per custom, among family, friends and guests at the restaurant on Monday night, in spite of the possible doom facing his annual $3.2 million food-and-beverage operation.

Any day now, he expects to find out whether the State Court of Appeals will agree to hear his last-ditch plea against landlord Mark Scharfman, who’s been trying to terminate Le Madeleine’s lease since July 2005.

If Mr. Edwards’ appeal is granted, the continuing proceedings would prolong the restaurant’s current streak of staying in business a full 12 months (and counting) past its originally scheduled cutoff date.

If his request gets rejected, however, the court-ordered stay of eviction that’s kept Mr. Edwards’ award-winning wine selection flowing throughout the long legal tussle would expire in short order.

And then, barring any unforeseen breakthrough in landlord-tenant negotiations, the bulldozers would come. And, shortly thereafter, the condos (of course).

According to Mr. Edwards’ own lawyers, the odds of further forestalling the single-story, lime-painted brick building’s intended destruction on appeal are not exactly favorable, to say the least. “I’ve been given a 2 to 3 percent chance of getting an appeal,” Mr. Edwards said, adding: “Hopefully, there are other legal avenues we can take.”

Even the restaurant’s resident guitarist, Gene Bertoncini, whose classical strumming has provided the soundtrack for a multitude of nighttime meals at Le Madeleine over the past 15 years, seemed resigned to blisterless Sunday and Monday nights off in the very near future.

Mr. Bertoncini offered a simple two-word explanation for his bleak outlook on the business’ future: “Demolition clause.”

The building’s owner, Mr. Scharfman, and his attorney, Steven D. Sidrane, have long maintained that Mr. Scharfman was fully entitled to evict the eatery “[a]t any time that Landlord intends to demolish or to substantially remodel or rehabilitate the Building,” citing a specific section in the lease that states, well, exactly that.

Mr. Edwards, however, has challenged that seemingly straightforward provision, based on a couple of arguments.

As Counter Espionage previously reported, one point of contention remains the restaurant’s labyrinthine basement, which is actually located under the protected old-law tenement building next-door to the restaurant. Mr. Edwards’ attorneys have argued that, since Le Madeleine’s lease includes both addresses and refers to them singularly as “the Building,” the landlord would need to treat both properties equally in order to invoke the right to raze.

The eatery’s legal team has further alleged that Mr. Scharfman’s plan to erect a new multi-story residential building in Le Madeleine’s place—right up against the historic structure next-door—would likely diminish light and emergency exits for existing tenants, in apparent violation of the city’s building code. (A number of politicos, including Ms. Quinn and Mr. Nadler, have urged the Buildings Department in writing to make sure that Mr. Scharfman’s plans receive an appropriate level of scrutiny.)

To lend extra credibility to these complaints—and perhaps come off less like the usual angry tenant—Mr. Edwards hired a renowned landlord lawyer, Jeffrey R. Metz, senior partner in the largely property-owner-centric law firm Borah, Goldstein, Altschuler, Schwartz & Nahins, to argue his case.

Yet all the legalese, crafty strategy and politicking have been for naught.

So far, no judge can seem to look past that whole landlord’s-right-to-demolish section in the lease.

Last July, Manhattan Supreme Court Judge Faviola Soto ruled simply that “the landlord has exercised its rights.” More recently, on Jan. 11, a panel of five Appellate Division justices unanimously agreed that Mr. Scharfman “possessed the absolute right to terminate the [restaurant’s] lease.”

The overwhelming landlord-leaning sentiment behind the bench thus far has made Mr. Edwards’ final appeal look like quite a long shot.

“When the appellate court is unanimous in agreeing with the lower court, the appeals court generally isn’t gonna take it,” he said.

If nothing else, Mr. Edwards’ recent misadventures in litigation at least seemed to provide an important civics lesson.

“Politicians can’t influence the court, evidently,” he noted. “Even if Christine Quinn and [State Senator] Tom Duane want to get something done through the courts, it’s not their court. It’s the court set up by [former Governor George] Pataki 10 years ago, when he appointed everybody.”

Mr. Edwards was referring to the tall ficus tree he had planted as a sapling nearly a quarter-century ago, in the garden-seating section of his then-fledgling French bistro on 43rd Street near Ninth Avenue.

But he might as well have been speaking about the restaurant itself, which, alongside its flora, remains entrenched in its longstanding location, despite the landlord’s yearlong efforts to uproot it for a multi-story residential building (probably condos). The lime-painted brick storefront stands just a single story above ground.

Mr. Edwards credits the endurance of both his ficus and his restaurant in large part to the goings-on underground.

