Chapter 32: Rescue Mission

January 11, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

When I returned to the office, I ate lunch at my desk, then placed a call to Gwen Meyer. Her assistant put me right through.

“Good morning, Mr. Kane,” she said when she came on the phone. “How can I assist you?”

“Please, call me Jonathan. I was referred to you by Nelson Boyd of Hart-Lincoln because a close female friend and I are having a baby. He felt we should talk to you to ensure everything is handled properly.”

“Are you two living together?”

“In the sense that we share the same house. She has her own room; well, one she shares with her girlfriend.”

“Ah, OK. I’ve handled situations such as this before. Do you plan to raise the child together and share custody?”

“Yes. I’ve already made the appropriate provisions in my will.”

“Very good. The rest is simple if there is nothing contentious. We simply prepare a parenting and custody agreement that ensures your rights, as your friend, being the biological mother, automatically has those rights.”

“A biological father doesn’t?”

“In a traditional marriage, he does; in Illinois, even living together does not give either partner any rights a person who was single would not have. Generally, a biological father either needs to reach an agreement with the mother or use the courts to enforce an agreement. You do realize you’ll be responsible for child support at the statutory levels, should your friend claim it, no matter what you write in the agreement.”

“Interesting. In Ohio, there’s all manner of flexibility.”

“I take it that’s where you’re from?”

“Yes.”

“I’m no expert on Ohio law, but I suspect they are more in line with what you would traditionally call alimony and child support, and alimony would apply even if you were simply cohabitating. That’s not the case in Illinois. You’ll need to make provisions if you want your friend to have ‘separate maintenance’.”

“She’s a professional, the same as I am, so I don’t believe that will be necessary, and I’m obviously willing to pay child support in the exceedingly unlikely event it’s necessary.”

“Then, if you provide my assistant with the details, I’ll prepare the necessary documents for the two of you to sign. I can courier them to you, and you simply sign them in front of a notary and courier or mail them back.”

“Thanks. I do have one more topic I need to discuss.”

“What’s that?”

I gave a synopsis of the situation with Bev, including our history.

“That could be, to use a non-legal term, a mess. You might well need to deal with three, possibly four, state agencies if what you expect to occur comes to pass.”

“Four?”

“Given the documents were prepared in St. Louis, it might be possible under Missouri law that their Family Services agency would have some say. I doubt it, but in complex custody cases, you never know. My advice is, should this come to pass and some other state agency contacts you, simply travel there, gain custody of the child, and then travel immediately to Ohio. Turn the girl over to her grandparents and have them contact a local attorney.”

“There’s already one involved. There was a child support dispute a few years ago that blew up into the current situation. What I didn’t say was that my friend thought someone else was the father.”

“Those situations can be very distressing, and taking everything you’ve said into account, I believe your friend could, if she were to turn herself in, escape any kind of legal consequences, and keep her child. If she contacts you, encourage her to do that. You should also consider contacting law enforcement to let them know she was in touch. That shows you’re acting responsibly and will help to ensure the young girl ends up with her grandparents through you.”

“Thanks. Do you know what it would take for her parents to gain legal custody?”

“No. Each state has differing laws about such situations, and the rights of grandparents are muddled in many states. Family Services in Ohio or your Ohio attorney could give you a better idea than I could. Here in Illinois, grandparents would be preferable for DCFS to foster care in most cases. Anything else?”

“No. You can transfer me to your assistant, and I’ll provide all the details. How do I pay?”

“I’ll invoice you unless you think you need me on retainer for some reason?”

“Not that I can think of,” I replied. “Thanks.”

She transferred me back to her assistant, who took down our names, birthdates, addresses, and other basic data, including where both Bianca and I were born. Once he had all that information, he said he’d prepare the forms for Ms. Meyer to review and have them couriered to me by Friday. I thanked him, hung up, and began my afternoon research.

At the end of the day, Bianca, Jack, and I headed home, and I helped Bianca make dinner.

“Any further thoughts on the condo?” she asked, given we were alone in the kitchen.

“I think my biggest concern is the lifestyle change,” I said.

“You do realize you can drink beer in a luxury condo the same as in a sixty-year-old house, right?”

I laughed, “Yes, of course. I said that because of the impression I had. That said, there’s a difference between sitting in a great room ninety floors up and in a backyard. And while parks are nice, Chicago’s open bottle law means no beer there.”

“Is that your only concern, or just your main one?”

“If you include the hot tub and gardens and call it ‘outdoors’, I’d say it’s my only objection. Everything else argues for it. Our commute is by elevator, which makes things easier with childcare. Deanna and CeCi are much closer to school, and CeCi is much closer to work. Jack and Kristy would have all the space they needed to start a family. And we’d have plenty of room for Sofía and still have a spare room.”

“Here’s something to consider, at least in the short term — if Jack and Kristy are here, I bet you anything you care to wager they’d host on weekends so we could grill and have beers in the backyard.”

“I agree with you they would, and that does ameliorate the problem somewhat, at least for the next few years.”

“The other thing to consider is that if you need to entertain professionally, which I expect you will, which place is better?”

