Chapter 37: Put Up or Shut Up

April 15, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

On Friday, I interviewed the two finalist candidates for Eric Thiele's open analyst position. The differences between the two were stark.

One was a man around fifty with thirty years of experience in the industry in various roles. He was intelligent, soft-spoken, and extremely businesslike. He had a degree in accounting and had been a CPA for several years before becoming an investment advisor, then an analyst.

The other was a gorgeous, stacked blonde who had graduated the previous year from UofI with a degree in international finance and a minor in economics. She was completely casual, excitable, and had a quick wit, not to mention being extremely intelligent and well-read.

It was an interesting contrast — the staid, experienced father of three versus the young, aggressive, single girl. I leaned towards recommending Cassidy, the young woman, over Steve, the older man. I was reasonably certain she had no idea about the environment, and while as an analyst she'd be a rung above the secretaries, she'd still be viewed as a 'piece of ass' and expected to put out, and that created a potential problem.

The more I thought about it, the environment at Spurgeon was toxic and was not likely to change, barring some kind of federal government intervention or perhaps Spurgeon being arrested for screwing underage girls. But even that might not change the culture, as I suspected Murray Matheson was Noel Spurgeon's designated successor, given Mr. Spurgeon only had one child, and Samantha was seven or eight. And even if she were older, I couldn't imagine Noel Spurgeon turning his firm over to 'a girl', even if that girl was his daughter.

As I continued to contemplate my recommendation, a small voice whispered, 'You have to plan to leave', and I reluctantly agreed. The question really was timing, and I'd need to do a significant amount of work to prepare for that. That work might take years, and in order to be successful, I'd need to have clients and fund assets that would allow it. That meant it would take years, but I needed to start planning immediately.

My thoughts were interrupted when my desk phone rang.

"FX Desk, Kane."

"Mr. Kane, this is Detective Sergeant Thomas from Overland Park, Kansas."

"Good afternoon, and please call me Jonathan."

"OK, Jonathan. I'm calling about the financial review you promised. What do you need?"

"Bank statements, investment statements, the most recent information on your pension fund, and a list of your other assets such as your house, any other property, including collectibles."

"So, the cherry Mickey Mantle rookie baseball card?"

"Yes, because it has significant value. I take it from that you have a large card collection?"

"My dad started it with the cards that came in cigarette packs."

"If I remember correctly, some of those cards, in good condition, are extremely valuable."

"Unfortunately, many of those original cards are in pretty bad shape. The later ones are much better."

"Have you had the collection appraised?"

"No."

"You should do that, mainly for insurance purposes. I'm not licensed to sell insurance, but I think you need a policy rider to insure collectibles."

"I'll ask my agent. I never thought about it."

"Out of curiosity, who runs your department pension fund?"

"I don't know the bank or investment company, but it's managed by the police union. Why?"

"I'll send you a prospectus for my fund, which I'd appreciate you getting into the right hands. Is it a defined contribution or defined benefit fund?"

"You mean, do I get a fixed amount of money every month when I retire? Yes. It works out to roughly 80% of my final pay."

And if it was like many pension funds, it was underfunded and had only average returns, which meant, eventually, it would become unable to meet its obligations. That had happened with some of the larger unions, and those pensions had been paid by the Pension Benefit Guaranty Corporation, a Federally chartered corporation created by the Employee Retirement Income Security Act of 1974.

"You can fax everything to me or make copies and mail it."

"I can fax it from work. Give me the number."

I gave him the number of the confidential fax, which was in the locked cabinet near Anna's desk, and confirmed that I'd need a week from the time I received everything. Once we hung up, I returned to my analysis of the candidates and decided that despite my misgivings, Cassidy was a better choice than Steve.

I picked up the phone and dialed Eric Thiele's number, and his secretary answered, saying he was on a call and would return the call in a few minutes, which he did.

"It's a close thing," I said, "but I'd suggest hiring Cassidy based on her obvious intelligence, energy, and attitude. The only caveat is our recent experience with Paige Jennings, but I don't think Cassidy has the same attitude."

"And her minimal experience?"

"I'm the last person at Spurgeon who could raise that particular objection!"

Mr. Thiele laughed, "Good point! Thanks for your input. I'll make my decision, and Carolyn will let you know about training."

"You're welcome, and per Mr. Matheson, I'm to make myself available when I'm needed."

We ended the call, I spent another hour working, then left the office to pick up Violet for the Hawks game. We arrived at Chicago Stadium, and I used the pass that allowed me into the special parking lot and was pleased to find out that the cost of parking was covered by Spurgeon, not that $10 was a lot to spend, given the tickets were free. Our only costs would be food.

We parked, walked to the correct gate, climbed the steps to the second tier of seats, and found ours, which were just to the left of the center red line.

"WOW!" Violet exclaimed when she took in the rink. "These are great seats!"

"They are!"

Before the game started, we went to the concession stand to get food and drinks, then carried them back to our seats.

"You have to get season tickets of your own!" Violet declared.

