Chapter 29: Reconsidering a Relationship

January 1, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

“Did it work?” Jack asked when I arrived home.

“If you mean did I achieve my goal of peace and quiet without feeling smothered, then yes, it did.”

“This probably sounds like a broken record, but all of us care about you.”

“I know, and I really do appreciate that, but in the same way Keiko occasionally sent me away from the hospital, I need to send everyone away. The thing is, I can’t do that because you all live here, and I want you to continue to live here. That meant, for today, I simply had to escape, and Violet’s house was the perfect refuge because I could sit alone in her front room and read.”

“We could probably move out sooner,” Jack offered.

I shook my head, “That’s not my point at all. I just need to spend some time by myself because, on Tuesday, I have to hit the ground running. One of the last things Keiko said to me was not to let mourning overwhelm me and change who I am. She also asked me to promise to be the successful man she knew me to be. So, as sad as I am, I won’t disappoint her, even if the odds are she’ll have no way of knowing.”

“That sounds as if you think there’s some possibility.”

“What did I teach you about the difference between possible and probable?”

“Just because something is possible doesn’t mean it’s probable or that it will ever occur. It’s possible to win the lottery, but not probable.”

“Exactly. Is it possible that existence continues somehow? Yes. But I haven’t seen any evidence, and those who assert it as a certainty haven’t provided a shred. At best, it’s a subtle shift to allow for the possibility Anala is right, but I’m not changing anything I do based on it.”

“That makes sense. While you were out, your mom called. She asked for you to call. You also had calls from Jeri and Shelly, as well as Tony from Spurgeon. Tony said there’s no need to call unless you don’t plan to be in on Tuesday. The others asked for you to call them back.”

“Thanks. I’m going up to my room to call my mom. I’ll come back down after, so please head off the posse if they start looking for me.”

“The posse or the pussy?” Jack smirked.

I laughed, “Same thing in this house, present company excepted.”

“It’s good to see you laugh.”

“Just give me a few days, OK?”

“Yes.”

I went upstairs to my room, changed into sweats, then called my mom.

“I just wanted to check on you,” she said.

‘You and half the planet’, I wanted to say, but I couldn’t say that to my mom.

“I understand. I was at Violet’s so I could have some time to myself.”

“Be careful, Jonathan.”

“Of all the people on the planet of whom I might need to be careful, Violet is not one of them. She gave me space, and her history is such that there is basically no chance we’ll ever be anything but close friends. Not to mention, I am absolutely not in a state of mind to go on a date, let alone do what you’re implying.”

“Our family behavior in that regard is not always rational, as we both well know!”

“Three for three on out-of-wedlock pregnancies?” I asked. “Your father will lose his mind when he finds out about Bianca. Not that I’m going to tell him, but at some point, something will be said, likely by Aunt Wendy.”

“True. Anyway, I won’t keep you. You know you’re welcome here if you need to get away.”

“I think staying three hundred miles away from Jim Newton is wise.”

“Julie told me they know where she is.”

“Chicago,” I replied.

“She implied they know an address.”

“I suppose it’s possible at this point. I take it from what you said they don’t know Glen is here?”

“I certainly haven’t told them, and I would expect Julie to say something if they knew that was the case.”

“Probably. I’ll call next weekend, OK?”

“Or if you need anything.”

“Or if I need anything,” I agreed.

We said ‘goodbye’, and I contemplated if I should call Jeri or Shelly, and decided to call Shelly. We had a brief conversation, and she invited me to join her and Perry for dinner. I promised I would, but that it would need to be in a few weeks. She didn’t push back, which I appreciated, and we promised to keep in touch, then ended the call.

I debated calling Jeri, but, in the end, I was managing her money, and she had the right to know I was thinking clearly and in a proper frame of mind to continue that management. Karl answered the phone and let Jeri know I was calling.

“Hi,” Jeri said.

“Hi,” I replied. “I’ll be ready to go back to work on Tuesday. I promise your money is in good hands.”

“OK, I might be a mercenary bitch at times, but I do actually care! You know if you need anything, all you have to do is call, right?”

“I do. And I appreciate it.”

“Why don’t you come for dinner one night?”

“Let’s just stick to our planned dinner on the 17th, please. As I’ve said to my housemates and others, I just need some time.”

“OK. The offer is there. Just call anytime.”

“Thanks,” I replied.

After we said ‘goodbye’, I hung up and went downstairs. I wasn’t particularly interested in doing anything, so I picked up my book, which I’d left on the kitchen counter, and went to the Japanese room to read. I wasn’t surprised when both CeCi and Deanna came in, but they said nothing and simply sat down with books to read. I didn’t mind them being in the same room, and I was happy they simply read quietly.

I read for about an hour, then let Deanna and CeCi know I was going to bed. As I left the Japanese room, Bianca came over to me and offered me a hug, which I accepted. We both said ‘good night’, and I went up to my room.