“The condo, for sure. And as I said, the great room is big enough for a pool table without taking away space from the TV or sitting areas we discussed.”

“You saw the wet bar, right?”

“Yes. The condo would be a major upgrade, and we wouldn’t lose anything from inside, as we’ve discussed.”

“You’re used to having land, right?”

“It wasn’t that we had much land back in Ohio. Our house was on a modest lot, but there was a farmer’s field behind our house and woods across the street from the front of the house. And when I worked, I spent a significant amount of time outside.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Think about it until Friday when I promised I’d give them an answer.”

“I have to ask — what would you offer?”

“Given it’s sat empty for nearly a year, I’d offer $285,000 against their listing price of $320,000. I expect we’d settle around $295,000. That would mean mortgage payments of around $1700, roughly speaking. That’s something I can easily handle. Add in taxes and condo association fees, and it’ll be around $2500 a month. My income, without bonus, and not counting carried interest, should average roughly $20,000 per month, so it’s affordable.”

“Those numbers are still staggering. I assume it’s OK to share my bonus number and raise with you, right?”

“Technically, no, but unless you tell or I tell, who is going to know?”

“Ten grand bonus and a ten percent raise. I’m ecstatic!”

“Congratulations! Spurgeon is swimming in Scrooge McDuck levels of gold coin and is happy to share a portion of it with anyone who adds to that pile of filthy lucre!”

Bianca laughed, “Who knew that giving up my virginity to what amounted to a random guy with a big dick would turn out to be so profitable!”

I reached over and touched her stomach, “In more ways than one, and not just for you.”

“You’re going to make a good dad, Jonathan.”

“I hope so.”

January 12, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

On Thursday at lunch, I walked to Venice Café to meet the two reporters, and Stan Jakes performed the introductions.

“Jonathan Kane, meet Len Walter; Len, Jonathan Kane of Spurgeon Capital.”

We shook hands and then got in line to get our food. Venice did not offer table ordering; instead, everyone lined up at various stations to get pasta, pizza, calzones, or salads. I went for a calzone, and ten minutes later, the three of us were sitting in the back of the restaurant with the theme from the Godfather covering our conversations.

“I’ve been trying to get in to see Noel Spurgeon for four years,” Mr. Walter said. “Most guys like him want to talk to the press.”

“Noel Spurgeon is not like most investors,” I replied. “That’s why these conversations have to be on deep background.”

“I don’t have a recorder or even a pen and paper for exactly that reason; there will be no records of our conversations. Tell me about yourself, Jonathan, if I may call you that.”

“Of course,” I replied

I gave him a five-minute biography as he and Stan Jakes ate their salads.

“High School to Head of Research in two years, and two licenses to boot?” Len Walter observed. “That’s impressive, especially given your family background.”

“Thanks. I think growing up the way I did is a key to my success.”

“The thing I’m most curious about is what you said about data analysis.”

“I can only discuss that in the most general terms, even with a promise of being on deep background. The actual algorithms and programs are proprietary, and discussing the details would cost me my job.”

“I understand. I did some research into Bernard Madoff and his computerization of the ‘pink sheets’, but this seems more interesting, and ultimately more useful, than simply automating human-initiated trades.”

“The computers aren’t trading, but I could see a time in the future when they have enough processing power to be able to execute certain types of pre-programmed trades, especially currency arbitrage. For now, they’re simply providing support to the traders who make the actual decisions and initiate the trades.”

“Who develops those programs and algorithms?”

“Two members of my team,” I replied. “One’s like me in that she hasn’t finished college but is a computer wiz. The other has fairly extensive experience with data models and statistics.”

We spent the next ten minutes discussing, in a general way, how we made use of the computers, but several times, I had to decline to answer questions that would cross the line of revealing proprietary information.

“What’s your outlook on the market?” Len Walter asked.

“A bearish year for the Dow and a slightly positive outlook for the S&P. The real mover will be the Nikkei 225.”

“Japan? Interesting.”

“The fundamentals are there, and having heard your business reports on WBBM, I’m confident you could look at them and see the same thing.”

He smiled and was quiet for a moment, “Real estate, right? All that excess equity just sitting there.”

“That is the main driving factor.”

“Add in their trade surplus, and it makes perfect sense,” he observed.

“Exactly. It sure doesn’t hurt their economy that they only spend a tiny percentage of GDP on defense.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

We finished our lunches, and the three of us shook hands.

“I’d like to call you from time to time when something big happens,” Len Walter said.

“Please do,” I replied.

I left them at the table so as not to be seen walking out together and headed back to the Hancock Center. I spent the afternoon researching and also thinking about what to do about the condo. I was reasonably certain I was going to take the plunge, but I decided to sleep on it one more night.

As I walked back to the office, I remembered that I owed Deanna an answer about modeling for her art class. Being nude in front of a dozen girls wouldn’t have given me pause, given I’d had sex in front of groups of girls; the thought of being nude in front of other guys, on the other hand, was uncomfortable. I almost laughed because, if Deanna was right, at least some of those guys would be gay, which was a weird thought.

I thought about it until I reached the Hancock Center and decided I could do it, and would let Deanna know when I arrived home.

