According to a source with knowledge of the deal, commercial real-estate developer Howard Ronson bought the 110-foot-long space in the 111-year-old mansion, using the pseudonym Twin-828 L.L.C.

So Mr. Ronson won’t be moving far: As reported by The Observer, that limited-liability company has already spent $14.45 million on two duplexes in the mansion at 828 Fifth Avenue.

Together, his family fortress now totals five floors and 32 rooms. Tragically, other apartments (like the glass penthouse) still belong in others’ hands.

According to city records, the high-tech wizard Joel Birnbaum had owned the parlor-floor apartment. From 1984 to 1999, he was the chief scientist and director of Hewlett Packard’s research labs, where he led innovations in computing and printing.

Mr. Birnbaum will probably miss the mammoth and pristine gold ballroom—built for magnate Edward J. Berwind, whose coal powered the Navy during World War I.

The listing describes the space as “capable of seating some 80 people for a concert,” which is probably what Madonna was considering when she reportedly spent a quarter of an hour on its floor, gazing up at the 18-foot ceilings.

The listing broker, Brown Harris Stevens managing director Paula Del Nunzio, wouldn’t comment for the record on the deal.

But she was willing to describe the apartment—including its clandestine mezzanine bedrooms, built for a previous owner by the I.M. Pei Group.

“They’re totally camouflaged; you have no idea they’re there,” she said. “Just like you have no idea that behind a door, there’s a full stainless-steel kitchen, or behind another door, there’s a full onyx powder room …. You have no bloody idea!”

Indeed, mirrors hide the one-person elevator and spiral staircase that lead to those mezzanine bedrooms. Likewise, wood paneling in the rotunda hides the clothes closets.

The apartment was first listed at $9.975 million, before the price reduction to $9.495 million. It was also marketed as a bundle with the duplex below. Did the co-op close near the $9 million range? “We wanted what we wanted,” said Ms. Del Nunzio, “and we waited until we got it.”

‘It’ Couple Pays $1.26 M. at 43 Fifth

The southernmost stretch of Fifth Avenue is the kind of coolly charming but non-patrician place that arty and elegant young couples revere.

So, naturally, the Park Slope–born writer-director Noah Baumbach and his new actress/movie star wife, Jennifer Jason Leigh, are expanding their current domain at 43 Fifth Avenue: According to city records, the couple paid $1.26 million for their next-door neighbor’s co-op.

The sellers are artistic types, too: Joseph Montebello, the former creative director of HarperCollins, had lived in the 102-year-old co-op since 1964, and fashion designer Roland Leal moved in back in 1974.

Through the epochs, their bedroom went from chocolate brown (“It was the 60’s!”) to Chinese lacquer red (“That was the 70’s, yeah”) to a statelier white.

The entire apartment was part of a bigger one, long ago broken into three parts. “My dining room was actually a maid’s room, and what became the kitchen was a maid’s powder room,” Mr. Montebello said. Elsewhere, it was mostly books—75 cartons’ worth, apparently.

He confirmed that his buyers (lucky for them) could combine their new and old apartments. Will they keep future progeny there, or maybe a maid like in the olden days?

Surely an auteur like Mr. Baumbach deserves space to stretch: His Philip Roth–caliber film, The Squid and the Whale, was nominated for an Oscar last year. Ms. Leigh stars in the follow-up, Margot at the Wedding, with Jack Black and Nicole Kidman.

The couple approached their older neighbors about the purchase. “I’d been thinking about it for a while, because I don’t spend much time there anymore,” Mr. Montebello said from his New England home. “It just seemed like the right thing to do.”

According to the Web site PropertyShark, Holly Hunter paid $4.1 million for an apartment at the 11th Street building in 2005, and Julia Roberts used to live there, too. “People don’t fuss over them,” the seller said. “You don’t ask for autographs or anything! It’s pretty low-key.”

Columbia Kingpin Kasdin Pays $3.48 M. on Central Park West

Bespectacled Ivy League administrators don’t often get leafy uptown co-ops. But Columbia University senior executive vice president Robert Kasdin and his scholar wife have bought an eight-room apartment at 239 Central Park West. According to city records, they paid $3,485,000.

Mr. Kasdin is overseeing Columbia’s $7 billion expansion into 17 acres of Harlem, which university president Lee Bollinger described to The Observer last week as “a place of great magic, of mystique, of tremendous creativity and accomplishment.”

Nevertheless, Mr. Kasdin’s co-op is further south, at West 84th Street—the land of “gracious entertaining and bucolic views,” to borrow a phrase from the Brown Harris Stevens listing.

According to the brokerage, Mr. Kasdin’s place also has “old world luxury.” So, for example, the master bedroom and library and 396-square-foot living room all sit on the park. Sadly, only the latter has a wood-burning fireplace.

Will Mr. Kasdin wine and dine his Columbia colleagues? His new formal dining room “sets the stage for festive gatherings,” according to the listing. Kegger at Kasdin’s!

The maid’s room is another Old World perk. (According to the floor plan, it’s part of the “service suite”—which adjoins the windowed kitchen, which adjoins the pantry, which adjoins the dining room.)

The building has even plumper setups: In 2005, NBC president Jeff Zucker sold his 16-room duplex there for $15.7 million.

Mr. Kasdin’s seller is listed in city records as Thelma Marco-Bilbao, but her profession isn’t clear. Did the university pay for the bucolic splendor?

Spokesman Robert Hornsby said that no Columbia financial assistance was involved in the purchase, and that the administrator isn’t given a housing stipend.

This is not Mr. Kasdin’s first stint on Central Park: He was the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s chief investment officer from 1993 to 1997. His wife is the political scientist Claire Ullman; she received her Ph.D. from Columbia and is now an assistant professor there.

Did Redskins Owner Plunk Down $4.8 M. for East Side Townhouse?

Has Daniel Snyder, the immodest billionaire owner of the Washington Redskins, bought a modest Upper East Side townhouse?

City files list the buyer of the $4.8 million four-story house at 248 East 78th Street as Havas Holdings Inc. That’s a subsidy of the French ad firm Havas, which bought the tycoon’s firm, Snyder Communications, for a record $2 billion in 2000.

And, according to deed records with the firm First American R.E.S., the purchase was made “c/o: Daniel Snyder.”

But why would the man who personally finances Tom Cruise’s films, and who owns the wealthiest franchise in American sports (the Redskins), and who controls the silly but enormous Six Flags company, want a relatively small townhouse near Second Avenue?

To be sure, it does have a few lush assets. According to the listing with Corcoran senior vice president Jackie Vincent, there’s a 700-square-foot garden behind the 36-foot-long family room, and then a 300-square-foot slate-tiled terrace upstairs (“for enjoying meals on those warm summer evenings”).

But is that enough to lure a tycoon? Indeed, a source with knowledge of the deal was uncertain that Mr. Snyder was the townhouse buyer.

According to city records, the sellers are Dr. Hanne Meiland, an OB-GYN, and her husband Daniel, the former chairman of the executive search firm Egon Zehnder.

How did they decorate the place? “Some townhouses are very traditional and Old World–looking,” said Ms. Vincent. “The sellers’ taste has more of a contemporary feel.” (Contemporary is the new old!)

Martine Capdevielle of Mercedes/Berk represented the buyer, though she wouldn’t discuss the deal or confirm her client’s name. “You know, it’s a very—how will I say?—it’s a very nice block,” she said in a Parisian accent. Maybe Mr. Snyder thinks so, too.

She’s remembered by cinephiles as a startling ingénue in Howard Hawks’ A Girl in Every Port (1928), W.C. Fields’ It’s the Old Army Game (1926) and William Wellman’s Beggars of Life (1928). But most people know her as a supremely unsettling sexual presence in two films by G.W. Pabst, especially Pandora’s Box (1929), which has come to be accepted as a portrait of the actress as a young flapper.

Brooks plays Lulu, a woman who violates every one of society’s sexual mores—which is to say, she lives her life as if she had the freedom to choose pleasures traditionally reserved for men. “She was a whore when she was twelve,” Brooks said about her Lulu, “and she dies a whore when she’s about eighteen.”

Her utterly uncoy, frankly sexual gaze could cause unaccustomed stirrings in the former Cardinal Ratzinger. It earned her a considerable measure of fame for someone who only made a couple of memorable movies. As a token of that fame, we now have Peter Cowie’s Louise Brooks: Lulu Forever—a heavyweight coffee-table book chock-full of gorgeous pictures, putting Brooks on the same exalted level as Dietrich and Garbo.