January 3, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

I was happy to return to work on Tuesday, having divided my time on Monday between Violet’s house and my house. The only downside of coming into the office was that everyone I talked to expressed their condolences and asked me how I was. I hoped that would taper off, as I wanted to focus on work when I was in the office. When I sat down at my desk, I picked up a small sheaf of pink telephone message slips.

There was nothing pressing, so I grabbed a folder from my ‘IN’ box and saw that Brandon Littleton’s trust account had been approved and the wire transfer had been executed on December 30th. That was good news, and I made a note to call and speak to him. I also made a note to speak with Kendall Roy about the meal I’d offered for them to get that done despite the holidays.

Before I began working on my portion of the morning analyst report, I read over the ones Tony had created in my absence. I was pleased with the quality and analysis and made a few notes for further research. Once I’d done that, I began my usual review of the news, as well as the closing prices for currencies and precious metals from the previous trading session.

I completed the report, copied it to the proper storage location on the computer so the secretaries could access it, then took Violet’s résumé to Mrs. Peterson in Personnel.

“She’s a friend of yours?” Mrs. Peterson asked.

“Yes. I’ve known her for just over two years.”

“OK. I’ll have her come in for an interview, then check her references. If there are no problems, you can extend the offer right away. I believe I provided the salary information.”

“Yes. The only question I have is bonuses for assistants.”

“There are no target amounts the way there are for other positions. Basically, all secretaries receive equal amounts. Heads of desks often compensate them as well.”

I heard ‘for services rendered’ even though Mrs. Peterson didn’t say that.

“But that’s not via Spurgeon, right?”

“Correct. It’s similar to the car Murray Matheson comped you.”

“Thanks.”

“Call Janet and make an appointment to see Noel Spurgeon to discuss your compensation for this year, please.”

“I’ll do that right away. Is he in today?”

“Not until Thursday. He’s reachable, of course, if you need something urgently.”

“No, it was just a question of when the meeting might be.”

When I returned to my office, I immediately placed a call to Janet and set up my meeting with Noel Spurgeon for Thursday afternoon at 2:00pm. That accomplished, I set about returning calls, one of which was to Stan Jakes, the reporter from the Trib.

“I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine,” he said. “Len Walter.”

“The business reporter from WBBM?”

“Yes. He’d be a good contact for you to have, and you’d be a good source for him.”

That was, in my mind, a no-brainer, as Len Walter was the business reporter in Chicago who broadcast from the Midwest Stock Exchange.

“I’d be happy to have the introduction,” I said. “If you pick a day next week, I’ll buy lunch at any place you can name.”

Stan laughed, “Someday, I’ll take you up on that in a serious way, but I think we’ll shoot for Venice Café. The tables in the back are out of the way, and with the dim lighting, we won’t attract any attention. How about Thursday, January 12th at 11:30am to beat the lunch rush?”

“I’ll put it on my calendar,” I said. “See you then.”

After we said ‘goodbye’, I returned the call from Brandon Littleton. He wasn’t in the office, but his secretary relayed the message that he had called to thank me for expediting the transfer of his trust. I expressed my gratitude, and she promised he’d call by the end of the day once he was out of court.

The rest of the morning was busy, and I calculated my actual return on the first dollars in, and it was 39.7%, though given much of the money had come in later in the year, and Littleton’s literally on the last day, which lowered the overall annual gains. That was why what Mr. Matheson called the ‘league table’ would show returns on the first dollar in, as that would better reflect my performance.

Of course, the ‘twenty’ was calculated on the total return for the fund, and that meant zero from Littleton’s money, though we’d collect the management fee today. Ultimately, the numbers didn’t mean much with regard to my income, as I had been salaried for all of 1983.

That said, I did have carried interest in excess of a million dollars, though about forty percent of that would go to Uncle Sam and Governor Thompson when I withdrew it. That in and of itself was enough reason to let it ride so as to benefit from the compounding effects. My thought process was interrupted by the phone ringing.

“Research; Kane.”

“Jonathan Kane?”

“Yes.”

“This is Sargent Matt Callahan of the Clermont County, Ohio, Sheriff’s Department. I’d like to ask you a few questions, if I might.”

“Concerning?”

“Miss Beverly Newton.”

I had an immediate sinking feeling, but I really had no choice but to answer his questions.

“What did you want to know?”

“How long have you known her?” he asked.

“Since we were toddlers.”

“Was your relationship romantic? I mean, when you were older?”

“It depends on what you mean. She was my best friend, in fact, my only close friend. We never really discussed our relationship in those terms. If you’re asking if we had sex, yes, we did.”

“Are you the father of her daughter, Heather?”

“No. There were no blood tests or anything because she became pregnant long after I moved to Chicago, and I wasn’t in Ohio again until she was several months pregnant.”

“But you were with her during the delivery of the child?”

“Yes.”

“Did she reveal to you the name of the baby’s father?”

“Not at that time.”

“But later?”

“Yes.”

“Who is the baby’s father?”

“I’m sorry, Sargent, but you’ll need to ask Bev that question. I can give you her phone number if you’d like.”

“I could have the County Prosecutor subpoena you.”

