Chris Pakiz probably knew that his boss, Ed Davidson, had a temper. In April, he learned the hard way just how volatile the man could be.

Pakiz was the chief financial officer for, and possibly a partner in, AMCO (Appraisal Management Co.), which Davidson owns. On April 2, Davidson e-mailed Pakiz to express his displeasure with some financial moves Pakiz had made. The moves aren't spelled out in the e-mail, but seem related to where certain expenses appeared in the company's books. Toward the end of the message, Davidson explains the consequences should this ever happen again.

"If I ever, and I repeat, ever, think that you don't have my back, I will fire you without the courtesy of severance. YOU GET IT????????????

"And don't place the fucking expenses in places where it does not impact you or the other boys or I will personally cut off your head and shit down your neck."

Three days later, Pakiz informed Davidson that he intended to resign. Davidson responded by attacking him.

On April 10, Pakiz described the incident to Officer Thomas Rovniak of the Mayfield Heights PD. He said that Davidson "became enraged and came after me," according to the police report. He showed the cop a blood-spattered white dress shirt he had been wearing during the fight. Pakiz said that Davidson had choked him and had punched him in the face. He said that Davidson had rolled his desk over, telling Pakiz that he would have his legs broken and then have him killed. Pakiz said Davidson only stopped assaulting him after Amco's lawyer, Michael Houston, stepped in to break it up.

Pakiz wanted to press charges. He gave the cop a typed statement that alleged Davidson had threatened to "have my legs broken, eat my children, and whether it was 1 or 5 years from now he would have me killed." Pakiz went on to say that Davidson "is an insane individual and would stop at nothing to ruin me personally."

After the interview, Officer Rovniak called Houston to confirm the story. But Houston refused, saying that any statement he made might violate Davidson's attorney-client privilege.

Amco employee Tom Peterson was a little more helpful. He had overheard the fight and was there when Davidson yelled, "You'll never work in this town again. They'll find you floating face down in the river!"

But that was as far as the investigation would go. The next morning, Davidson's secretary told Detective Joseph Leskovec that she wouldn't comment because she was afraid of losing her job. Other employees wouldn't even return the detective's messages.

Even Pakiz got skittish. First, he stalled when asked to visit the police station to sign the charges. Then, he signed a confidentiality agreement, promising never to discuss the incident again.

Bad press isn't helpful when you fancy yourself a high-profile guy. Davidson is on the board of directors at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum. He owns several companies besides Amco, including a book publishing business, a movie production house and a talent management company. He's also established three nonprofits, including Cleveland Sports Stars Foundation, run by ex-Browns wide receiver Reggie Rucker.

Free Times attempted to talk to Davidson about his charitable work, among other things, but he didn't return calls. Maybe he's modest. Or maybe he has something to hide.

Northeast Ohio has always been the center of operations for 56-year-old Davidson. He attended University School, a prestigious private school in Shaker Heights. And he returned to the Cleveland area after graduating from the Northwestern University School of Law. Occasionally, he guest-lectures at Case's Weatherhead School of Business.

Davidson made his bones by creating a company called Cooperative Resource Services, which relocated employees for giant corporations. Working with a company's human resources department, CRS facilitated employees' moves to new cities, helping them with housing. It's not glamorous work, but it made Davidson a lot of money. In 2002, CRS employed 265 people at a 78,000-square-foot headquarters in Mayfield Heights. That's when Davidson sold the business to a larger, Chicago-based firm.

But he kept an offshoot of CRS that handled property appraisals. It seems that Appraisal Management Company was the crown jewel of CRS anyway. Most appraisal companies are the toadies of money-hungry lenders, sharing in the closing costs of gargantuan loans. Davidson's vision for Amco was to keep it truly independent, an appraisal company that could be trusted by both the prospective buyer and the lender.

He loaded Amco's advisory board with power players. Jack Kemp, Bob Dole's running mate in the 1996 presidential election, is on Amco's board. So is former Secretary of Housing and Urban Development Andrew Cuomo, currently running for Attorney General of New York.

Since the acquisition, Davidson has created a jumble of new companies, stacked on top of each other, under the stable

umbrella of Amco. To name a few:

Aces Oasis: This upstart business installs computers on golf courses that allow golfers to bet on sinking a hole-in-one. It's legal because golfing is considered a game of skill. (The business appears to be modeled on Charitee Hole-in-One, started by Davidson's nephew, Michael Burkons. A source says that Davidson launched Aces Oasis after Burkons turned down his uncle's offer to invest in Charitee Hole-in-One, which donates a portion of the money it raises. Burkons declined to comment.)