How did she get there?

Let me put this in the kindest way possible: Taken as a group, movie critics, archivists and the people who engage in debate about the comparative merits of Norma Talmadge versus Mary Pickford probably didn’t go to the high-school prom. Their experience of movies is vast, their experience of life comparatively small. Most of them (O.K., most of us) are shy bunnies, and sexual aggression in overdrive is likely to freeze us in our tracks. If Louise Brooks had anything, it was sexual aggression in overdrive, and after that faded with age, she made do with supercharged verbal aggression. More than two decades after her death, she’s still got us cowed: Whatever philosophical or sexually based nonsense she spouted went unchallenged—and still does. Witness the previously unpublished letters included in this new tome.

Brooks had a lethal, through-a-glass-darkly eye for everybody’s shortcomings, including her own. “I am uncontrollably cruel,” she wrote, “never content until I have spaded up my victim’s secrets from himself. Since I have already disclosed my own crimes to all who care to listen, there is very little left for revenge but violence.”

The reflexive spewing of bile is the invariable sign of someone whose self-loathing is slopping over the sides—the flip side of the everything-is-wonderful sunshine of Belle Poitrine, the heroine of Little Me (1961), Patrick Dennis’ deadly parody of celebrity autobiographies.

As is usually the case with this vicious mindset, Brooks regarded everybody as at least potentially a whore—the exact price of their virtue open to negotiation. “Every effort is made to attain the two common pleasures: sex and destruction,” she wrote in a previously unpublished letter. “Wealth, fame, social prestige, cars, clothes, yachts, houses, balls, picnics and parties. All these are the lead-in to sex. It is the life and the full-time occupation of the leisure class.” I don’t think she knew what she was talking about. All those things are replacements for sex as much as they are advertisements for it.

The suspicion persists that even if Brooks had had better timing and a more amenable personality, her career would have been abortive, for the simple reason that she was more of a startling sexual presence than an actress. She admitted as much: “Since I never learned to act, I never had any trouble playing myself.” Moreover, she didn’t want to belong to any club that desired her—as a member or as anything else.

After she submarined her movie career, she played at being a mistress to George Preston Marshall, an odious racist who owned the Washington Redskins and refused to integrate his football team until 1962. (Marshall must have had a thing for silent-movie actresses; one of his wives was Corinne Griffith.)

Another lover was William Paley, who helped support Brooks in her old age. Interspersed with these men there was profligate spending, a bankruptcy, various menial jobs and the usual addictions: alcohol and drugs, followed by Catholicism. In time, the Catholicism would be tossed aside, the better to focus on booze. Her longest-lasting addiction was to the chilly, snappish rage that made her book, Lulu in Hollywood (1982), a compulsively readable but frankly unreliable history.

Peter Cowie has attained an honorable status as a film historian, but his prose style is no more than adequate (and I think it’s rather ungracious of him to call Barry Paris’ perfectly good 1989 biography of Brooks “quasi-definitive”).

Lulu Forever exists for its art, and on that score it delivers magnificently: I’d never seen fully half of the images in the book. There are scene stills, candids, snapshots, everything documenting the deadly lure of Lulu. Oddly, there are no pictures of Brooks as a ravaged old woman in a small apartment in Rochester—that would violate the masturbatory fantasia the book seeks to evoke.

Brooks almost always looks like nobody but herself (except for one shot where she resembles Anita Loos), and she’s just as riveting in stills as she was in motion. You don’t have to see her movies to understand the appeal; you just have to observe her bold beauty and the careless look that says, Let’s see what you’ve got in there, Sport.

A provocative question. A provocative life—and thoroughly depressing.

Scott Eyman, a film historian and biographer, reviews books regularly for The Observer.

She’s remembered by cinephiles as a startling ingénue in Howard Hawks’ A Girl in Every Port (1928), W.C. Fields’ It’s the Old Army Game (1926) and William Wellman’s Beggars of Life (1928). But most people know her as a supremely unsettling sexual presence in two films by G.W. Pabst, especially Pandora’s Box (1929), which has come to be accepted as a portrait of the actress as a young flapper.

Brooks plays Lulu, a woman who violates every one of society’s sexual mores—which is to say, she lives her life as if she had the freedom to choose pleasures traditionally reserved for men. “She was a whore when she was twelve,” Brooks said about her Lulu, “and she dies a whore when she’s about eighteen.”

Her utterly uncoy, frankly sexual gaze could cause unaccustomed stirrings in the former Cardinal Ratzinger. It earned her a considerable measure of fame for someone who only made a couple of memorable movies. As a token of that fame, we now have Peter Cowie’s Louise Brooks: Lulu Forever—a heavyweight coffee-table book chock-full of gorgeous pictures, putting Brooks on the same exalted level as Dietrich and Garbo.

How did she get there?

Let me put this in the kindest way possible: Taken as a group, movie critics, archivists and the people who engage in debate about the comparative merits of Norma Talmadge versus Mary Pickford probably didn’t go to the high-school prom. Their experience of movies is vast, their experience of life comparatively small. Most of them (O.K., most of us) are shy bunnies, and sexual aggression in overdrive is likely to freeze us in our tracks. If Louise Brooks had anything, it was sexual aggression in overdrive, and after that faded with age, she made do with supercharged verbal aggression. More than two decades after her death, she’s still got us cowed: Whatever philosophical or sexually based nonsense she spouted went unchallenged—and still does. Witness the previously unpublished letters included in this new tome.

Brooks had a lethal, through-a-glass-darkly eye for everybody’s shortcomings, including her own. “I am uncontrollably cruel,” she wrote, “never content until I have spaded up my victim’s secrets from himself. Since I have already disclosed my own crimes to all who care to listen, there is very little left for revenge but violence.”

The reflexive spewing of bile is the invariable sign of someone whose self-loathing is slopping over the sides—the flip side of the everything-is-wonderful sunshine of Belle Poitrine, the heroine of Little Me (1961), Patrick Dennis’ deadly parody of celebrity autobiographies.

As is usually the case with this vicious mindset, Brooks regarded everybody as at least potentially a whore—the exact price of their virtue open to negotiation. “Every effort is made to attain the two common pleasures: sex and destruction,” she wrote in a previously unpublished letter. “Wealth, fame, social prestige, cars, clothes, yachts, houses, balls, picnics and parties. All these are the lead-in to sex. It is the life and the full-time occupation of the leisure class.” I don’t think she knew what she was talking about. All those things are replacements for sex as much as they are advertisements for it.

The suspicion persists that even if Brooks had had better timing and a more amenable personality, her career would have been abortive, for the simple reason that she was more of a startling sexual presence than an actress. She admitted as much: “Since I never learned to act, I never had any trouble playing myself.” Moreover, she didn’t want to belong to any club that desired her—as a member or as anything else.

After she submarined her movie career, she played at being a mistress to George Preston Marshall, an odious racist who owned the Washington Redskins and refused to integrate his football team until 1962. (Marshall must have had a thing for silent-movie actresses; one of his wives was Corinne Griffith.)

Another lover was William Paley, who helped support Brooks in her old age. Interspersed with these men there was profligate spending, a bankruptcy, various menial jobs and the usual addictions: alcohol and drugs, followed by Catholicism. In time, the Catholicism would be tossed aside, the better to focus on booze. Her longest-lasting addiction was to the chilly, snappish rage that made her book, Lulu in Hollywood (1982), a compulsively readable but frankly unreliable history.

Peter Cowie has attained an honorable status as a film historian, but his prose style is no more than adequate (and I think it’s rather ungracious of him to call Barry Paris’ perfectly good 1989 biography of Brooks “quasi-definitive”).

Lulu Forever exists for its art, and on that score it delivers magnificently: I’d never seen fully half of the images in the book. There are scene stills, candids, snapshots, everything documenting the deadly lure of Lulu. Oddly, there are no pictures of Brooks as a ravaged old woman in a small apartment in Rochester—that would violate the masturbatory fantasia the book seeks to evoke.

Brooks almost always looks like nobody but herself (except for one shot where she resembles Anita Loos), and she’s just as riveting in stills as she was in motion. You don’t have to see her movies to understand the appeal; you just have to observe her bold beauty and the careless look that says, Let’s see what you’ve got in there, Sport.

A provocative question. A provocative life—and thoroughly depressing.

Scott Eyman, a film historian and biographer, reviews books regularly for The Observer.

I can't see how it would be anything but good for Hillary's presidential hopes if this storyline were to become more prominent. Just look at the centrality of Barack Obama's public embrace of faith-based themes in the media's glowing assessment of his presidential chances.