“Yes, you could. And then you’ll need to serve it in Illinois, which will require you to go to court here to enforce the subpoena, which I’ll oppose. I’ve been down this road before, so I know how it works. Call Bev. Ask her.”

“I tried to speak to Miss Newton, but she refused to speak to me.”

“There’s something you’re not telling me, Sergeant. If you put your cards on the table, I’d be more inclined to answer further questions.”

“Do you know a former teacher at Goshen High School, Glen Rodgers?”

The sinking feeling turned to dread, and I suddenly wondered if there was some aspect of Ohio law that made Glen having sex with Bev illegal.

“He arrived in the Fall of 1981 after I graduated. He dated my mom for a time.”

“And are you aware of his current whereabouts?”

Given Glen had an Illinois teaching license, and would certainly have had to give an address, there was no doubt in my mind that Sergeant Callahan knew where Glen and Bev were living. Denying I knew he was in Illinois was a nasty trap because, in the end, he’d find both of them in government records.

“Yes,” I replied warily. “He’s in Illinois, teaching in Oak Park, just outside the Chicago city limits.”

“Does Miss Newton reside at 1840 West Morse Avenue in Chicago?”

“No,” I replied. “That’s my house, and it’s where she has her car registered.”

“Where does she live?”

“734 South Dearborn Street in Chicago.”

“That’s the same address I have for Glen Rodgers.”

“Yes.”

“Is he the baby’s father?”

“You’ll need to ask Bev or Glen that question,” I replied.

“I’m going to take that as a ‘yes’, because if it weren’t true, I believe you would deny it.”

“Whatever you want to assume is OK by me,” I replied. “But I do want to point out Bev was seventeen when she became pregnant, and I’m positive Ohio’s age of consent is sixteen.”

“There is an allegation of another relationship,” Sargent Callahan said.

I suppressed a groan because the implication was that Glen had slept with another student and that one was underage.

“I’d have absolutely no knowledge of that,” I said.

“No rumors?”

“None. There were rumors about another teacher, Mr. Kingman, I graduated before Mr. Rodgers started teaching at Goshen High.”

“What were the rumors about the other teacher?”

“That he and his wife had been together while she was still a student and he was a teacher, but those were only rumors. They married not long after she graduated in 1978. May I ask a question?”

“What?”

“How did you get Bev’s phone number? It’s not listed in her name.”

“I called the phone number that was on the teaching certificate application filed by Mr. Rodgers, and Miss Newton answered.”

And that, as they say, was that.

“Are you aware she’s estranged from her parents and does not want them to know where she is?” I asked.

“Yes. We had that information from the FBI and the police in St. Louis. We’re also aware you drove her from Overland Park, Kansas, to Chicago.”

“I did.”

“Jonathan, if I may call you that...”

“You may.”

“Jonathan, it’s obvious to me what the answer to my question is, and you know for a fact I’m going to find out.”

He was right, and, in the end, I couldn’t prevent what was going to happen.

“Yes, Heather is Glen’s child.”

“So, putting two and two together, they had an affair while she was his student.”

“Technically, that’s not correct. She was a student at Goshen High, but she wasn’t in his class when Heather was conceived.”

“You speak like an attorney.”

“I’m a securities analyst. Precision is just as important for me as it is for a lawyer, or a doctor, for that matter.”

“That’s all I have for you,” Sergeant Callahan said. “You may hear from someone in the County Prosecutor’s office. Thank you for your assistance.”

“You’re welcome.”

We ended the call, and I contemplated whom I should call first. I debated with myself and decided to call my mom.

“Goshen High School; Linda Kane speaking.”

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, Jonathan! Is everything OK?”

“I’d say things are pretty freaking far from OK, and I don’t mean with regard to Keiko.”

“What happened?”

“I just had an interesting conversation with Sergeant Matt Callahan of the Clermont County Sheriff’s Department. He asked me about Bev and Glen and implied that he was investigating Glen for having sex with an underage girl.”

“Bev was seventeen when she got pregnant.”

“Yes...”

“Oh, my! Does Bev know?”

“I’m going to surmise she knows something, but what she knows, I can’t say for sure. Sergeant Callahan tracked her down more or less by accident. He was looking for Glen, called the number on Glen’s application for an Illinois teaching license, and Bev answered.”

“What are you going to do?” Mom asked.

“I have no idea. I think I have to call Bev and talk to her.”

“Do you know if Jim and Julie discovered where she’s living?”

“I’m going to guess the answer is ‘no’, given I’m positive Sergeant Callahan called them, in addition to speaking to the McGills and likely the police in Overland Park, Kansas.”

“At this point, I almost feel as if I have to tell them.”

“That thought crossed my mind, but Bev will run if they try to contact her, so I’d hold off on that, at least for now.”

“This is an unholy mess.”

“I know,” I said. “Of course, the allegation could be false.”

“But you don’t think so, do you?” Mom asked.

“No. For some reason, it rings true. And the way Bev is behaving makes me suspicious. The question is, do I call Bev and tell her, or just wait for the chips to fall.”