And anyway, he'll be back. Not at the secretary of state's office--he swears he's done with that--but there's other work to be done, work that cries out for the subtle-as-a-sledgehammer Riddle touch. Work with the Shoelses, and on such crusades as the unpaid task he took on last year for Suzanne Sigona, head of the Denver County Probation Department who'd been named "World's Worst Boss" by the National Enquirer. Sigona's still employed by the city; one by one her critics have been dropped from Denver's payroll. "She simply demanded accountability," Riddle says.
Not unlike the audit committee.
But when the auditor asked Buckley to supply him with Riddle's credentials, as well as any work product he'd completed for her office, she provided just a sketchy outline of his background and duties. "Without such documentation," Barba told the committee, "there is no evidence that the State has received sufficient value for the money spent on this contract."
Or if it got any value at all.
Owens has promised to name Buckley's successor this week. If he's smart, he'll get down on his knees and beg former Secretary of State Natalie Meyer, whose efficiency and early embrace of the computer earned the office praise around the country, to take back her old job. The secretary of state's office can use some tender, loving care--it's been battered from both within and without.
But Sam Riddle keeps on swinging. "I'm not Richard Nixon," he says. "I'll be back to kick around.