The science of evangelical outreach, such as it is, may be a mystery to lots of Democratic voters, particularly those who live in New York. But if the early fence-sitters can be convinced that Hillary is the candidate who can do it -- and that's a fairly big if -- the whole "can't win" thing starts to make a lot less sense.

-- Azi Paybarah

It's freshman orientation week in Washington, when all the newly elected Representatives get to meet the party leaders and get intensive training on how to put a staff and congressional office together.

The freshman get to bring along one person -- a sort of chief-of-staff-in-training, to help out and learn the ropes. John Hall has tapped Darren Rigger, who he faced in a Democratic primary before going on to defeat Sue Kelly, as his orientation aide.

Rigger just told me that Hall hasn't officially hired anyone just yet but that he's "honored and flattered" to be a part of the orientation. "He's learning, I'm learning. We're learning how to staff your office, and then how you put together a transition team. People are stunned here when they find out we were in the primary."

But, according to Rigger, people are more stunned to see singer songwriter Hall "a celebrity -people recognize him from his music." Rigger said that Hall's only competition for star of the freshman class is Heath Schuler, a former quarterback for the Washington Redskins who was elected to represent a district in Western North Carolina.

"They are the ones that the staffers get excited about meeting," he said before cutting the call short. "Nancy Pelosi is coming to the room - cool."

--Jason Horowitz

Yes, Bill Clinton's unpopularity - Time once used its cover to label him "The Incredible Shrinking President", in case you forgot - was the main catalyst for the Republicans' 52-seat pick-up in the House twelve years ago. But those gains in many cases were decades in the making, conservative-leaning Southern districts that had long ago abandoned the national Democratic Party but that had remained loyal to their local congressmen. '94 simply marked the belated realization of Lyndon Johnson's supposed comment when he signed the 1964 Civil Rights Act: "There goes the South for a generation."

Like Clinton, George W. Bush seems to be triggering another belated regional realignment, this time in the Northeast. Just consider the six New England states, home to a combined 22 House seat. 17 of them are now occupied by Democrats (counting Vermont's Bernie Sanders). The five remaining Republicans are avowed moderates, relics in many ways of the days when Rockefeller Republicanism ruled the East Coast. By this time tomorrow, all five could be politically extinct, giving New England an all-Democratic House delegation. And, as with the once-Democratic seats in the South, once these seats leave the GOP column, they're probably gone for good.

Here's a quick look at the prospects of New England's five remaining House Republicans, ranked (subjectively) in order of their vulnerability tomorrow:

1) Christopher Shays (CT-4): Locked in a Gold Coast rematch with Diane Farrell, the '04 opponent he bested by just four points, Shays is now clearly the underdog. His credentials are sufficiently moderate and maverick in nature for what is an increasingly Democratic district, but he picked the wrong issue to show loyalty to the White House: Iraq. The ads Mike Bloomberg cut for him are a nice touch, but probably don't mean much to the Greenwich and Westport commuters. Zogby has Farrell ahead by seven points - a good place for any candidate to be, but particularly a challenger. Shays' campaign says their polls have him ahead considerably. But it was a wise politico who once advised us to ignore internal polls - "But," he added, "if you're going to listen to them, shave 8 points off whatever they say." In other words, Shays probably needs the luck of the Washington Redskins to survive now.

2) Nancy Johnson (CT-5): Her youthful opponent, state Senator Chris Murphy, is sharp, well-pedigreed, quite personable and very ambitious - someone who was almost certainly honing a future State of the Union address in the bathroom mirror at age nine. Originally, this wasn't supposed to be Murphy's year, since the Johnson, a 71-year-old pro-choice Unitarian, is so closely identified with the state's moderate political traditions. Murphy would put a scare into her, fall short, and then wait for her to retire in another term or two, the thinking went. That was earlier this year. Now, Murphy has pulled ahead, with momentum and the anti-Bush national climate at his back. The district itself is an odd mix of Democratic and Republican areas - the result of a 2002 redistricting map that pitted Johnson and then-Democratic Rep. Jim Maloney against one another. It leans Democratic, but President Bush made a strong play for the 5th in 2004, as his terrorism credentials resonated with the Reagan Democrats of the Naugatuck Valley. Johnson has tried to push those same buttons, but it's starting to look like the 5th District's voters have decided not to let the 12-term incumbent pick her own retirement date.

3) Charlie Bass (NH-2): This was not supposed to be much of a race, and the fact that it is spells potentially lethal trouble for the national GOP. Bass, son of a New Hampshire congressman and grandson of a governor, has represented the western half of New Hampshire (read: Nashua, Concord, Keene and the area around Dartmouth College) since 1994, when he unseated the unfortunately-named Dick Swett, who remains the last Democrat elected to Congress from New Hampshire. Bass, a mild-mannered pro-choice moderate with a respectable environmental voting record, is in many ways a good ideological fit for his district, which has swung decisively to the Democrats at the presidential level, a response to the national GOP's emphasis on conservative social stances. Bass has never broken 60 percent in any of his campaigns, but no challenger has come closer than eight points, either - even Swett's wife, who outspent Bass two-to-one in 2002. But now Bass has fallen behind Paul Hodes, the same Democratic lawyer he defeated by 20 points just two years ago. It has long been assumed that New Hampshire's 2nd District would one day fall into Democratic hands - but with Bass, Republicans believed they could prolong the inevitable for another decade or two. It would now be a shock if he hangs on.

4) Rob Simmons (CT-2): Simmons was seen as the most vulnerable Connecticut Republican at the start of this cycle. Actually, of all the Republican incumbents in the country, he represents the most Democratic district-- the Eastern Connecticut-based First gave John Kerry a ten-point win two years ago. That explains why there was chatter this summer that national Republicans would seek to entice Simmons to abandon his re-election bid and instead take Alan Schlesinger's place as the party's Senate nominee - potentially giving the GOP a shot at an otherwise unwinnable seat. Nothing came of it, of course, Schlesinger's refusal to budge being only one of the reasons. That said, Simmons has surprised this fall in a rematch with his 2002 opponent, former state Representative Joe Courtney. Elected in 2000, Simmons has never broken 54 percent in a general election, but he's battled back gamely from some damning poll numbers earlier this year. Zogby now has him ahead by five points, while Research 2000 has the race dead even. Having an "R" after his name in 2006 may yet keep Simmons from clearing 50 percent, but somewhat amazingly he actually has a shot. This race will be an excellent barometer of the size of the Democratic wave tomorrow.

5) Jeb Bradley (NH-1): The second-term incumbent from the Lake Winnipesaukee area may well be the last New England House Republican left standing after tomorrow - and he'll a stroke of luck to thank for it. In September, 1st District Democrats defiantly thumbed their noses at Washington, handing their nomination to a former social worker named Carol Shea-Porter and snubbing Jim Craig, the state House minority leader who had been championed by the DCCC. On the stump, Shea-Porter is inarguably a better candidate than Craig, explaining her chocking win in what was a historically low-turnout primary. But her rancorous relationship with the DCCC has kept them from flooding the 1st District the way they have the 2nd District. On top of that, Bradley is fortified by a slight GOP advantage in the district, which favored Bush by three points over Kerry (thus making New Hampshire's 1st District the most Republican district in New England). For all that, though, Shea-Porter is not far off Bradley's pace. If independent voters are even angrier with the GOP than conventional wisdom tells us - and if the GOP base is as torpid as many claim it is - a win by Shea-Porter, who does not even crack national observers' lists of the top 60 House challengers in the country, is not impossible. And if she does win, it will be mean nothing short of a national catastrophe for Republicans.

The only remotely-conceivable Republican pick-up in New England would be Vermont's open at-large seat. But the national climate makes it highly improbable that the GOP nominee, Adjutant General Martha Rainville, will suddenly overcome what has been a stubbornly persistent deficit in the polls.

The GOP bloodletting in New England probably won't stop with the House, either. If, as expected, Lincoln Chafee loses his Rhode Island Senate seat and Democrat Deval Patrick prevails in the Massachusetts governor's race, about all the GOP will have left in New England will be the governorships of Connecticut and Rhode Island and Maine's two Senate seats. For national Republicans, though, the end of their competitive days in the region comes with a silver lining: With each new census, the Northeast continues to shrink in population and, thus, political clout. The South, meanwhile, is only growing stronger.

