Chapter 6: A Shared Secret

February 2, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

My happiness about not hearing from law enforcement lasted only until I arrived home and saw a Cook County Sheriff's cruiser and a black Ford sedan with US Government plates parked in front of the house. I drove past, around into the alley, parked the car in the garage, then went into the house where a uniformed Sheriff's Deputy was waiting, along with two men in suits who I guessed were FBI agents.

"Mr. Jonathan Kane?" the Deputy asked.

"Yes, Deputy, I'm Jonathan Kane."

"Deputy Paul Lorenz; and these men are FBI Agents Johnson and Feldman of the Chicago Field Office."

"You're here about Beverly Newton," I said.

"Yes," one of the FBI agents said. "We understand you know her whereabouts."

"I do, and before you ask any further questions, I need to say that she's over eighteen, does not want to have any contact with her parents, and swore me to complete secrecy."

"Are you refusing to give us the information?" the other agent asked.

"No, but I would like you to acknowledge what I just said."

"Listen, kid, don't play games," the first agent said.

"I'm not playing games," I replied. "I simply want you to acknowledge what I told you."

"Where is she?"

"Agent..."

"Feldman."

"Agent Feldman," I said, "I will coöperate if you'll simply acknowledge that Bev is over eighteen and does not want to have any contact with her parents. She isn't 'missing', and she and Heather are perfectly safe."

"Agent," Deputy Lorenz said, "cut the kid some slack. He said he'd coöperate if you acknowledged what he told you. He didn't ask you to make any promises."

"We've heard what you said," Agent Johnson said, putting his hand on his partner's arm.

"Bev and Heather are in St. Louis," I said. "She drove there in her own car, and there is absolutely no foul play here at all. She has sufficient money for her expenses and has a place to stay and has a job lined up."

"We're going to need the address, if you have it."

"I do," I said.

I took my address book from my satchel and read the address aloud, with Deputy Lorenz and Agent Johnson writing it down.

"House?" Agent Johnson asked.

"Yes."

"Whose?"

"James McGill, a pilot for TWA. He's married, though I don't know his wife's name. They have a daughter named Tammy who's eighteen, and Bev was friends with her before the McGills moved to St. Louis about two years ago."

"Why go there?" Agent Johnson asked.

"You'll have to ask Bev because she only shared where she was going, not any discussion she had with them."

"Do you know why she ran away?"

"She's not a runaway," I replied. "She's eighteen and chose to move to Missouri, and last I checked, that's not illegal."

Nor was it any of the government's business, but saying THAT might land me in hot water with the agents.

"Sorry, do you know why she moved?"

"As I said, to get away from her parents. There was a conflict over a child she had out of wedlock, and she decided it was in her best interest to move to St. Louis. I asked her to come here, but she refused."

"Are you the baby's father?"

"No. Bev and I were involved, but the baby was conceived several months after I moved to Chicago, and I hadn't seen Bev from the time I moved until after she was pregnant. What are you going to do?"

"Call our St. Louis Field Office and ask them to check on her. If what you've said is true, they'll close the case. I can't speak for what the AIC there might do, but normally, in cases such as this, the person who filed the missing person report is told the individual is safe and doesn't want to be contacted."

"AIC?" I asked.

"Agent In Charge. Basically, the Agent responsible for running the office. Do you have a card? That way, we can call you if we have further questions."

I took one of my business cards from my satchel and handed it to him.

"Thank you, Mr. Kane," Agent Johnson said.

"You're welcome."

I showed the three of them out of the house, then immediately went upstairs. I quickly changed out of my suit, then dialed the McGill's house. Mrs. McGill answered, and I asked to speak to Bev. She came to the phone a few seconds later.

"Jonny?"

"The FBI and a Cook County Sheriff's Deputy were just here," I said. "You'll probably hear from an agent in St. Louis."

"You promised not to tell!" Bev protested.

"And had I not, I'd have been arrested and held overnight and taken to see a judge who would order me to answer. I checked with my attorney, and there was literally no way I could not give them the McGills' address. The FBI Agent said the usual practice is for them to talk to you to make sure you're OK, then close the case and not tell your parents anything other than that you're safe."

"Arrest you? What about the right to remain silent?"

"That only applies if the government is investigating you for a crime. In this case, I had no choice but to answer. I'm sorry."

Bev sighed deeply, "It's OK."

"Hopefully, what the agent here said is true, and someone from the FBI office in St. Louis will come by, see that you're OK, and simply close the case."

"I hope so."

"I am sorry, Bev."

"I know. Dinner is almost ready, so I need to go. I'll call you when the check arrives."

"And if you need anything."

"And if I need anything," she said reluctantly.

We said 'goodbye', I hung up, then went downstairs for dinner.

"You called Bev?" Bianca asked when I walked into the kitchen.

"Of course. I had to let her know I told the cops where she was. She's not happy."

"You didn't have a choice."

"Obviously, but that doesn't make her any less unhappy."

