7-Up vs. Coke, Part 2: From dot-com darling to disaster, the spectacular flameout of Andrew Gladney. Heir to a fortune, Andrew Gladney went from John Burroughs to Yale and came home to found Savvis Inc. Then he squandered it all.

"I don't care how much money it costs me," says the chef. "If I settle, my name is worth nothing."

Claus Schmitz doesn't remember when it first happened. Water, sewer, electricity — he doesn't recall which outage was threatened first, either. "From day one," he says, workmen were tromping into Mosaic in the middle of the lunch hour to cut off one utility or another.

Time and time again, Schmitz says, he pulled out his checkbook or opened the till to pay the delinquent charges, then went in search of Gladney. "In hindsight...," he says, then trails off. "Well, my lawyers tell me I can't do that to myself."

Joel Crater had withdrawn from Downtown North owing to what he perceived to be Gladney's commingling of personal and company funds, according to testimony he gave in court last year. (Crater did not respond to repeated requests for comment for this story.) Subsequently a friend of Gladney named Reuben Peters obtained shares in Downtown North. (Peters, who lives in Telluride, Colorado, recently won 500,000 Euros in a European Poker Tour event; he did not return telephone calls seeking comment.) But for all practical purposes, Gladney was flying solo as landlord.

Joe Taylor and Ken Keiser, Gladney's only other tenants, set forth a laundry list of complaints: The elevators reeked of chemicals and inspections were many years outdated; one shaft was entirely nonfunctional. The air conditioning gave out regularly during the summer; the heat rarely worked in the winter. Last year the fire alarms repeatedly malfunctioned.

Above Mosaic, the building looks orphaned, with unhinged windows, filthy carpets and holes in the floors. On a recent winter day, the temperature on the abandoned fifth floor felt glacial.

The tenants say they held out in hopes of an ever-rumored sale or foreclosure. They say they sparred with Gladney frequently, at times nearly to the point of physical violence.

But over time, they say, their landlord became increasingly inaccessible, to the point where the first of the month was the only time they could count on seeing Gladney. "He and [his wife] would be at our door at 9 a.m. for the [rent] check," recalls Taylor, "and then you'd literally see them running down the street towards the bank with it flopping in one of their hands."

On the home front, Gladney's competence as a parent was again being called into question. Jeanie Haines and Cindy Lee separately sought orders of protection for their sons just after Christmas in 2005, alleging that while the children were in his care, Gladney had secluded himself in a room for several days and consumed crack cocaine. Court papers indicate that the women had learned of the incident from a baby sitter who spoke to both mothers after Haines' son took a fall at Gladney's house and had to be treated at a pediatric clinic. "[Gladney] appears skeletal, frail, bruised and unintelligible when he speaks," wrote Cindy Lee in her protection request.

At a January 2006 hearing in Haines' case, St. Louis County Circuit Court Associate Judge Dennis Smith voiced his suspicion that Gladney had come to court while under the influence. The judge proceeded to cut off all visitation rights until further notice. Seven months later, on July 19, 2006, Haines was granted full custody. Two months earlier, Gladney had been stripped of custody rights to his elder son.

In December 2006, Ken Keiser's company, PRG Properties, filed suit, seeking access to Downtown North Development's books and compensation for damages. Last summer, after one of the Taylor & Taylor attorneys got stuck in the "working" elevator and had to climb half a flight through the shaft, Joe Taylor found office space elsewhere. His firm, too, filed suit against Downtown North.

Claus Schmitz quit paying Gladney rent in January 2007, opting to escrow payments via his attorneys. A battle of wills ensued, with Gladney demanding his money and Schmitz insisting that Gladney indemnify him against damages in the federal EEOC litigation. The chef says Gladney made harassing phone calls to his home, to his bookkeeper and to other Mosaic employees and told a maintenance contractor he was going to kill Schmitz if he didn't get his rent.

Schmitz attempted détente on several occasions. At one point last summer, the chef says, he agreed to sign a check made out to Gladney for $5,000 if Gladney signed an indemnification pact.

Gladney had instructed Schmitz to bring everything by his townhouse, but no one answered the door when he arrived. He put the check in the mailbox along with paperwork for Gladney to sign. The check was cashed, Schmitz says, but Gladney never signed the agreement. Schmitz went back to escrowing.

Ultimately, Downtown North and Mosaic sued one other in St. Louis Circuit Court.

On December 7 Judge John Garvey heard arguments in the non-jury proceeding. (Gladney had failed to attend the initial trial date of November 2.) Garvey issued a ruling one month later.

Gladney's management of the building, the judge wrote, was "abysmal," the evidence of sexual harassment on his part "uncontroverted." Garvey also noted Gladney's "overall bizarre behavior" on the stand, terming it "sometimes evasive, other times rambling, but most of the time incoherent." Wrote Garvey: "Many times during the trial, the Court had to admonish Gladney from testifying too fast. His demeanor on the witness stand was disturbing."