Talbot County officials weren’t enamored of the town of Trappe’s desire to build a major housing development, so they twice turned down the Eastern Shore hamlet’s efforts to upgrade local sewer and water capacity, in 2004 and 2005. And theoretically, that should have been the end of it. But it wasn’t.

Five years’ worth of state and locals records obtained by The Center for Public Integrity reveal an unprecedented and, at least temporarily, successful campaign by Trappe to go around the normally required county approval to get permission for the upgrades directly from the Maryland Department of the Environment (MDE). While it is unclear if any laws were broken, state officials now say they are looking into the matter. And while the recession has temporarily shelved the development, questions over the legality and propriety of what happened remain unresolved.

The documents obtained by the Center, including e-mails, letters, and memos, show that as early as 2004 MDE officials knew that Trappe did not have the required Talbot County approval to build a wastewater treatment plant for the proposed Trappe East development. And yet, on May 30, 2006, MDE issued the town a construction permit for a sewer plant large enough to handle the waste from the entire proposed development: 2,000 homes and 400 units of commercial space on more than 900 acres along Route 50. The development, according to documents, has the potential to increase the population of Trappe from its current 1,100 residents to more than 7,000 and is expected to take 15 to 20 years to complete, if it ever gets underway.

A surprise to county officials

Talbot County officials said they did not know Trappe had received the MDE permit to construct a 540,000-gallon-a-day sewer plant until earlier this year when the town sought — and later withdrew its application for — a $21 million federal stimulus grant to build the plant and a water tower.

Salvatore J. Cangiano enjoys a reputation as a shrewd land speculator and developer, one who isn’t shy about pressing his ownership rights through litigation — “I’m very competitive” — or, perhaps, just by sheer force of will. And pretty much all those descriptors were on display in the rough-and-tumble struggle that ended with him in possession of Wheatland Farms in Loudoun County, Virginia.

Consider this: As Cangiano prepared to go to settlement on the purchase of the spectacular 549-acre property in spring 2005, according to court records, he was unknowingly recorded in a conversation discussing his concerns about contractual obligations the sellers had made, including an obligation to host weddings at the Wheatland Manor House.

“Hey, anybody gives me a hard time, I go there and lock the buildings. I’ll put everybody off the property. I deal New Jersey style. I’ll just lock everybody out. Nobody is allowed here. Go sue me.”

When the Wheatland deal crumbled and dissolved into litigation, Cangiano was asked about the conversation under oath: “I don’t know what ‘New Jersey style’ means. I really don’t know what that means. I deal honestly, morally, and ethically. That’s how I deal. I hope everybody else would.”

Recently, in an interview, Cangiano laughed when asked about the conversation saying: “That was a levity.” Just two guys joking around, he explained.

However, when Cangiano’s attorney asked Ava Abramowitz, the former co-owner of Wheatland Farms, what she understood “New Jersey style” to mean, she testified: “Ask Jimmy Hoffa what ‘New Jersey style’ means. We were petrified. We did not know how to handle this situation.”

“Are you saying you thought Mr. Cangiano was threatening to kill you or your husband?” Cangiano’s attorney asked.

“No,” she replied. “I am not saying that at all. I’m just saying I don’t even think of New Jersey style. He’s a man who does.”