Cooperative Entertainment Services: CES is an entertainment warehouse, with subsidiaries of its own. There's CES Publishing, which owns Tsunami Books, a small imprint that published MEG, a novel about a prehistoric shark that terrorizes a beach town. CES also runs Alliance Artists, a talent management company whose clients include Michael Bolton and Styx. In 2005, Davidson produced a movie called The Derby Stallion, starring his fourth wife, 45-year-old soap actress Tanja Walker. It apparently has not been released in theaters or on DVD.

Chris Pakiz wasn't the only Davidson employee to complain of outrageous behavior. In 1997, a female CRS employee filed a sexual harassment lawsuit. Depositions from the suit speak of a tense, hostile atmosphere fostered by Davidson's outbursts. "I was doing my work and I guess Ed Davidson picked up a chair or a TV and threw it at the wall, right where I was sitting," she said in an interview with lawyers. "And it shook my whole desk."

She said Davidson would sometimes yell things like, "If you motherfucking cocksuckers don't get some sales, I'll kill you," and, "I'm going to bite off your tits and sodomize your children."

A male co-worker really did bite her breast during a meeting once, she said. She also alleged that another male employee "thrust his penis into [my] rear end and kissed [my] left shoulder." A CRS investor and friend of Davidson's allegedly invited the woman to his home when his wife wasn't around, presented her with a chain that would loop around her breast, and tried to force himself on her.

But none of it ever went to trial. The woman accepted a settlement and, like Pakiz this year, agreed never to speak of the complaints again.

Presumably none of this has ever reached the ears of the many who know Davidson primarily as a philanthropist.

The Davidson Foundation, managed by the Jewish Community Federation of Cleveland, doles out hundreds of thousands of dollars to local charities. In 2003, Davidson and his family contributed $75,175 to their foundation, which gave away $157,500 to a collection of local non-profits such as Agnon School, Friends of the Cleveland School of the Arts and the Jewish Community Federation.

These figures come from the foundation's 2003 Form 990, the annual financial statement that most nonprofits must file with the IRS. Strangely, 2003 is the last year for which the foundation has filed a 990.

That's also the year that Davidson apparently stopped working on behalf of well-known charitable organizations in favor of ones whose missions and achievements are more mysterious.

For example, Davidson sits on the board of the Cleveland Sports Stars Foundation, which lists the same address as Davidson's Amco office in records on GuideStar.org, a charity-watch Web site. Cleveland Sports Stars hosts an annual black-tie dinner where it inducts new members into the "Cleveland Sports Stars Hall of Fame." On June 17, Bob Golic, Mike Mitchell and Charles Nagy were honored. The proceeds from these affairs were once used to benefit the Cleveland Clinic Foundation, United Way and Concern Foundation, which funds cancer research. But since 2003, the money has gone to one source: Partners for Potential.

PFP apparently has never filed a 990, nor registered with the Ohio Attorney General's office, as required by law. Even Reggie Rucker, the former Browns receiver who has been the public face of Cleveland Sports Stars for a decade, seems to know little about the group his work helps fund.

In an interview before the June 17 event, Rucker said it was projected to generate $50,000 for Partners for Potential. But when pressed for information on the charity, he seemed at a loss. "I don't know how to contact them," he said. "You might try Ceil Cohen."

Cohen is Amco's marketing director. When reached by phone, Cohen seems confused. "Let me have you talk to Reggie Rucker," she says. "He's the best person to talk to. He's a board member." Rucker has not returned further phone calls.

A doctor named Jeffrey Silver is listed as president of Cleveland Sports Stars in its 2003 IRS filing. But a woman who answered the phone at his office said that Silver is no longer involved, refused to take a message and hastily got off the phone. Other calls to Silver's office and home were not returned.

The Partners for Potential Web site is sparse. "PFP Conference Postponed till further notice," it says.

The site explains that the charity's mission is "to provide bright, urban youth with college preparatory education, mentoring, and support services". It claims to fund scholarships at University School and Hathaway Brown. Prospective donors are asked to send money to Amco's address.

Last October, Partners for Potential held a benefit at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The fundraiser was billed as a reunion show for Don Webster's Upbeat television program, a sort of American Bandstand for Cleveland that was popular for a while in the '60s. Michael Stanley and Grand Funk Railroad performed.

When the Rock Hall — on whose board of directors Davidson sits — was asked if Davidson paid rental fees for the facility, Free Times was initially told that he did. Rock Hall spokesman Todd Mesek called back later to say Partners for Potential was not charged the rental fee, but wrote a check for "expenses and staff costs." He would not reveal how much was actually spent on the event.