Mr. McDonell's first cover as Sports Illustrated 's managing editor-a sweaty, shirtless shot of retired N.B.A. great Charles Barkley busting from broken chains and shackles-has infuriated not only some readers, but also minority employees and others within Mr. McDonell's company, Time Inc., sources said.

At one point, angry Time Inc. employees considered demanding a sit-down with Mr. McDonell, sources said. But as of Tuesday, March 12 it is unknown if such a meeting will occur.

To be sure, creating controversy and drawing attention to SI was exactly what Mr. McDonell had in mind when he approved the cover shot, which was accompanied by the tag line "CHARLES UNCHAINED: Living Large and Holding Forth on Everything From His Golf, Money and Politics to Michael Jordan, TV Sports and Enron." The tag was accompanied by a quote from Mr. Barkley: "Every black kid thinks the only way he can be successful is through athletics. That is a terrible thing."

Certainly Mr. McDonell, an experienced editor who was hand-picked by Time Inc. editorial director John Huey to help reinvigorate the venerable yet tired SI , knew the provocative photograph and text would elicit a reaction. It's uncertain, however, that he knew what a hubbub he would cause within Time Inc.-not to mention SI itself.

"People at the magazine are upset about it," said one SI source. "Terry was questioned about it before it went to press."

Mr. McDonell declined to comment on the cover decision or its repercussions. Still, sources said it's unlikely that the cover stir will have much impact upon Mr. McDonell's leading of the magazine-or upon Mr. Huey's stewardship of Time Inc. Since assuming the editorial director's role in July 2001, Mr. Huey has made aggressive changes at several prominent Time Inc. titles-none bigger than bringing aboard Mr. McDonell, the former editor of US Weekly , Men's Journal and Esquire , to shake up SI .

A Time Inc. spokesperson said Mr. Huey was not available for comment. But his boss, Time Inc. editor in chief Norman Pearlstine, sounded untroubled by the cover controversy. Mr. Pearlstine said the shot and cover line "said a lot about Charles Barkley and Charles Barkley's feelings about racism in sports."

Mr. Pearlstine said he was not surprised that there were staffers within Time Inc. who found the cover problematic. "We have a lot of editorial employees and, believe it or not, a lot of African-American employees," he said. "It wouldn't surprise me if there were a difference of opinion. I don't picture a unanimous point of view."

Mr. Pearlstine also said he wasn't sure if the anger was primarily because SI had given such a platform to Mr. Barkley, an athlete turned TV telecaster known for expounding on a variety of subjects, or because of the cover imagery and what it represented.

"What I can't tell, frankly," Mr. Pearlstine added, "is if people are upset for Charles Barkley being Charles Barkley, asking 'Why is Sports Illustrated playing to his way on the world?', as opposed to seeing the cover perpetuate a racial stereotype."

A Sports Illustrated spokesperson said the cover, which was photographed in Miami, was a "collaborative effort," though Mr. McDonell, who started at SI on Feb. 28, had the authority to make a call on the final shot. Mr. Barkley was photographed chained, and then the chains were "broken" by the "CHARLES UNCHAINED" text when the cover was digitally altered at SI 's offices, the spokesperson said.

Mr. Pearlstine, who routinely looks at covers for all Time Inc. magazines, said Mr. McDonell reached out to him for his input on the Barkley cover.

"Terry made the decision that the chains should be broken," Mr. Pearlstine said. That, in conjunction with the coverline, the Time Inc. editor in chief added, "took away most stereotyping in my mind.

"Maybe I should have worked harder on that," Mr. Pearlstine continued. "But I think if I had the decision to do over again, I'd do the same thing."

Outside the magazine, the cover shot has generated wrath from former SI scribe and Savoy editor in chief Roy Johnson and Kenny Smith, Mr. Barkley's co-host on Turner Network Television's Inside the NBA . Upon seeing it, Mr. Smith went after Mr. Barkley on the air, saying, "The cover perpetuates racism and the stereotypes that you basically went at."

Mr. Barkley responded by saying, "America assumes that black people are [like] black athletes. Black athletes are really rich. Black people are struggling. Black athletes are not black America. Black people are really struggling. Everybody is not going to like the picture, but you will get over it." Mr. Barkley said that after the photo session, he discussed the cover before its publication with friends who advised him it was a bad idea, but he didn't appear to regret it.

Meanwhile, Mr. McDonell may soon have other headaches to deal with at SI . According to sources familiar with the situation, ESPN the Magazine has made overtures to three top SI writers-Gary Smith, Rick Reilly and Steve Rushin. While no details have been put before Mr. Rushin, it's unlikely he would leave. Sources said Mr. Rushin's contract expires early next year, and he has shown indifference for ESPN in the past. Meanwhile, though, according to sources, ESPN has approached Mr. Smith with a proposal to write long features that could later be turned into full-length documentaries. Similarly, ESPN's television arm has offered "several different television options" to Mr. Reilly, including co-hosting a television show and "several writing options," but they have not yet discussed money.

"He's just giving the new regime time to get adjusted and see what kind of changes they make," said one source of Mr. Reilly, whose $500,000-a-year contract runs out in November. "Negotiations could heat up there in about a month or so."

Mr. Rushin did not return a call seeking comment. Mr. Smith, when reached, declined to comment. Mr. Reilly, too, declined to go into the matter. "You want me to predict the future?" he asked, then answered, referring to the NCAA basketball tournament: "I can't even figure out who's going to win the West regional."

A spokesperson for ESPN denied that such overtures have been made to SI staffers. "We have not made an offer to Rick Reilly or anyone else at Sports Illustrated ," the ESPN spokesperson said. "We have a great editorial staff in place right now. And we're very happy with the way things are going."

Asked about the prospect of ESPN stealing his top talent, Mr. McDonell said only: "They wish.

-Sridhar Pappu

A few weeks ago, when The New York Times announced that then–chief correspondent R. W. Apple had been appointed the newspaper's associate editor-an unusual but not unprecedented title that recognized him as an in-house Svengali in his expertise with politics, international affairs and eating well-the appointment felt ceremonial. In The Times' own story about the move, executive editor Howell Raines called Mr. Apple "a kind of resident sage on journalism."

What the move really showed, Times sources said, was that Mr. Raines is concerned about filling the void that has been left in the D.C. bureau's coverage now that Mr. Apple, 67, isn't writing as much for the news pages. Since the beginning of this year, Mr. Apple has only written for The Times on food for the Dining In–Dining Out section.

In recent years, Mr. Apple and chief Washington correspondent Adam Clymer have been the authoritative voices that The Times could muster for big, sweeping, analytical pieces on foreign policy and politics. Mr. Clymer, 64, is approaching retirement, though he told Off the Record he doesn't know when exactly.

Mr. Raines' solution, sources said, is to bring in Patrick Tyler, currently the Moscow bureau chief, to Washington on a permanent basis. "I don't think anyone doubts that Howell wanted to bring Pat Tyler to Washington," a Times source said. "Howell thought Washington didn't have any more good big voices. He's obviously looking for Pat to do that."

Mr. Tyler, whom Mr. Raines hired away from The Washington Post in 1990 when Mr. Raines was the D.C. bureau chief, came to Washington after Sept. 11 to cover the Bush administration's foreign policy and the possible expansion of the Afghan war to other nations like Iraq and Libya.

Though Mr. Tyler has plenty of experience covering the State Department, the Pentagon and the C.I.A., he has not been a part of the Washington bureau for many years. Before taking up the Moscow post in 2000, Mr. Tyler spent four years as the Beijing bureau chief.

Sources also said that Mr. Raines wants Mr. Tyler to expand his portfolio by covering politics as well as foreign policy. As a result, Times staffers are worried that Mr. Tyler might displace other people at the bureau, if and when he moves there.

When reached by Off the Record, Mr. Tyler declined comment. A spokesperson for Mr. Raines and The Times had no comment before deadline.

The role for Mr. Tyler sounds a lot like the role Todd Purdum was supposed to fill at the Washington bureau. Up until last year, Mr. Purdum had been the Los Angeles bureau chief. In May of last year, he moved to Washington, where, as D.C. bureau chief Jill Abramson put it in a staff memo at the time, "it is expected he'll emerge as our next Washington correspondent"-the title that Mr. Clymer holds.

But to date, that hasn't happened. Mr. Purdum, who also declined comment, is covering the State Department for The Times , and within the paper, the talk of him becoming a "big voice" for The Times has been put on hold. Mr. Clymer said that Mr. Purdum's assignment was driven by necessity. "They needed a diplomatic correspondent," he said, "and they thought he'd be good at it, and they're right."