We had dinner, and later that evening, as planned, Ellie arrived, once again driven to the house by her Japanese-American friend Keiko.

February 3, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Still OK to show up tonight?" Ellie asked as we showered on Thursday morning.

"Yes. Just remember I have class, so I won't be home until around 9:30pm."

"I remember!"

After our shower and breakfast, we left the house. I dropped Ellie at Loyola, then headed to the Hancock Center. As usual, I was the first in the office, at least of those who worked during the day, as Rich, the overnight trader, was close to the end of his shift. I started a fresh pot of coffee, then stopped by Rich's desk.

"Morning," I said. "Anything overnight?"

"Some fluctuation between JPY and other currencies because of high volume, but otherwise, fairly quiet. The gold and silver spreads widened further."

"That's due for a big correction."

"Absolutely. Check the numbers, but I think Murray should extend our short."

"How big was the JPY move?"

"In the end, it only moved a few cents against the dollar, but it was volatile all day."

"OK. I'll check the overnight charts."

I went to my desk, turned on all the equipment, and began reviewing the news from overnight. The state of the world was basically unchanged from Wednesday, with Lebanon, Angola, Nicaragua, and Afghanistan being the main areas of conflict. As Rich had said, the Japanese yen — JPY — had been volatile with high volume but had settled only a few pennies lower than it had opened in overnight trading in Tokyo.

I also reviewed the precious metals spreads and wrote a recommendation that we extend our short position as a major correction was built into the spread, with my rough estimate being around the end of February. I also saw some moves in London against the Bolivar, which was confirmation of my analysis that it was likely to be devalued, though the timing was in question.

I wrote my report and had it on Mr. Matheson's desk when he arrived, then reviewed the reports Paige and Tony had written. I didn't see anything that warranted a move with the money I was managing, though my gains were slightly behind my goals. That would change if the major plays I'd made so far paid off or if the stocks performed the way Tony expected them to.

The one thing which I couldn't predict was significant moves by the Federal Reserve. Paul Volcker was still trying to manage the 'stagflation' that Reagan had inherited from Carter, and a change in interest rates could have a significant impact on the market. Generally, the moves were telegraphed in advance, but not always. That said, I could watch the economic reports and have a good idea if a larger-than-usual move might be made at a future meeting.

I spent the day, as I usually did, reading news, checking charts, and watching the market, all with an eye toward gaining an edge for Spurgeon Capital over other investment firms. Bev called just after 3:00pm to say that the check had arrived and that she'd used it to open a new bank account in St. Louis.

"Will you do me another favor?" Bev asked.

"Name it," I said.

"I'll write you a check to withdraw the money that's in my bank account in Ohio, and then you write me a check I can deposit here."

"Why go through all of that?"

"Because my parents will get the bank statement and canceled checks and would see where a check was deposited."

"I can do that," I said. "What about your mail?"

"Really, the only thing that would come to the house is my bank statement, and I won't need it because you know I keep my checkbook updated to the penny."

"OK. Did you hear from the FBI?"

"Yes. They came to the house just before lunch. The two agents asked a bunch of questions but seemed satisfied that I was safe and not here against my will. They'll report that back to the FBI in Ohio, who will notify the Sheriff, who will notify my parents. Supposedly, they won't say where I am."

"You know I disagree with your decision not to tell them, right?"

"Yes, but this is what I need to do, and you promised not to tell them."

"I didn't say I was going to violate my promise to you about that," I said. "Just that I believe you should at least tell them where you are."

"My dad would drive here and try to make me go home, and I don't want to deal with it."

"And Glen?"

"No way! You are the only one who knows besides me. I am not telling anyone else, and especially not him!"

"Bev, he has to suspect. I mean, it's not like he'll have forgotten you guys went to bed together."

"But he won't know for sure, and I want to leave it that way."

I wondered about that. I had told my mom and Mr. Kingman what Heather's blood type was, and if Mom mentioned it to Glen and it matched his blood type, which I believed it would, I was positive he'd be sure that Heather was his.

"It's your decision, obviously, but I don't agree with you on that, either."

"I know, Jonny. It's just ... I need time and space. You promised."

"I did," I replied. "And you promised to call me occasionally, and that doesn't mean once a year! I want to hear from you, Bev. You know how much I care for you."

"I know," she sighed. "And as weird as it sounds, that's part of the problem."

"How so?" I asked.

"Because I'm afraid you feel obligated to help me. And that you might do something foolish because of that feeling."

"Have you ever known me to be emotional or act illogically?"

"No, but logic isn't always the answer, Jonny."

"It's served me pretty well so far," I replied. "I want to help you because I care for you, but I'm not acting irrationally."

"It's not helping that worries me. I'm afraid you see me through the eyes of a kid raised by a single mom who never knew his dad."

"Of course I do! How could I do anything else? It's who I am and who I'll always be. But that doesn't mean I'll do something irrational. I thought about all the possible outcomes and all the possible options, and the one I had landed on was inviting you for an extended visit, with the default being that you'd go home and go back to UC.