“The reason the garden is such a healthy, happy garden,” he explained, “is that it used to be a latrine.”

Enriched by the outhouses of the ancient residents of the adjacent, 19th-century tenement building on the corner—which Mr. Edwards’ eatery now abuts—this fertile ground set the foundation for a lush, sky-lit patio where theater-district diners now feast on duck confit to the tune of $3 million in annual revenues.

But the restaurant’s subterranean connection to the historic housing next-door doesn’t stop at mere manure—a point Mr. Edwards and his lawyer make abundantly clear in court papers. In fact, the primary argument in the restaurant’s legal case to stay in business largely hinges on another under-the-surface issue.

“This is where the kitchen crew changes clothes,” said Mr. Edwards, leading Counter Espionage on a tour of the eatery’s labyrinthine basement last week. “This is the linen storage,” he continued. “Around the corner here, we’ve got the boiler room for our hot water for our dishwashing. There’s also a carpet there that’s used by our Muslim brothers to do their praying.”

Deeper still in the bowels of the restaurant, Mr. Edwards unlocked a door marked “Cave,” revealing a tightly packed wine cellar, before moving on to a large food-storage area and a cramped office space he called “the brains” of the operation.

The significance of this vast underground space, at least for Mr. Edwards’ purposes, is its specific location: below the historic building next-door.

The restaurant’s current lease, signed in 1997, encompasses three addresses: the single-story “store and garden,” commonly known as Le Madeleine, at 403-405 West 43rd Street; plus the basement space in the protected 607 Ninth Avenue tenement next-door; as well as a portion of the basement and ground floor at the adjoining 609 Ninth Avenue.

“The dishwasher room, the drying room, the coat-check area, the access to the basement, the changing area, the dry storage, the prep area, the office, the wine cellar—all of that is in the other two buildings,” Mr. Edwards said.

Yet when landlord Mark Scharfman moved to evict Le Madeleine in July 2005—citing a provision in the lease granting him “the absolute right, option and privilege to terminate this lease” at “any time that the landlord intends to demolish or to substantially remodel or rehabilitate the Building”—the paperwork only addressed the one-story storefront. It neglected to mention Mr. Edwards’ additional basement areas in the protected buildings next-door.

The restaurateur’s attorney, Arlene Boop, is now challenging the legality of Mr. Scharfman’s action based on this sort of cellar loophole.

“Even in laymen’s language, it’s probably more complicated than that,” said Ms. Boop, who tried to explain her legalese more plainly: “Think of a mansion with a one-story extension—it’s all ‘the building.’ The lease defines ‘the building’ as all the addresses of the property, and it’s a big, capital B for ‘building.’”

Based on Ms. Boop’s interpretation, the lease’s demolition clause would apply only to construction on “the entire building,” basement and all, according to court papers.

“You can’t just demolish a piece of it,” she argued. “You’re treating it as if he only has a lease for the one-story. What about all this other stuff?”

Mr. Scharfman didn’t return calls for comment. His attorney, Steven Sidrane, however, disputed Ms. Boop’s basement-based argument as meritless. In Mr. Scharfman’s view, he said, the issue is much simpler: “They’re challenging the landlord’s right to terminate the lease. But there’s a clear right to terminate the lease in the lease.”

At least one judge already agreed with the landlord’s keep-it-simple reasoning. This past July, Manhattan Supreme Court Judge Faviola Soto rejected Le Madeleine’s legal nitpicking, ruling simply that “the landlord has exercised its rights pursuant to … the lease.”

Mr. Edwards has since appealed that decision in the hopes that five judges will lend a more sympathetic ear to “what the first judge didn’t listen to.” The two sides return to court on Dec. 15.

Meanwhile, Le Madeleine continues to cling to its subterranean lifeline, courtesy of a court-ordered stay of eviction, nearly 10 months after its originally scheduled termination.

Even Mr. Scharfman’s dangling of a possible alternative storefront on nearby Ninth Avenue has failed to sway Mr. Edwards’ intense desire to stay put.

“You wouldn’t be able to move this restaurant to another location; this is a very unique spot in Manhattan,” explained Mr. Edwards, who’d gladly take a rent hike over relocation. “I would be happy to open another restaurant at some point; I’d be delighted to. But it would not be Le Madeleine. And it wouldn’t be this space. You don’t often find a single-story building with an open garden.”

Particularly one this fertile.

Mr. Edwards was referring to the tall ficus tree he had planted as a sapling nearly a quarter-century ago, in the garden-seating section of his then-fledgling French bistro on 43rd Street near Ninth Avenue.