Of course, the plan for Mr. Purdum to come to D.C. and become a big voice was one of a raft of personnel moves made during the spring of 2001 by The Times ' then executive editor, Joe Lelyveld. Now, sources at the paper said, Mr. Raines appears to be revisiting and reconfiguring some of his predecessor's changes.

On Mr. Purdum's situation, a source said: "That was Joe's intention. Joe's not the executive editor any more." Last spring's moves, which put new people into big-ticket posts like the White House, United Nations, Jerusalem and Los Angeles, were made by Mr. Lelyveld in the weeks before the announcement on May 21 that Mr. Raines would be the next executive editor.

"I'm sure Howell was irritated that Joe moved Todd back here, as he was irritated by all of those moves," a Times source said. "Howell was pissed off that Joe was making these 11th-hour pardons like Clinton."

-Gabriel Snyder

On Feb. 22, two reporters for the Far Eastern Economic Review -owned by company Dow Jones, which also owns The Wall Street Journal -had their visas revoked by the government of Thailand. Shawn Crispin and Rodney Tasker had been ordered to leave following the publication of a Review article on Jan. 10 detailing differences between the country's king, Bhumibol Adulyadej, and the prime minister, Thaksin Shinawatra. Within the country, copies of the Jan. 10 issue of the Review were banned.

On Friday, March 8, the situation was resolved when the government of Thailand reinstated the visas of the two men.

In approaching the situation, Review editor Michael Vatikiotis treaded lightly-and in a way that an editor would never react if the disagreement were with a U.S. governmental agency. In a letter sent on March 3 to the president of the Thai National Assembly, he wrote of his "sincere regret for the misunderstanding and controversy that has been generated by an article published in our issue of January 10, 2002."

Mr. Vatikiotis went on to write that "It was never the intention of the Far Eastern Economic Review to write or generate any adverse commentary concerning Thailand's highest institution and if our issue of January 10 has been so interpreted, we most sincerely apologize for it."

Even the normally hard-charging editorial page of The Journal found itself on its tippy-toes in this regard. In its March 4 issue, the editorial page went out of its way to say that "the report meant no disrespect to Thailand's royal family" before going after Mr. Thaksin, whom, it said, "has a thin skin and is quick to blame others, especially foreigners."

Paul Gigot, The Journal 's editorial-page editor, said the careful wording was an example of realpolitik . "While you have to speak for your own principles," Mr. Gigot said, "you have to be aware of certain local sensitivities. The biggest sensitivity in Thailand is the king. There's a real taboo against attacking the king. And in any case, we wouldn't. He's very enlightened. That's why we aimed our response at the prime minister."

While Mr. Gigot, a former Review reporter who also worked for The Asian Wall Street Journal , was happy with the reinstatement, he expressed concern regarding the problems faced by other journalists there.

"We're pleased with the outcome for our reporters," Mr. Gigot said. "It boosted circulation for the Review . But the problem remains with the government's treatment of local Thai journalists. That's troubling because Thailand has, in the past, been enlightened compared with Malaysia and some other countries in Asia."

-S.P.

The New York Sun 's business operation recently filled another desk when it announced that former New York Times executive Christopher Garrity would become the paper's vice president of advertising sales.

Mr. Garrity spent 15 years at The Tim e s , and for the last two years of his tenure he served as group director for the national sales office. He joins The Sun's circulation director, Catherine Lane, formerly of Newsday , and William Kummel, the company's chief operating officer.

Mr. Garrity is no stranger to start-ups. Having been cut as a backup quarterback for the Washington Redskins in 1982, he joined the upstart Washington Federals of the United States Football League. The Federals went 4-14 in 1983, and after the 1984 season moved to Orlando. Following the 1985 season, the league itself folded. (Off the Record trivia bonus: The Washington Post 's Federals correspondent was … David Remnick!)

When asked if he saw a similarity between The Sun and the USFL, Mr. Garrity said: "Anytime you're an upstart in a city like this, it's going to be a challenge. Given the economic environment, it's going to be an even bigger challenge."

-S.P.

On the heels of a court-ordered audit of Douglas Elliman's books, which found more than $90 million in interest-free loans from the company to Howard Milstein's private ventures, Philip Milstein has asked a Delaware judge to strip his cousin of ownership of the businesses, placing them in the hands of a family trust.

The lawsuit marks a dramatic escalation of the family feud, which has paralyzed one of the city's richest families, with holdings worth a reported $5 billion. And along with recent filings in another case over the Milford Plaza, it gives the fullest answer yet to the questions that have lingered over the whole mess since it burst into public view last spring: What caused a long-standing division of power between the two sides of this powerful New York family, headed by brothers Paul and Seymour Milstein, to break down? And why now, with the family's investments more profitable than ever?

Philip Milstein, Seymour's son, says he has gone to war to keep Howard Milstein from doing to the rest of the family businesses what he did to Douglas Elliman. Philip Milstein says Howard Milstein has been attempting to liquidate pieces of the family assets he controls, freeing himself and his younger brother, Edward, to pursue their own business ventures. Howard Milstein sold Douglas Elliman last year for about $70 million, a substantial profit-but not with the permission of the company's stockholders, all family members, and not before he used the company as a piggy bank, Philip Milstein says. An audit "confirmed Philip Milstein's growing suspicion that the defendants had been engaged in systematic mismanagement, waste of corporate assets, self-dealing and appropriation of money belonging to the companies for their private ventures," according to a complaint filed in Delaware Chancery Court in July. A lengthy auditor's report, filed along with the lawsuit, purports to show that Howard Milstein raided the cash-rich business to finance, among other investments, his personal stake in the New York Islanders hockey franchise, his unsuccessful bids to buy the NFL's Cleveland Browns and Washington Redskins, and his purchase of a half-share of the Chicago commercial brokerage, Miglin-Beitler.

Howard Milstein subsequently renamed the Chicago brokerage Douglas Elliman-Beitler and expanded into New York, operating free of his family's control.

On paper, all the loans appear to have been paid back, though the auditors said Douglas Elliman's bookkeeping was so sloppy that it was impossible to know for sure. Philip Milstein is not claiming that any money was stolen. But he has now turned his attention to the Milford Plaza Hotel, where he expects auditors to find similar "misconduct," according to an affidavit filed in New York State Supreme Court in Manhattan.

"None of the allegations are true," said James Quinn, an attorney for Howard Milstein. Mr. Quinn has yet to file an answer to Philip Milstein's complaint and said he had no further comment. In response to previous suits, Howard Milstein has pointed to the flush balance sheets of the companies he controls, and has contended that Seymour and Philip Milstein have thwarted his efforts to sell, develop or otherwise profitably dispose of family assets.

The lawsuits, he suggests, are part of an effort to smear him and gain leverage in an overall dispute over the control of family assets, including a property on 42nd Street at Eighth Avenue, and Emigrant Savings Bank, which Philip Milstein heads. Howard Milstein and his father, Paul, are suing to have him removed for alleged mismanagement.

Paul and Seymour Milstein have been meeting periodically to work out a "global resolution" to the disputes, according to court documents. Several sources close to the Milstein family say John Zuccotti-a former deputy Mayor and family lawyer who is now a top developer himself-is mediating the talks.

Recent developments, however, make a resolution look unlikely. "You may not realize this," Howard Milstein wrote in a June 21 letter to his cousin, "but two can play the same game you're playing."

Philip Milstein says his suspicions were first aroused in the spring of 1998, when Howard stopped passing on financial information about Douglas Elliman. He asked his cousin to call a board meeting and was ignored. At the end of the year, he says, the company failed to distribute profits to its shareholders.

The real estate market had just entered its current bull cycle, and Douglas Elliman had netted a profit of $10 million for the year. At the same time, "no doubt related to the increase in available cash," Philip Milstein's suit says, Howard and Edward Milstein began chasing their owner's-box dreams. In February, 1998, they headed a group which bought the Islanders for $195 million. (He unloaded the team this year for a $5 million loss.) Through the spring and summer of 1998, they chased the Browns. Frustrated in Cleveland, they turned their attention late in the year to the Redskins, mounting a league-record $800 million bid for the team.

After Douglas Elliman was sold, Philip Milstein sued to get access to the company's books. A Delaware judge ruled that his cousin had "stonewalled" him and ordered the books opened to a forensic audit.

Auditors from the firm of FTI/Kahn found that while Howard and Edward Milstein were chasing sports teams, they had advanced $24.6 million to the Islanders, $1.2 million to Cleveland Sports Ventures and $5.1 million to Washington Sports Ventures, all from Douglas Elliman accounts.

