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In the tangled and insular world of Little Italy, where trivial spats can erupt into bitter battles that require the police and courts to resolve, it should come as no surprise that a meeting about crime can lead to fears about hidden agendas and misplaced loyalties.

Giovanna Blatterman, a community leader, political gadfly and longtime rabble-rouser, organized Tuesday night's Community Crime Summit that attracted a standing-room-only crowd to the basement hall of St. Leo's Church and a bevy of city officials, including a councilman, the health commissioner, a zoning supervisor, the liquor board chairman and a police commander.

Is there a "spiraling crime wave" driven in part by three bars and restaurants, as Blatterman wrote in her call to action in a community newsletter, or was the meeting a ploy for the activist and cafe proprietor to get city officials to investigate her competition?

Blatterman launched the meeting, saying: "We've come to the end of the road as far as the Little Italy we all know and love." In the newsletter, she had recounted muggings, break-ins, robberies and drug dealing. She wrote that last week, a man armed with a gun and a knife broke into her house and slashed her neighbor's face when he rushed to help. Deputy Maj. William Davis confirmed the incident, but he said there was no indication the intruder had a gun.

Two weeks ago, something else happened, and Blatterman struggled to say the words: "We had a shooting."

Blatterman complained of apathy and about restaurants flouting the rules and going unchecked by the city. She warned, "I'm not afraid to challenge those who are causing trouble."

She pointed her finger at Farhad Jafari, the owner of Mo's Fisherman's Wharf, who stood with his back against a wall and a scowl on his face. Blatterman used harsh words to describe his restaurant, adding, "What you have done to our community is disgusting."

Blatterman said he sold alcohol in Styrofoam "to go" cups that encouraged patrons to take their drinks to the sidewalks. City officials said there is nothing illegal about selling alcohol in any type of cup but that they shouldn't be carried outside. Jafari denied that he allows patrons to take out open containers.

But Blatterman also was talking about the shooting two weeks ago in which a man was wounded in the foot on Eastern Avenue and ran into Little Italy's residential neighborhood. The newsletter said the victim had been inside three establishments that Blatterman called the most troublesome, including Mo's.

Davis said after the meeting that the victim had frequented three businesses, but he wouldn't be more specific. Jafari said the shooting had nothing to do with his restaurant.

Blatterman and her daughter run Cafe Gia on High Street, a few doors from Eastern Avenue, across the street from Mo's. Jafari refrained from speaking out, but said later that the meeting was packed with Blatterman supporters and that others with opposing views had boycotted. "Most of the neighbors aren't here," Jafari said after the meeting.

He countered Blatterman's accusations by contending that the meeting was nothing more than a manufactured venue for her to air grievances about her competitor's clientele in front of city officials.

Blatterman has been at the center of neighborhood disputes for as long as anyone can remember, including an eight-year court battle with a neighborhood nemesis whom a jury ruled she tormented by filing false legal and criminal complaints.

If there's an issue in Little Italy, chances are Blatterman is somehow involved. She is quoted in articles on topics as diverse as political corruption, restaurant reviews, disputes over parking garages and profiles of House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, who grew up on Albemarle Street.

Many complaints aired Tuesday night were legitimate. A hookah bar, sandwiched between two rowhouses with a 98-year-old woman living on one side and an 86-year-old woman living on the other, somehow managed to open without an occupancy permit, though the owner assured skeptical residents that he would obtain the necessary documents and, despite the advertisement on his door, he does not have nor does he plan to have belly dancers.

Police promised extra patrols and extra attention to the neighborhood, and city officials took notes and promised action. They paid appropriate and repeated homage to the importance of Little Italy as a cultural and ethnic icon for Baltimore.

After two hours, Davis, the police commander, found a volunteer to lead a community crime walk, and the old men of Little Italy learned what a hookah bar was and pondered its place in an Old World community where the dominant sport is boccie. And Blatterman implored everyone to band together and have coffee.

She invited them to Cafe Gia.