But he might as well have been speaking about the restaurant itself, which, alongside its flora, remains entrenched in its longstanding location, despite the landlord’s yearlong efforts to uproot it for a multi-story residential building (probably condos). The lime-painted brick storefront stands just a single story above ground.

Mr. Edwards credits the endurance of both his ficus and his restaurant in large part to the goings-on underground.

“The reason the garden is such a healthy, happy garden,” he explained, “is that it used to be a latrine.”

Enriched by the outhouses of the ancient residents of the adjacent, 19th-century tenement building on the corner—which Mr. Edwards’ eatery now abuts—this fertile ground set the foundation for a lush, sky-lit patio where theater-district diners now feast on duck confit to the tune of $3 million in annual revenues.

But the restaurant’s subterranean connection to the historic housing next-door doesn’t stop at mere manure—a point Mr. Edwards and his lawyer make abundantly clear in court papers. In fact, the primary argument in the restaurant’s legal case to stay in business largely hinges on another under-the-surface issue.

“This is where the kitchen crew changes clothes,” said Mr. Edwards, leading Counter Espionage on a tour of the eatery’s labyrinthine basement last week. “This is the linen storage,” he continued. “Around the corner here, we’ve got the boiler room for our hot water for our dishwashing. There’s also a carpet there that’s used by our Muslim brothers to do their praying.”

Deeper still in the bowels of the restaurant, Mr. Edwards unlocked a door marked “Cave,” revealing a tightly packed wine cellar, before moving on to a large food-storage area and a cramped office space he called “the brains” of the operation.

The significance of this vast underground space, at least for Mr. Edwards’ purposes, is its specific location: below the historic building next-door.

The restaurant’s current lease, signed in 1997, encompasses three addresses: the single-story “store and garden,” commonly known as Le Madeleine, at 403-405 West 43rd Street; plus the basement space in the protected 607 Ninth Avenue tenement next-door; as well as a portion of the basement and ground floor at the adjoining 609 Ninth Avenue.

“The dishwasher room, the drying room, the coat-check area, the access to the basement, the changing area, the dry storage, the prep area, the office, the wine cellar—all of that is in the other two buildings,” Mr. Edwards said.

Yet when landlord Mark Scharfman moved to evict Le Madeleine in July 2005—citing a provision in the lease granting him “the absolute right, option and privilege to terminate this lease” at “any time that the landlord intends to demolish or to substantially remodel or rehabilitate the Building”—the paperwork only addressed the one-story storefront. It neglected to mention Mr. Edwards’ additional basement areas in the protected buildings next-door.

The restaurateur’s attorney, Arlene Boop, is now challenging the legality of Mr. Scharfman’s action based on this sort of cellar loophole.

“Even in laymen’s language, it’s probably more complicated than that,” said Ms. Boop, who tried to explain her legalese more plainly: “Think of a mansion with a one-story extension—it’s all ‘the building.’ The lease defines ‘the building’ as all the addresses of the property, and it’s a big, capital B for ‘building.’”

Based on Ms. Boop’s interpretation, the lease’s demolition clause would apply only to construction on “the entire building,” basement and all, according to court papers.

“You can’t just demolish a piece of it,” she argued. “You’re treating it as if he only has a lease for the one-story. What about all this other stuff?”

Mr. Scharfman didn’t return calls for comment. His attorney, Steven Sidrane, however, disputed Ms. Boop’s basement-based argument as meritless. In Mr. Scharfman’s view, he said, the issue is much simpler: “They’re challenging the landlord’s right to terminate the lease. But there’s a clear right to terminate the lease in the lease.”

At least one judge already agreed with the landlord’s keep-it-simple reasoning. This past July, Manhattan Supreme Court Judge Faviola Soto rejected Le Madeleine’s legal nitpicking, ruling simply that “the landlord has exercised its rights pursuant to … the lease.”

Mr. Edwards has since appealed that decision in the hopes that five judges will lend a more sympathetic ear to “what the first judge didn’t listen to.” The two sides return to court on Dec. 15.

Meanwhile, Le Madeleine continues to cling to its subterranean lifeline, courtesy of a court-ordered stay of eviction, nearly 10 months after its originally scheduled termination.

Even Mr. Scharfman’s dangling of a possible alternative storefront on nearby Ninth Avenue has failed to sway Mr. Edwards’ intense desire to stay put.

“You wouldn’t be able to move this restaurant to another location; this is a very unique spot in Manhattan,” explained Mr. Edwards, who’d gladly take a rent hike over relocation. “I would be happy to open another restaurant at some point; I’d be delighted to. But it would not be Le Madeleine. And it wouldn’t be this space. You don’t often find a single-story building with an open garden.”

Particularly one this fertile.