"I'd love to, but they're out of my price range for at least a few more years! But it's absolutely something I'll keep in mind."

"The stadium is privately owned, but not by the Hawks, right?"

"Right," I confirmed. "It's owned by the Chicago Stadium Corporation, who built it in 1928. The original plan was that they would build it to bring an NHL team to Chicago, but when they lost out on owning the team, they built the stadium anyway in an attempt to have some control over the Black Hawks, who started playing at the Chicago Coliseum on Wabash in 1926."

"I know that part of the history; I just didn't know about the stadium. Did you know they're named after a military unit — the Blackhawk Division?"

"I thought it was after Black Hawk, the Indian chief."

"Indirectly, because the guy who owned the franchise had been in that military unit in World War I, and it was named for Black Hawk, but he got the idea from his unit. But then he spelled it like the Indian chief's name with a space between 'black' and 'hawk', while the military unit is one word."

"When did the Wirtz family buy the team?" I asked.

"1966, from James Norris, who owned the Red Wings AND the Colosseum. It was bad because there were trades between the teams that amounted to the Red Wings robbing the Hawks. But then the Hawks signed Bobby Hull and Stan Mikita and won the Cup in '61. Then, when Bill Tobin, who was the frontman for Norris, died in 1966, Arthur Wirtz took over. He and his son Bill run the team now, though it's mostly Bill because Arthur is eighty-two."

"Thanks for the franchise history lesson!"

We finished the conversation just in time for the National Anthem, so we set our food down and stood, anticipating the hockey that would follow the patriotic display.

The Hawks got off to a good start, with Al Secord scoring just under six minutes in as he came onto the ice, having just served a minor penalty for hooking. The Hawks got a second goal sixteen minutes in when Steve Larmer scored, making it 2–0. Just under a minute later, after a cross-checking penalty to Will Plett of the North Stars, Doug Crossman scored a powerplay goal to make it 3–0.

"They're looking great!" Violet exclaimed when the horn sounded to end the first period.

"Eight penalties, but tilted towards the Hawks with the way it worked out. They only served three, and some of them overlapped with the North Star penalties."

The second period was even better, with Bob Murray and Tom Lysiak scoring just thirty-five seconds apart to give the Hawks a 5–0 lead just 6:41 into the second period.

"I'd say this one is over!" Violet declared.

"I don't disagree because I don't see how the Hawks could blow a five-goal lead!"

Surprisingly, Minnesota staged something of a rally, scoring at 12:56 and 15:44, to make the score 5–2 when the second period ended.

Violet and I both used the restroom during the intermission, and I bought us each a Coke before we returned to our seats for the third period.

"Uh-oh," Violet groused when the North Stars scored a little over three minutes into the third period to make the score 5–3.

"Yeah, that's not good. Granted, the Hawks still have a two-goal lead, but they can't afford to give up another goal."

Fortunately, the next goal was by Denis Savard, putting the Hawks up 6–3 at 11:56 of the third period. Savard scored again just under five minutes later, making the score 7–3 and ensuring a Hawks win. The Hawks did give up another goal on a late powerplay after Rich Preston had been called for interference. The game ended with the score being 7—4, giving the Hawks a 2–0 lead in the series and all but ensuring they'd advance to the next round.

When the game ended, we got up and joined the throngs, making their way out of the stadium. Fortunately, the special parking lot was close, which meant we got to our car before most fans. That allowed us to get out of the special parking lot without waiting in traffic.

"Is there any way you could get tickets for the next round?" Violet asked as I pulled onto Madison.

"No, and I don't want to push things. I've used up quite a bit of my goodwill and want to keep what I have left in my back pocket. It wouldn't be so bad if the games were televised, but even if they were, hockey on TV isn't very good because it's hard to see the puck, and you have such a narrow view of the ice."

"What about next year?"

"I'll have tickets allocated to me, but there's no guarantee for any specific game or round."

"I noticed you didn't socialize very much," Violet observed. "There were other Spurgeon people in our row and in front of us.

"I'll say something to you which cannot be repeated to anyone — I don't like most of the people I used to call 'Suits', even though I'm technically one of them. And what you don't know is that at least half the men there had dates who are not their wives."

"I thought you didn't care about morals that way."

"I don't. I care about fidelity, which means keeping your word and honoring your commitments. There's a Latin phrase which sums it up — falsus in uno, falsus in omnibus. That means 'false in one, false in all', and I agree because once you're known to be a liar, you can't be trusted."

"Hang on! You lied about Heather being your daughter!"

I nodded, "I did, but I did that to keep a commitment I'd made to Bev. In other words, there was a conflict between 'keep your commitments', 'keep your word', and 'tell the truth'. In that specific case, I felt that the only way to resolve the conflict and ensure a good outcome was to tell that fib. You heard Bev's reaction."

"She was shocked."

"She was, but after she's had time to think it through, what has she said?"

"That it was the only thing you could do to protect her and Heather."

"Exactly. It's exceedingly rare that lying is the ethical thing to do, but sometimes it is. One thing I cannot be is unflinchingly rigorous, with two exceptions."