"It would have been irrational to ask you to move in with me at this point, not because of me, or because of you, or because of Heather, but because of us — the three of us. I don't know what the future looks like, but I do know enough to know that asking you to move in with me, or anything that looks permanent, would be a mistake. So, no, you don't have to worry about me doing something foolish. The only question now is what you want."

"I don't know," Bev sighed. "That's why I said I need time."

"And I will reluctantly agree, but you agreed to keep in touch."

"I promise," Bev said firmly. "I'll mail the check today."

"OK. I'll put a check in the mail the day after I receive it."

"Thanks."

We said 'goodbye', and I hung up and went back to reviewing the currency and precious metals markets. At the end of the day, I left the office and drove to Violet's house for dinner. After class, I headed home, and Ellie arrived about ten minutes later.

February 4, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

Friday was a normal day at Spurgeon, and Kristy and Miranda met Jack and me in the lobby of the Hancock Center just after 5:00pm.

"It's so silly you have to take separate elevators!" Miranda declared.

"They took away my key to the freight elevator," I replied. "The biggest downside is I park near the loading dock and could take the freight elevator all the way to the garage, whereas now I have to change elevators or take the stairs. Anyway, did you two decide where we're going?"

"Connie's for dinner, then we want to see Airplane II," Kristy said. "Is that OK?"

"Works for me," I replied. "Jack?"

"I'm good with that," he replied.

We headed to the garage to get my car, then drove to Connie's on 25th Street, where we had to wait about twenty minutes for a table, but that wasn't much of a problem as we could put our pizza order in before we sat down, and it took close to forty minutes for the deep-dish pizza to bake.

The pizza was awesome as always, the movie was hilarious, and the time with my friends was enjoyable. When we left the theatre on North Michigan Avenue, Jack and Kristy headed home, and I asked Miranda if she wanted ice cream, which, to no surprise, she did.

"Can I come home with you?" Miranda asked as we walked towards Oberweis.

"If you want, yes," I replied. "I make no assumptions."

"It's safe to assume I want to spend the night with you! It turns out that sinners DO have much more fun!"

I chuckled, "I'd agree, though I don't believe in sin, at least not the way I suspect you were taught. And out of curiosity, do you think it was sinful?"

"My priest certainly does," Miranda replied.

"His opinion is, frankly, irrelevant, at least to me. What do you think?"

"Well, I went on the Pill, then lost my virginity with an audience, so I think that's pretty clear!"

"Do you go to church?"

"Not regularly. I went at Christmas with my parents, and I'll go at Easter, but I'm not serious about it. If I was serious, I'd never have done what we did and what we're going to do after we have our ice cream. Were you concerned?"

"No. I wouldn't have brought it up if you hadn't referenced the Billy Joel song."

"Will you ask me out again?"

"Yes, though probably not for a month or so."

"That's cool. You know I'm just interested in having some fun, which I know is what you want, too. There's no way I'm even thinking about getting married before I graduate."

"You just thought about it," I teased.

"OK, Mr. Pedantic, no way I'm seriously considering it until after graduation!"

"I find accuracy and precision to be important," I replied.

"You accurately knew precisely how to get me off! I hope you don't need too much sleep tonight!"

"I'll manage!"

"Great!"

February 5, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

"Ask me out again," Miranda requested when we got out of bed. "Just let me know by the Tuesday before the Friday so I don't make plans."

"It'll be a few weeks," I replied. "But I will ask you out again."

"Cool! And if you have any baseball games, invite me! And I can bring a friend!"

"I don't schedule those," I replied. "That was basically Ellie's deal."

"I'll talk to her! Want to do that thing with my boobs before we shower?"

"Indeed I do!"

About thirty minutes later, after a fun tit fuck and a warm shower, Miranda and I went downstairs for breakfast. We had just finished eating when the phone rang, and I got up to answer it.

"Kane," I said.

"Jonathan, it's Jim Newton."

"Good morning. What can I do for you?"

"Where is she?"

"I promised her I wouldn't tell anyone."

"You obviously told the FBI."

"I had no choice, according to my attorney. They know where she is. Did you ask them?"

"They said she's over eighteen. Just tell me, please."

"I gave Bev my word, and I won't go back on that. I've encouraged her to talk to you or at least tell you where she is, but I can't make her."

"Jonathan, I'm trying to be reasonable," Mr. Newton said, clearly frustrated.

"And I need to keep my word to Bev. All I can do is encourage her to get in touch with you."

"Hang on a sec," he said, exasperated. "Julie wants to speak to you."

A few seconds later, Bev's mom was on the line.

"Jonathan, please! I'm worried about Bev and Heather. I can't sleep, not knowing where they are!"

She sounded frantic, but I really couldn't violate my promise to Bev, and I knew Bev was safe.

"All I can say is the same thing I said to your husband — Bev and Heather are safe, and she made me promise not to tell where she is. I've always kept my word to her, and I have to keep it now."