Hats and Vases

The company's chief financial officer and its office manager were sent to work on these and other projects, the lawsuit says. Everything from travel expenses to Redskins hats to Tiffany vases-wedding presents for Islanders' players Ken Belanger, Jason Dawe, Scott Lachance and Tom Chorske-were charged to Douglas Elliman, company records show.

According to the audit, Howard Milstein also loaned company money for a number of other personal business ventures: $23 million for various real estate developments; $5.4 million in venture capital financing for two Internet start-ups, News Alert and Data.bid; $4.8 million toward a now-stalled redevelopment initiative in Niagara Falls N.Y., along with $300,000 for a Boxing Hall of Fame he plans to put there; and $1.5 million towards Douglas Elliman–Beitler.

Mr. Milstein put a law firm, Wiel, Gotshal and Manges, on a $10,000 a month retainer, though it seems the firm never did any work for Douglas Elliman (before defending the company against Philip Milstein's lawsuits), according to the audit. And the audit detailed $5.2 million in rent and lease payments on behalf of another law firm, Constantine and Partners, along with $200,000 in payments for unspecified legal services. Mr. Milstein's wife is a founding partner in the firm. "It is unclear," the auditors wrote, "how or if these obligations were retired."

In fact, the auditors said, "unusual and unconventional accounting practices" made it difficult to figure out exactly who owed what to whom. Even if all the interest-free loans were repaid, however, the auditors estimate that Douglas Elliman could have made $10 million simply by investing the money in the stock market.

To put the size of the loans in perspective, the auditors noted that over three years, Douglas Elliman paid out a total of $90 million to the brothers' private ventures. It spent $68 million on everything else.

Howard and Edward Milstein's pursuit of the Washington Redskins collapsed in April 1999, amid questions about the solidity of their finances. Around the same time, the brothers' debts to Douglas Elliman reached about $15 million.

That May, Howard Milstein closed the deal to sell Douglas Elliman to the Insignia Financial Group. Philip Milstein contends that his cousins lied to Insignia and perjured themselves in forms filed with the Delaware Secretary of State by stating that shareholders had agreed to the sale. He notes that the brokerage has seen a 25 percent increase in revenues since it was sold, and wonders whether it could have secured a higher price if shopped around longer. The sale, the lawsuit says, "had everything to do with [the] need to raise cash quickly."

Afterwards, Howard Milstein held onto several million dollars, the auditors said-including Philip Milstein's $10 million cut-which they continued to plow into their own ventures. In November, the amount of the outstanding loans reached close to $16 million. That's when Philip Milstein filed suit to get access to the books.

"In the months subsequent to [Philip Milstein] filing suit in Delaware in November 1999, a novel event for the partnership occurred," the report said. "The outstanding balances due from the [Howard Milstein] ventures to the partnership were reduced as a result of funds received from unknown sources."

Philip Milstein isn't sure of the source of the funds, but he's trying to find out. If the Delaware lawsuit goes forward, Howard Milstein's numerous private ventures will likely be subjected to audits themselves as part of the discovery process. And back in New York, Philip Milstein has sued to get access to the books of the Milford Plaza Hotel.

Philip Milstein has been trying to get a look at the hotel's financial records for months, first by asking, then by suing. A scathing exchange of letters over the summer provides an unexpurgated view of the rancor between the two sides of the family.

Nasty Letters

"I am sorry you find it necessary to harass us with useless correspondence," Howard Milstein wrote on June 21. He went on to note that the hotel had doubled in profitability over the past five years, pulling in $21 million a year. "I hope you will think better of this silliness and see if the current initiatives to resolve the friction between our families can bear fruit."

On June 23, Philip Milstein responded: "It is not a question of profitability (bank versus hotel or otherwise) but rather a question of accountability to your partners."

On July 20, Howard Milstein extended an invitation to review the records "anytime after Labor Day." Soon after, Philip Milstein sued.

In an affidavit filed in connection with that suit, Philip Milstein made his suspicions clear. "Given Howard's pattern of conduct, I am concerned that, absent scrutiny by his partners, he may misuse the partnership's assets or engage in [unauthorized] transactions."

Philip Milstein also elaborated on a series of clashes with his cousin, all of them following the same pattern: Howard trying to develop or divest, Seymour and Philip trying to thwart him. At 42nd Street, Howard's negotiations with potential tenants for a 35-story office building were quickly followed by letters to the tenants from Seymour, saying Howard was not authorized to develop the site.

In 1998, Howard negotiated a sale of the Milford Plaza for $253 million to an undisclosed buyer. On Aug. 10 of that year, his father Paul sent a memo reminding him to consult his uncle. "I wouldn't be in such a rush," he wrote. The next day, Seymour Milstein sent a memo of his own, written in capital letters: "Please consider this as notice that you do not have my approval."

Seymour later relented, but by that time the opportunity had slipped away, according to a counterclaim filed by Howard Milstein. In August 1999, Howard claims, his cousin scuttled another deal, this one to lease the hotel for $18 million a year.

Howard Milstein claims Philip "maliciously sought to interfere with [the] deal with the intent to harm the partnership and particularly his cousin, Howard Milstein." He's asking for $250 million in damages.

At a hearing held Aug. 10, Howard Milstein's attorney questioned Philip Milstein's motives in bringing the suit in the first place. "The purpose of these things is to get these things into the paper, to say negative things about our client," he argued.

Supreme Court Justice Barry Cozier ordered that Philip Milstein be allowed access to the financial record within 30 days, but threatened sanctions if he brought more "unnecessary litigation." Philip Milstein's auditors are currently examining the hotel's books. Their report is expected in a few months.

Barring an unexpected breakthrough, the family now faces a series of long and embarrassing court battles. The damages the fight has already caused the Milsteins are incalculable. The 42nd Street site, which Paul and Seymour long hoped to develop, will be auctioned off sometime soon in a bidding process overseen by an impartial referee, Manhattan attorney Judah Gribetz. The family name, which Howard Milstein had hoped to burnish with his sports-team purchases, has suffered.

Worse yet, the battle may have just begun.

Through ups and downs and Disney and Doug Durst, the Milsteins never gave up their dream of leaving a mark on Times Square. Years of ballyhooed plans yielded only stymied negotiations, recriminations and lawsuits. Still, they held on to the property, even as the state condemned every other lot on the block.

Yet the Milsteins seem finally to have met an enemy capable of prying away their dream property: the Milsteins.

In recent months, a bitter-and seemingly long-standing-private feud between Paul's son Howard, a brash would-be sports mogul, and Seymour's son Philip, the low-profile head of Emigrant Savings Bank, has burst into warfare in open court. Now Paul, 78, and Seymour, 80, brothers who built their father's flooring business into a real estate empire, are engaged in a nasty battle over the assets of a lifetime.

Claiming mismanagement, Paul Milstein is trying to remove his nephew, Philip, as chief executive officer of the family's $7.4 billion bank, and put Howard in control. Philip Milstein, in a lawsuit of his own, is claiming Howard sold the family's real estate brokerage without permission and may have misused the proceeds in his ill-fated pursuit of the Washington Redskins.

The family's lucrative partnership with the Weiler-Arnow family has been dissolved. And the parking lot on 42nd Street will most likely be sold to another developer. As the only privately held piece of land left on 42nd Street in Times Square, the $5 million parking lot today is worth, by one estimate, $150 million.

"We do not want this property to be damaged and subsumed in a Milstein family feud," said Richard Seltzer, an attorney for the Weiler-Arnows, who sided with Seymour Milstein in thwarting his nephew Howard's recent attempts to develop the property as a 35-story office tower.

"We want to rescue this property and sell it at the peak of the market," said Mr. Seltzer. The phone has been ringing off the hook.

Members of both sides of the Milstein family, and their attorneys, declined to comment on any of the family's disputes.

"It's really sad," said one real estate figure who's known the family for years, "because Paul and Seymour were able to spend virtually their entire lifetimes working together as partners. They're two older men, and at this stage of their lives, having always worked together, it's now clear there has to be a division between the children."

The origins of the dispute are murky. But it's clear that one family member stands at the center of it all: Howard Milstein, who, after failing to buy a National Football League team and selling his beleaguered New York Islanders, has recently turned his attentions back to the family business.

Predictably, each side of the family blames the other for starting the fight.

