The real fireworks, however, were still to come.

An agitated Hayes arose and promised to present evidence at a future meeting to show that the removal of the City Manager was being led by a "a man who--as I see it--has other than the best interests of the City of Cambridge at heart." He did not specify the man, but Crane commented after the meeting, "I have a slight suspicion that he was fingering me."

The next meeting--Jan. 11--the Council met at another late night session called by the firing five to wrap up the dismissal of the City Manager by defeating a motion to reconsider the action.

The Council debate which followed was heated and often personal. Goldberg quizzed the firing five as to whether they would abide by the pledge for the nationwide search. Wheeler denounced the special meetings as a "mockery" and said that the dismissal of DeGuglielmo was for "purely political reasons."

But it was Hayes who took the lead in the attack on the majority five. In a 45 minute speech, he repeatedly charged the Curry administration with manipulating bids on City contracts, bending zoning ordinances, and selling City land at low rates to friends of the administration. But, Hayes said, Curry was "not the man we were looking for." He referred to "another man . . . a virtual dictator that has demonstrated he is coming back to power."

Hayes charged the un-named councillor with "fronting" for the Wasserman Development Corp. Only later did he admit that he was referring to Crane.

The firing five then counter-attacked. Crane countered that "This talk has gone on over the years . . . you can't win in this business." Saying that he did not intend to belabor the point, but felt that "a few things should be straightened out," he defended his friendship with Wasserman as a "purely personal attachment" which predated his entrance into Cambridge politics. Crane recalled how his father--a Cambridge patrolman--had carried the Wasserman's wine (during prohibition) when the Wasserman family moved to a new home.

After Crane spoke, the other members of the majority five defended the dismissal of DeGuglielmo. Mahoney spoke of his desire for professionalism; Danehy thought the move would bring "harmony" to the City; Ackermann accused the DeGuglielmo administration of delaying school construction.

Tight Spot

Of the five, Vellucci was in the tightest spot. He was voting to fire a fellow Italian-American, in a city where ethnic ties can still swing a lot of votes. Accordingly, he returned to a tried and true theme: "Save DeGug, save DeGug--how can I save DeGug when I'm trying to save a hospital for the mothers of Cambridge," he roared, recounting how he had tried to have the City's maternity ward moved to the seventh floor of the new City hospital which, he said, DeGuglielmo let Harvard have for "experiments on dogs,...cats...and monkeys."

As usual, the oratory that evening changed nothing. The majority five held together, confirming DeGuglielmo's dismissal.

Another, and possibly final round, was fought last Monday as the two council factions clashed over the legality of the removal motion. DeGuglielmo's supporters then reiterated their opposition to an interim manager, but to no avail. The majority five, plus Sullivan, voted to appoint Public Works Commissioner Ralph J. Dunphy to the post.

The interregnum of the next few months is not likely to be easy for the City. In a real sense, the manager's office is the center of the City administration; the interim manager, who is not in the best of health, may have a difficult time preparing the budget, making any needed appointments, and doing the thousand and one lesser tasks required to run a City of 100,000.

The alternative--allowing DeGuglielmo to ramain as an interim manager--was hardly more feasible. As a "lame duck" lacking the confidence of the council majority, he would have had to sound them out on any decision other than the most routine. DeGuglielmo probably knew this, and it is unlikely that he really expected to remain as interim manager. The bloc opposing him had waited two years to dismiss him; they had the votes, and, as one councillor put it, "the ball game was over."

Nor is the search for a new, "professional" manager likely to be easy. To begin with, the Council will almost certainly have to raise--perhaps even double--the $20,000 salary of the manager in order to bring a qualified professional to a City with as many problems as Cambridge. In addition, a city which has fired two managers in as many years will not likely attract a professional if he places a high value on job security.

Even if a man can be found for the job, he might not necessarily have the full support of the coalition which removed DeGuglielmo. At the last minute, the mercurial Vellucci might balk at letting an "outsider" come in to run the City. The new manager will face the task of working with men whom DeGuglielmo termed "live, red-blooded (and often factious) politicians."

Each of the past two City Managers solved this problem in his own way. Most observers considered Crane and Curry as one political unit. DeGuglielmo--a former councillor--made most of the major decisions of his administration; his council supporters merely ratified them. What the Council-Manager relationship will be under the next administration is still an open question.

No one would like to bet on it, but there is even an outside chance that City politics might grow a little quieter in the near future. The wranglings of the past two years have taken a toll; more than one long-term friendship has been strained--or snapped. In his inaugural address, Mayor Sullivan said he hoped that his administration would be one of "harmony." Though only a word, it is a word heard more frequently around City Hall these days.