Chapter 46: We Have Some Questions

May, 1985, Colerain Township, Ohio

Stephanie and I arrived at Don Joseph's house just before lunch. He greeted us and took us into his study, where Joyce joined us.

"Shall we toast your new business?" he asked.

"Of course!" I replied happily. "And to our friendship!"

He nodded and smiled as he poured four glasses of Sambuca and handed them to each of us. We raised our glasses, touched them, and then drank down the anise-flavored contents.

"Thank you for the gift, Don Joseph," I said.

He waved his hand, "A small gesture between friends."

"How is your health?" I asked.

"My doctors are happy. I am happy, except for the limits on my diet. But as you see, I still take a drink with my friends. How long will you stay?"

"Just for lunch, unfortunately. I need to be in Chicago this evening."

"Then let us go to the table that my wife has set for us," he said.

We had a wonderful lunch and just as we said our goodbyes, his children and grandchildren began arriving for the usual Sunday afternoon gathering. Anthony and Connie were getting out of his car just as Stephanie and I were walking out to her car.

"Hi, Steve," Connie said, giving me a quick hug.

Anthony shook my hand, "Good to see you again."

"Sorry we have to run," I said. "We're on our way back to Chicago and need to leave right away."

"Then perhaps we'll speak soon," he said, his eyes telling me that he had something for me to do.

Stephanie and I got into the car and set out for Chicago.

"We never talked about the details of the trip to California," Stephanie said.

"Well," I replied, "it's roughly 2,000 miles. I figured we can make it in just over two days if we split the driving. The first night would be Cheyenne, Wyoming. The second night will be Reno, Nevada. That lets us only drive about 250 miles on the third day, so we can sleep in a bit and still get to Stanford relatively early. We'll stay the night there, and then make the drive to Seattle, which is about 900 miles, the next day. From Seattle to Minneapolis is about 1,600 miles. That trip we'll stop in Billings, Montana. Minneapolis to Chicago is about 400 miles, so another one-day trip."

"Damn; that's a ton of driving!" Stephanie observed.

"I figure we can stay a day in Seattle to rest and break up our part of the trip. We'll do the same in Minneapolis. That makes it a total of nine days."

"When are we leaving?"

"I was thinking very early on Tuesday. I want to leave about 5:00am."

"OK. Who's still in Chicago?" she asked.

"Nobody, I think," I said, trying to remember. "Kara, Bethany, and Elyse were all coming to Ohio today. Sofia left for Sweden yesterday. Cindi went back to Madison, and she'll move in with Chris later this week. Katy went to Boston, but she'll be moving in with Kenneth in a couple of weeks when she comes back. Julia went back to Idaho and she'll fly back to start work. Jorge will be moving in tomorrow, and the twins will move out of the coach house tomorrow."

"So we have the house to ourselves tonight?" she asked expectantly.

"Yes. And two nights in motels on the drive out to California."

"And after that, I'll have to sleep alone, I guess," Stephanie said with a slight frown.

"Yes. Jennifer, Josie, and I are going to try to make a baby together. She talked to you, didn't she?"

"Yes. I guess I can't sleep with you once we get to California."

"I don't know. Jennifer needs sperm from me. She has Josie to cuddle!"

Stephanie laughed, "So you're a sperm donor?"

"No. Right before she left, Jennifer said that the only way we can do this is if the three of us make love. Really make love. Not just mechanically."

"I guess I'll be doing the driving!" she teased.

May, 1985, Chicago, Illinois

We made it to Chicago a bit later than we'd hoped due to an accident on I-65 near Hobart, Indiana. We carried Stephanie's things into the house, putting them in the mostly empty half of my walk-in closet. When we came back from California, she would move into the coach house with Jennifer and Josie. Tonight, I was sure she'd be in my bed.

"I guess I have to sleep somewhere else tomorrow night," she said.

"Jorge will be moving in, so I'd say so. We'll need to move things around in the rooms tomorrow. I talked to the girls and they're cool with it. You can use Elyse's bed. I talked to her."

"Cool. Who's rooming with whom?"

"Elyse and Sofia, Kara and Bethany, Dave and Julia, Charlie and George. Jorge will be in Charlie and George's room for the Summer."

"And your renters are moving out tomorrow?"

"Yes. We'll do a quick walk-through around lunchtime and get the keys back. They promised to clean the house from top to bottom, so at that point, we can move your stuff. Let's make some dinner."

We made dinner and ate at the table in the breakfast nook. After we did the dishes, we decided to take a sauna.

"Well, you can't swim worth a damn, but karate is keeping you in damned good shape, Big Brother."

"I like your shape too, Squirt! What are you going to do for exercise here?"

"I'll probably join your karate gang. It's you, Kara, and Sofia, right?"

"That's right," I said. "I was just awarded my brown belt, and Kara and Sofia have their green belts. I'll go tomorrow night, even though I hadn't planned to. Sensei is kind of sensitive about the number of classes I've missed. Once we get back from California, I'll be pretty consistent."

"Cool," Stephanie said. "Are you still going to let people come here to study on Saturdays like you did?"