"It is my belief," Howard Milstein said in an affidavit filed in May in State Supreme Court in Manhattan in the lawsuit over control over the 42nd Street property, "that Seymour Milstein, and his children, Constance Milstein and Philip Milstein, have encouraged [the Weiler-Arnow family] to file the current action, and have supported [them] in this action, solely for the purpose of gaining leverage in connection with other disputes among members of the Milstein family."

"We're very well aware that Howard is trying to pick fights with Philip and his Uncle Seymour," Mr. Seltzer countered.

Yet many close to the family see a subtler, and more inevitable, force at work: the passing of one generation, begetting power struggles in the next.

"I could show you Charlemagne," said one close family associate, "and I could show you a kingdom divided in three parts."

Real Estate Royalty

The imperial metaphor, if a bit overheated, is one that pops up regularly in conversations with Milstein associates.

"This family, they're people who regard themselves as Manhattan's royalty," said one leading developer. "And they conduct themselves accordingly."

The empire began modestly. Paul Milstein went to work for his father's Circle Floor Company after World War II. Older brother Seymour joined the family's new tile business. In the postwar boom, there were plenty of new buildings, and they all needed floors.

But the brothers aspired to do more than floor. In 1961, Paul Milstein bought a site on 68th Street between Broadway and Amsterdam and built the 35-story Dorchester Towers. Today, the family is worth a reported $5 billion.

The Bronx-bred brothers acquired a reputation for a bare-knuckled business style and willingness to fight disputes in court. That reputation hampered the brothers when they turned their attention to Times Square.

It was a daring move. Times Square then was a pit of massage parlors and porn shops. But state officials had little interest in giving their lucrative development deals to the likes of the Milsteins.

They lost bids to develop office towers to developer George Klein, a favorite of former Mayor Ed Koch. Officials also bypassed their bid to develop a wholesale merchandise market (slated to go up on the parking lot and adjacent properties), first wooing the Kennedy family, flirting with Mr. Klein, then handing the project to a consortium including developer Jerry Speyer-who hadn't even bid for the site. The Milsteins eventually brought suit charging political favoritism for Mr. Klein, whom Paul Milstein once referred to as "Nazi Klein." But the real estate market collapsed and the project never got off the ground.

Over the years, the Milsteins have announced grand plans to turn the property into a budget hotel, a theater, apartments and an office building. Those deals ran aground, too, as state officials chose other developers for prime sites, and resisted giving the brothers big tax breaks to build on their own property. Still, the Milsteins held on to their parking lot.

"They had bought the property, put up the dough," said the Manhattan Institute's William J. Stern, who negotiated with the Milsteins over the property back in the 80's, when he was running the state's Urban Development Corporation. "They owned it and they just did not feel like being bounced because they weren't popular with a certain set."

Mr. Stern said he had favored letting the Milsteins develop.

"Paul and Seymour were a dynamic duo," Mr. Stern said. "They were totally different personalities. Seymour was very scholarly and thoughtful. Paul was more aggressive. Together they were a tremendous combination, and they understood New York real estate."

The personality differences led one associate to nickname them "the diplomat and the barbarian."

It is clear that they passed some of their personality traits, though not their interdependence, on to their children.

Howard, 49, is Paul's son, portly like his father, and with the same ambition and aggression, and a Harvard law degree to boot. Riffing off his initials, "H.M.," his uncle Seymour has been heard to refer to him as "His Royal Majesty."

"Howard is gregarious, generous," said Manhattan landowner and Republican power broker James Ortenzio, a friend. "Howard is one of the few people who are a lot of fun."

In recent years, he has made forays into a series of high-profile projects, with a mixed record of success. Last month, his ownership group (including his younger brother, Edward) sold the Islanders for $190 million, a $5 million loss, leaving behind a gutted team payroll, a lawsuit against the company that operates the Nassau Coliseum, and nasty spat with Long Island politicians, one of whom referred to the Milsteins as "pigs at the trough."

His record bid for the Redskins, $800 million, was rejected by the N.F.L., wary of his debt burden and brawling reputation. The family name wasn't burnished any when, shortly before he filed a suit claiming he was undermined by the N.F.L.'s favored bidder, John Kent Cooke, Mr. Milstein sent a family employee to Bermuda wearing a wire, posing as an investor in an attempt to get Mr. Cooke to say something incriminating. (The ruse failed; Mr. Cooke and Mr. Milstein are still fighting in court.)

In Niagara Falls, Mr. Milstein's $130-million plan to redevelop the dilapidated town's center once caused residents to hail him as a savior. But the plan's centerpiece, a casino, has fallen by the wayside (gambling being still illegal in New York). "They've missed a lot of deadlines," said Mayor Irene Elia. "We've given them an ultimatum of July, and so far I haven't seen anything."

"I worked with both Paul and Howard at Battery Park City," said former authority chief Meyer ("Sandy") Frucher, now chairman of the Philadelphia Stock Exchange. "I knew them to be creative, energetic and honorable-if not occasionally loud. However, when you get to know them, they're actually lovable."

By contrast, Mr. Milstein's cousin Philip, 51, has taken after his father Seymour's quieter approach, associates say. "Philip is the mild-mannered chairman of Emigrant," said one developer.

The Milstein brothers bought Emigrant Savings in 1986, installing their sons as vice chairmen. When asked why they wanted a bank, they said it gave the kids something to do. They've since built Emigrant Savings into one of the largest thrifts on the East Coast.

Eventually, Philip took over at the bank, while Howard ran Milstein Properties and the Douglas Elliman residential real estate brokerage.

Dueling Cousins

The cousins have always been jealous of their turf. When Philip, and not Howard, was named as the Milstein family representative to the Grand Central Partnership board in 1997, Howard stormed out of a board meeting threatening to sue. Philip quickly got out of his cousin's way, but Howard Milstein, along with other developers, embarked on a lobbying campaign with city officials that eventually helped cost board president Dan Biederman his job.

"They really should just have a duel," said Norman Sturner of Murray Hill Properties, who served on the partnership board shortly afterward.

When Howard Milstein turned his attention away from his feuds with Long Island politicians and the N.F.L., and back toward the family business, it was only a matter of time, some observers said, before he started fighting again.

"He's a very bright guy," said one developer, "but he's got this sort of arrogance."

The labor division broke down completely last year as age increasingly sidelined Paul Milstein, and he began to cede control of his interests to Howard and Edward.

Last May, Howard Milstein sold the Douglas Elliman brokerage for around $70 million. He didn't bother to inform, or seek approval from, the other side of the family, which held a 40 percent share, according to a lawsuit filed in November by Philip Milstein in Delaware Chancery Court.

When he asked to inspect the books of the company, Philip Milstein says his cousin gave him only cursory financial reports. "Even the limited documents produced to date," his lawyers argued in a brief filed in Delaware, "confirm Mr. Milstein's initial concerns of potential mismanagement and self-dealing." Howard Milstein kept his law firm on a $10,000-a-month retainer, paid out of $4 million of the sale proceeds reserved for "operating expenses," leading Philip Milstein to question, the brief says, whether Howard and Edward Milstein "used the [company's] resources and personnel to support their failed attempt to purchase certain sports franchises."

In February, a Delaware judge, saying Philip Milstein had been "stonewalled," ordered Howard Milstein to open his books to a forensic audit.

Soon after, according to an American Banker report, Paul Milstein wrote to the shareholders of Emigrant Savings, asserting that Philip Milstein "lacks critical thinking" and should be replaced as head of the bank.

"It is time for a change," he wrote.

Meanwhile, Howard Milstein was moving to close a deal to develop the family's property on 42nd Street. On May 5, 1999, Paul Milstein had written to his brother and the other partners, saying his sons were "the only ones authorized by me to do anything on this project." Howard Milstein began negotiating with prospective tenants, including Ernst & Young, PricewaterhouseCoopers and Disney, and with state officials, whose approvals were needed to develop the 1.1-million-square foot office building he envisioned. He went so far as to have architects Fox & Fowle design the 35-story office tower, with space for an entertainment center (think Disney) on the ground floor.

Representatives of the Milstein's partners at the site, the Weiler-Arnow family, complained loudly to Howard Milstein, especially when they heard the building was being marketed as a "Milstein project." Members of the family have been gradually divesting themselves of their real estate holdings since patriarch Jack Weiler died in 1995. They had little interest in going into business with Howard Milstein.

On April 14, the Weiler-Arnows filed suit in Manhattan, accusing Howard Milstein of "unauthorized acts," which were "antagonistic to the best interests of the partnership and [threatening] to diminish the value of the site."