"Being faithful to your wife is one, I'm sure. What's the other?"

"Strict adherence to SEC, CFTC, and IRS regulations. There can be no deviation there any more than there can be deviation in fidelity to my future wife."

Of course, I thought, if I followed Bianca's suggestion, that wouldn't be a consideration.

"Both of those make sense because even a minor deviation could result in a terrible outcome — divorce in one case and prison in the other."

"Yes, though it's not the threat of punishment that matters; it's my reputation because, in the end, if I tarnish that, I'm finished and not just at work."

Violet was quiet for a moment, "And telling the lie about Heather would actually help your reputation, except perhaps with the police if they found out."

"Actually, I don't think the cops would care very much, but DCFS, or whatever it's called in Kansas, would. From the perspective of the cops, all I did was give Heather to her mom, and the paperwork would ensure that no prosecutor would think about trying that kind of case. DCFS, on the other hand, could take Heather away and force Bev to prove she should get her back."

"I've heard horror stories at work about that. I think DCFS mostly does a good job, but when they make mistakes, they refuse to admit them, and it's a nightmare all around."

"What bugs me about it is that you are, in effect, guilty until proven innocent, which violates both the spirit and the letter of the Constitution. What DCFS is doing would be similar to the police accusing you of murder and being able to send you to prison until you proved you didn't do it."

"It's tough because you do need to take kids away from parents who are abusing them."

"Yes, of course, and I'm OK with that done on an emergency basis, so long as DCFS has to prove it in court quickly or return the kids. I'd equate it with murderers being held without bail until trial. The Constitution requires a speedy trial, and so the government either has to prove it at trial or release the accused person. And that is supposed to happen quickly."

"That actually makes sense."

When we arrived at Violet's house a few minutes later, I double-parked and walked her to the door. She gave me a tighter hug than she had in the past, and I wondered if she'd try to kiss me on the lips. She didn't, and after we said 'goodnight', I walked back to my car, turned off the hazards which I'd set when I'd double-parked and headed home.

"I saw on the news they won!" Bianca said when I walked into the house.

"I was worried in the third period because the Hawks appeared to be falling apart, but they recovered.

"Are you going straight to bed?"

"That was the plan, yes."

We hugged, and I headed up to my room, where I found Keiko in my bed, reading Creative Computing.

"How was the game?" she asked.

"The Hawks won 7–4, but there was a bit of a concern when they gave up two goals at the end of the second and one early in the third. But they recovered their form and basically cruised to victory.

"I'm glad they won!"

"Me, too!" I agreed. "Let me take a quick shower. Some people around us were smoking."

Keiko returned to reading her magazine, and I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth, then got into bed with her.

"Would you be interested in going to Saint Martin in July?" I asked.

"Obviously! What happened with Anna?"

"She decided that because, in her mind, I dropped literally everything to help Bev, I'd do that in the future and couldn't be trusted not to."

"Oh, come on!" Keiko protested. "I agree with Dee and Bianca that's exactly what we'd expect you to do and want you to do for us if we ever needed you."

"That sentiment seems universal, except with Anna. But that's OK because it does allow me to extricate myself from the tricky situation with dating someone from Spurgeon."

"Yes, but because you're you, there was zero chance of not taking the chance to have sex with the gorgeous Swedish girl!"

"Maybe," I allowed. "But I'd rather have sex with the gorgeous Japanese girl!"

"And the gorgeous Japanese girl won't object!"

"Even if I tell her all the girls who live here are invited to Saint Martin?"

Keiko laughed again, "That's so you! And as much as I'd like to have you all to myself, I know that's not in the cards in the short term."

"Are you saying you do want that?"

"I think the best thing to say is that things are on the proper trajectory. Bianca is going to be with a girl, despite her suggestions of a harem; Deanna mostly sees you as a meal ticket and patron; and nobody else is in serious competition. I'm not going to do something foolish to mess things up when they're going in the direction I want them to go. Remember, I voluntarily came to you knowing you were having sex with Ellie and other girls, so I knew exactly what I was signing up for."

"So long as you're happy."

"I am. How many nights in Saint Martin?"

"Seven."

"And by all the girls who live here, you mean Bianca, Deanna, and me? Or does it include the ones who are moving in — CeCi and Juliette?"

"All five of you," I replied. "Obviously, Kristy and Shelly are off limits."

"More than you know for Shelly!"

"Huh?"

"Perry asked her to marry him this evening, and she said 'yes'."

"WHOA!" I exclaimed.

"She said that once she decided to move in with him, it was a foregone conclusion, so she hinted at it, he took the hint, bought a small diamond, and asked her."

"Talk about a whirlwind romance!"

"No kidding! When's the wedding?"

"July 23rd is what she said. He's nominally Lutheran, so they'll marry in his church to avoid the complications of a Catholic marriage."

"I'm just flabbergasted," I replied. "But if she's happy, I'm happy. The only downside is I won't be able to go to the Police concert that day at Comiskey."