January 13, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

“What are you going to do?” Bianca asked, following me into my office on Friday morning.

“Make an offer,” I replied.

“So, you’ll be movin’ on up to a deluxe apartment in the sky?” Bianca asked with a smirk.

“Sorry, I know you’re quoting something, but I have no idea what.”

“I didn’t peg you for a fan of All in the Family or The Jeffersons. That’s from the theme song to The Jeffersons.”

“I watched one episode of All in the Family and didn’t like it. I found it insulting and dumb. Anyway, at 9:00am, we should go to Personnel to have the papers for Ms. Meyer notarized, then I’ll give them to Jack to be couriered. Any last-minute concerns?”

“Nope! And what are the chances we aren’t together for the next eighteen years?”

“Not as favorable as you might think,” I replied.

“OK, sorry, yes, but I meant in a way that these documents would matter?”

“Near zero, I suspect. Back to the condo — are you going to run it by anyone else?”

“No. You agree, and that’s the key. I don’t think the others will object.”

“Certainly not Deanna, given she offered to be your mistress for life!”

“And, as I said to her, patronage didn’t require that.”

“You know that she’s about the safest person for you to be with now, right?”

“As opposed to Teri or Kayleigh?” I asked.

“You and Dee have a well-established relationship, and it’s uncomplicated.”

“I know. But right now, it’s actually a complication I don’t need.”

“I apologize for even bringing it up,” Bianca said.

“No need,” I replied. “You don’t need to walk on eggshells around me. You know I’ll push back if I don’t agree, and I need to hear your opinions.”

“Thanks.”

Bianca left, and I began working on my portion of the analyst report. I completed it, and then Bianca and I went to Personnel to have our signatures notarized. Once that was accomplished, I took the envelope with the papers to Jack and arranged for them to be couriered to Ms. Meyer’s office in Hyde Park.

When I left the mailroom, instead of going back to my office, I took the elevator down to the lobby, walked around to the entrance for the residences, and went to the sales and leasing office to speak to Anhelina.

“I’d like to make an offer on the six-bedroom unit,” I said. “$285,000 with a forty-five-day closing.”

“I’m not sure how receptive they’re going to be to that offer.”

“They need to take into account the fact that the Prime Rate is 11%, and that means mortgages are a few percentage points higher. They also have carrying costs. I’d like to fill out an offer sheet, and I’ll write you a check for $5000 in earnest money.”

“Is there a mortgage contingency?”

“No.”

She filled out an offer sheet and had me sign it. I wrote a check for the earnest money and handed it to her.

“I’ll speak to them as soon as possible. Will you entertain a counter?”

“Yes. I need a copy of the listing, please.”

She handed it to me, and I thanked her. I left the sales and leasing office and took two elevators to get to the Spurgeon offices. I got off on 30 and went to Personnel.

“I need a payoff amount on my mortgage,” I said to Cheryl, the clerk. “And then I need a form for a new mortgage for this property, for which I put in an offer.”

I handed her the listing form.

“You should,” I continued, “have everything else in the packet for the current mortgage.”

“OK. I’ll put that together for you. When do you expect to have a contract?”

“Sometime next week,” I replied. “I expect them to counter and negotiate.”

“OK. Good luck!”

I left Personnel, returned to 29, and picked up the phone.

“Waterston.”

“Kane at Spurgeon Capital.”

“Good morning. My condolences on the loss of your wife.”

“Thanks.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I want to roll my current house into the mortgage you have because I put in an offer on a new place.”

“I’ll need updated income numbers, as well as a year-end statement from your fund. I’m going to assume your carried interest increased.”

“Yes. It’s about a million, and it’s better to use it to secure a loan than give Uncle Sam and Governor Thompson about forty percent so I could pay cash.”

“You got that right! This should be a no-brainer. The interest rate will stay the same, and the origination fee will only include the value of the added property.”

“Excellent. Thanks. I’ll get you everything you need today.”

“Your current mortgage is with Spurgeon, right?”

“Yes. The funds would pay off that loan to clear the way to originate a new loan.”

“Piece of cake.”

“Thanks.”

We ended the call, and now all I could do was wait for the payoff number from Personnel and a response to my purchase offer. I still had some minor reservations about giving up the backyard, but all in all, it made perfect sense, especially with the impending arrival of my daughter and Jack and Kristy’s desire to have a place of their own.

Just before lunch, Cheryl called me with the payoff number, so I faxed the information to Will Waterston, then joined Bianca for lunch in the break room. After we ate, we headed to the gym, then returned to the office.

Just before 3:00pm, Anhelina Bondarenko from the sales and leasing office called.

“They countered at $310,000,” she said.

“I’ll go to $295,000, but that’s firm,” I replied.

“I’ll relay the revised offer.”

“Thank you.”

We said ‘goodbye’, and I had just replaced the receiver in the cradle when the phone rang with an outside call.

“Research; Kane.”

“Mr. Kane, this is Agent Feldman with the FBI.”

“Good afternoon.”

“Glen Rodgers and Beverly Newton were detained in Antler, North Dakota, trying to cross the border into Canada.”