Word on the street says David Gest was there; Partners for Potential counts the producer and Liza Minelli ex-hubby as a friend and supporter. And if there's anyone who knows how to operate a shady charity, it's David Gest.

An investigation by TheSmokingGun. com revealed that Gest had been hosting benefits in Los Angeles and paying his own private firm to organize the events. In 2000, he skimmed $190,000. There were other strange expenses charged to the nonprofit, such as $13,000 for storage costs. Gest was also advertising that Hollywood studio chief Leo Jaffe was on his charity's board of directors, even though Jaffe had been dead since 1997.

That probably won't make it into Gest's memoir, which Davidson's Tsunami Books promises to publish soon.

"All the money [raised for Partners for Potential] is being spent as it should be," says Michael Houston, Davidson's lawyer and a PFP board member. But he won't provide copies of the organization's 990s. "I'm not interested in helping you with some fishing expedition." He has not returned subsequent calls.

Bill Christ, headmaster at Hathaway Brown, confirms that his school has received about $10,000 from PFP. "So far there are two students who have had full or partial scholarships from Partners for Potential," says Christ. "We would like to expand that program. Ed is a dynamic man."

Davidson's daughter attended Hathaway Brown this year. Christ says the money was not used for her tuition.

So how much money is Partners for Potential taking in? And where does it end up? Only Davidson, and possibly his roughed-up accountant, know for sure.

The last year for which Cleveland Sports Stars has filed a Form 990 is 2003, the year before its donations started benefiting Partners for Potential. It was filed by Chris Pakiz. And it raises some red flags.

Barbara Clemenson is an adjunct instructor at Case's Mandel Center for Nonprofit Organizations and a self-described "990 junkie." She reviewed Cleveland Sports Stars' filing at Free Times' request.

"I'm not saying there's necessarily anything wrong here," says Clemenson. "Still, after seeing the 990 for 2003, I sure wanted to see their statement for 2004."

What Clemenson found interesting was that the charity reported a negative income that year. "I've never seen that before," she says. "Whatever they did, they should never do it again."

And then there's the missing $82,000. The amount is listed as an expense unrelated to fundraising. But it doesn't say who was paid or what it was for. And in previous years, the highest amount doled out for non-fundraising expenses was about $30,000. "That seems extremely high. That's a large amount of money."

Clemenson suggests it could simply be carelessness on the part of the person who filed the 990. "It depends on the competency and ethics of the people involved," she says. "You can make numbers say anything for a certain amount of time.

"It's like a mystery," she adds, "and you end up coming out with more questions than answers."

For example: Why does Cleveland Sports Stars apparently route money through Partners for Potential before donating it? If Davidson, Rucker and Houston are instrumental in both nonprofits, why the extra step?

George Espy, director of the Ohio Grantmakers Forum, says it would be a conflict of interest for one of Davidson's foundations to funnel money through another. It's not illegal, but it's not exactly ethical. "We don't like these things happening," he says. "It casts a pall over our organizations.

"One of the issues that we're concerned about," he adds, "is that the IRS doesn't have enough [in its budget] to monitor the [nonprofit] field like it needs to."

Jack Herrick, president of the Greater Cleveland Sports Hall of Fame — which, unlike Davidson and Rucker's Cleveland Sports Stars, actually has an exhibit, inside the Convention Center — was there the night Davidson announced that he would start up Partners for Potential to help enroll urban youth into private schools. There was a party at Davidson's home in Pepper Pike. Even though Herrick is a little miffed whenever his organization is mistaken for Cleveland Sports Stars, he liked what Davidson had to say. So he wrote a check.

"I've never received a receipt," says Herrick. "Not even a thank-you letter." He doesn't know where his money ended up, but, from what he can tell, it didn't go to University School. Herrick is on the board there, and has heard nothing about Partners for Potential funding scholarships.

After ignoring phone messages for weeks, and after instructing attorney Houston to decline interviews on his behalf, Davidson called Free Times last weekend and left a lengthy voicemail message. Amidst threats of legal action, he gave various reasons for refusing to talk, such as, "Obviously you intend to do a slam job. It really doesn't make any difference because nobody reads your paper anyhow."

He also claimed to be hiding nothing: "I am an open book, my charities are an open book, my businesses are an open book and there's really nothing that need be said to you, especially when you walk around town making the allegations that you've already made. There's a difference, my friend, between asking a question and making a comment that is defamatory. I'd be careful, kiddo, hmm?"

He also made references to a "statement" that would be forthcoming, and Houston called on Monday to ask for the reporter's e-mail address. Free Times delayed production in anticipation of this statement, but nothing was received by press time. Nor did Houston produce the form 990s that he said on Monday he was preparing for review.