With the support of Seymour Milstein's side of the family, the Weiler-Arnows asked to be put in charge of selling the land. Howard Milstein is fighting to have an independent party or, better yet, Howard Milstein, in charge of disposing of the property.

Days after the partnership on the Times Square property was dissolved, Paul Milstein and his sons fired back with a suit seeking to remove Philip Milstein as head of Emigrant Savings. In a complaint filed in April in State Supreme Court in Manhattan, they alleged that Philip Milstein had assumed "dictatorial control" of Emigrant Savings, refusing to call a meeting of shareholders, and had cost the bank hundred of millions through mismanagement.

A showdown could come at this year's board of directors meeting, scheduled to begin May 23. At the same time, John Zuccotti, head of Brookfield Financial Properties' New York office, a former deputy mayor and a longtime family adviser, is said to be trying to mediate a larger settlement between the family factions.

Meanwhile, on 42nd Street at 7th Avenue, construction cranes are at work on a new skyscraper, the Reuters building. There are plans for a new New York Times building on 8th Avenue nearby, and a tower atop the Port Authority across 8th Avenue from the Milsteins' parking lot. At night, a red Loews Theater marquee gleams down on the hoods of cars parked there, reflecting what might have been.

At long last, the Milsteins seem to have accepted the likelihood they will never build on the property. "Because the two branches of the Milstein family have become increasingly fractious and mistrust each other," Howard Milstein said in his affidavit, "... an independent third party should be appointed to hold a public auction."

Many believe that Howard Milstein's heart has never been in development, anyway.

"Howard's always wanted to run the bank," said one family associate. "Howard's wanted to move away from real estate, since I think Howard aspires to be a revered civic figure.

"The real estate stuff-it's more rough and tumble."

Fred Drasner, Mr. Zuckerman's business partner who ran the day-to-day operations of the paper as its chief executive and co-publisher, is by all accounts more interested in his share of the Washington Redskins than the grind of publishing the News , U.S. News & World Report and Fast Company .

"This is really part of Mr. Zuckerman's plan that he has talked about before, to become more directly involved with the newspaper and magazines," said Emma Clurman, a spokesman for Mr. Zuckerman's media holdings.

Some News staff members resented Mr. Drasner's habit of referring to the editorial department of the paper as its "cost center," though others said that at least he could be dealt with reasonably.

Mr. Drasner is not entirely out. He's keeping his title. But the days of Mr. Drasner's direct involvement with the paper seem to be over. No longer will you see him playing stickball in News TV commercials, or praising Mark Kriegel's prose in radio ads for the tabloid.

Thanks to distractions like the Redskins and difficulties with another company he owns with Mr. Zuckerman, the prepress printing company Applied Graphics Technologies, Mr. Drasner hasn't been especially involved for a year or so, said Zuckerman sources. In the past year, Ira Ellenthal restructured Mr. Zuckerman's media holdings, separating the sales staffs of U.S. News and Fast Company . That job done, as part of the Jan. 18 shakeup, Mr. Ellenthal was moved off his job as chief executive and co-publisher of U.S. News and Fast Company and moved into Mr. Goodstein's job overseeing ad sales for the Daily News .

That leaves U.S. News and Fast Company essentially as separate operations–leading some to wonder if, as has been reported, one or the other of them are going to be sold.

"He's got a discrete property that's not interlocked on the executive level, so it can be sold," said one Zuckerman observer.

Ms. Clurman denied that U.S. News is for sale. She also said: "There are no changes in Mr. Drasner's status, although Les Goodstein will be working closely with him."

Instead, she emphasized Mr. Zuckerman's increased involvement. "We all feel his presence," she said Jan. 18. "He's coming in this afternoon to talk to us. We're on a first-name basis with him. He's an involved owner."

The new U.S. News publisher, William Holiber, who came over from the same job at The Atlantic Monthly after it was sold by Mr. Zuckerman last year, "is reporting directly to Mort," Ms. Clurman added, as will Fast Company publisher Julian Lowin.

Mr. Drasner and Mr. Zuckerman have worked together for decades, only to grow apart. Some sources at the company said Mr. Zuckerman's bringing in Harold Evans a year and a half ago as vice chairman and editorial director annoyed Mr. Drasner. (Mr. Evans has since left that post.)

In any case, Mr. Zuckerman and Mr. Drasner didn't last long as part-owners of the Washington Redskins. Mr. Zuckerman "sold his interest in the team late last year," said Ms. Clurman. "And that's all part of this. It took up a tremendous amount of his time. But it's not the core of his business. And he's getting back to the core of his business."

Us magazine–soon to be Us Weekly –lost another editor, on Jan. 11, when its style director, Steve Garbarino, walked out.

Three days later, its executive editor Susan Pocharski and its managing editor Rachel Clarke took other jobs–Ms. Pocharski to a News Corporation start-up golf magazine (working title: Maximum Golf ) to be run by veteran magazine editor Michael Caruso, and Ms. Clarke to Allure .

In recent months, Condé Nast has hired away a senior editor (James Ireland Baker) and its photo editor (Jennifer Crandall).

Former employees cited the fact that they didn't want to work for a weekly as their reason for leaving. They also didn't like the continuing construction of the new Us office. And some didn't like the tension they sensed tension between top editor Terry McDonell and his No. 2 editor, Charles Leerhsen.

The magazine is busily out there trying to hire people, and, sources said, have made overtures to Daily News gossip duo George Rush and Joanna Molloy. (The duo had no comment.) Daily News sources said the duo has been a little touchy ever since gossipeur Mitchell Fink was handed a News column of his own.

The March Us is supposedly the magazine's last monthly issue. It is supposed to go weekly beginning March 17. A Wenner Media spokesman said the magazine was still on schedule to go weekly: "Oh, my God, completely!"

After America Online's purchase of Time Warner, Time magazine was the only one of the three newsweeklies to put its own boss–Time Warner chief executive Gerald Levin–on its cover. By doing so, the magazine allowed Mr. Levin to continue the silly semiotics of posing with his tie off next to a tie-wearing Steven Case, the chief executive of AOL.

The picture did not come from the news conference during which Mr. Levin unveiled his with-it no-tie look, but from a separate photo shoot.

U.S. News & World Report and Newsweek put Mr. Case on the cover alone.

Why? Walter Isaacson, the managing editor for Time , didn't return messages by press time.

His rival, Newsweek editor Mark Whitaker, was more forthcoming: "Look, there are a lot of good journalists working at Time Warner. There's no question that it raises, if nothing else, questions of appearance. They've been dealing with this for several years, every time they put a Warner Brothers movie on the cover. But now that you're talking about covering the Internet and the high-tech economy, which in many ways is the economy now, it's harder. It was a week where a lot of us felt very good about working for a family-run journalism company that's really just about the journalism."

Why is it so hard for Time Out New York to hold onto its features editors? They lost another one, Mark Cohen, to Men's Journal , just before Christmas (he'd been there eight months), along with his deputy, Mamie Healey, who went to Oprah Winfrey's new magazine, O .

Before Mr. Baker, there were two other features editors in as many years.

Why?

"It does burn you out," said Mr. Cohen. "It's a Catch-22. Once the department is up and fully staffed, it works well. They have it in the budget to have four people in the department. They've never had people there long enough so that it's not crazy. It's not so much that they're cheap, but inevitably they're down one person."

According to staff members at the magazine, Mr. Cohen, who came from Philadelphia magazine, wasn't too popular around the weekly by being too demanding. "Some of the stuff I wanted to do kind of put a strain on the system," he admitted.

Time Out president and editor in chief Cyndi Stivers said they'd filled the slots now, saving two people from their doomed publications: Carole Braden, late of the late New Woman magazine, was named the new features editor Jan. 17, and Beth Greenfield, late of the Long Island Voice (which was shut after The Village Voice was sold), is her new deputy. "It's very tiresome that people can't seem to find talent anywhere but on our masthead," she said.

Ms. Stivers elevated her executive editor, Joe Angio, to editor in November, apparently freeing her up to work on the announced intention to open Time Out s in Los Angeles or Chicago.

The Jan. 10 edition of this column incorrectly reported that the publisher of Bride's magazine was Deborah Fine. Ms. Fine is actually the former publisher of Bride's and now holds that same title at a Condé Nast Publications stable-mate, Glamour . Nina Lawrence is the current Bride's publisher. It was Ms. Lawrence, and not Ms. Fine, who gave Bride's staff members that small vibrating massager as a gift in reward for their good work. Whether or not that small battery-operated massager should be properly called a "vibrator" or not remains open to debate and is, perhaps, a matter beyond this column's turf.