"Absolutely. Elyse, Sofia, Kara, George, and Charlie will all still be in school. And you, of course."

We sat quietly for about twenty minutes, and then I adjusted the temperature controls and we got into the whirlpool. When the tub was full, I pressed the button to turn on the water jets.

"Are we really going to start this up again?" I asked, wrapping my arms tightly around my sister.

"Don't you want to?"

"Hell if I know," I sighed. "I was content with where we were. Then you opened up the possibility again, and I accepted. I'm just not convinced that it's a good idea. Anything I have to keep from Bethany bothers me, Squirt. It bothers me a lot."

"I wondered about that."

"Don't get me wrong, I don't regret making love for your birthday. I just don't know that we can risk being together when anyone else is around. It could really make a mess of things. Even sitting like we are in the whirlpool could."

"What about being in the sauna together?"

"That we can manage, I think," I said. "But I think your eighteenth birthday has to be the exception."

"Could there be exceptions in the future?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. I love you, Squirt, and I'll happily cuddle you tonight and on the trip, but we shouldn't make love."

She sighed, "I'm not surprised. Honestly, I was surprised that you made love with me at the hotel."

We sat in the tub for about twenty minutes and then went up to my room to shower and get into bed. Stephanie stretched out and snuggled close when I put my arm around her. We fell asleep, content to be brother and sister again.

On Monday morning, we slept in, showered, and then went down to make breakfast. We ate and just as we were finishing the dishes, the doorbell rang twice, followed by loud pounding on the door. I dried my hands on the dish towel and went to open the door.

"Stephen Adams?" Agent Feldman of the FBI asked.

"Yes, of course. You know that."

"We'd like to ask you some questions," he said.

"We've been through this before," I said.

"Son, we need you to come downtown to the Dirksen Building and talk to us."

I wondered if it had to do with the arrest of the heads of the Five Families in New York. That was the only thing that I could think of, but I hadn't been involved in anything serious with the Outfit in some time, and there was no chance that Theo, or anyone else, would say anything. Or at least I didn't think so. And if that was something related to the outfit, I had information I could share that would likely protect me.

"Am I under arrest?" I asked.

"No. We just want to talk to you."

"I want to call my lawyer. You may as well let me do it now, because I'm not saying one word to you without him present. It'll save time if I call before we leave."

"You can make your call. May we come in?"

"Not without a warrant. You can wait on the porch. I'll come voluntarily as soon as I make my call."

I shut the door and walked back to the kitchen, where Stephanie had a look of concern.

"That's the FBI. They want me to go with them, though I'm not under arrest. I have no idea what it's about, so I'm going to call Jamie. I need you to do something for me. First call Dad. Second, get my journals — both the books and the diskettes out of the locked drawer. Here's the key. I need you to get them out of the house. The FBI might come back with a warrant and I can't afford to lose those or even have them read them. Get Anala's address from my desk and once we're gone, take them to her apartment. Got it?"

"OK," she said apprehensively.

I walked into my study and found Jamie's card. I dialed his direct line, and he answered.

"Jamie Ferguson."

"Jamie, it's Steve. I need some help."

"Aren't you in Ohio?"

"No, I got back last night. I need a lawyer. One who has experience dealing with the FBI."

"The FBI? What's going on?"

"I have no clue. They're at my door saying that they want me to come with them and answer questions. They mentioned the Dirksen Building."

"Did they say you were under arrest?" Jamie asked.

"I asked, and they said I wasn't."

"Good. Do you think you can stall them?"

"No," I said. "They let me make this call. Once I'm done, I'll need to go with them."

"OK. I'll get someone over there to meet you. It's just around the corner from our office. If nobody is free, I'll come myself. It's not my area of practice, but I can run interference until we get someone more experienced. Say nothing at all. Tell them that you're waiting for your attorney. Say nothing and sign nothing. Got it?"

"Got it. Thanks," I said.

I hung up and then picked up my wallet and went back to the front door. I opened it, stepped out onto the porch, and shut it behind me.

"My lawyer will meet us at your office," I said. "Let's go."

I followed them to their car and got in the back seat. Agent Johnson was driving, and Agent Feldman sat in the front passenger seat. Nobody said anything to me until we got to the Dirksen Federal Building on South Dearborn. They walked me into the building and we went up to the third floor. They put me in a small room with a table and a few chairs and asked if I wanted coffee. I accepted and then was left alone for about ten minutes.

There was a soft knock at the door, and then it opened.

"Steve Adams?" a man in what looked like a very expensive suit asked.

"Yes. Who are you?"

"Jack Switzer from Allen & Baker. Jamie Ferguson said you needed some help."

"So it would seem," I said.

He came in, handed me his card, and then sat down next to me.

"Have you spoken to the FBI before?"

"Yes. I've seen the same two agents a few times. They've talked to me about my relationship with my friend Ivan Konstantinovich Voronin, who was Trade Attaché to the US until the end of April. He's been reassigned to Moscow. I've dated his daughter off and on since 1981. I first met her in Austria in 1980. They've asked me about espionage and even tried to encourage me to spy on my friends."

"OK. Before we let them in, I need you to walk me through everything you know and everything you've done. Don't leave anything out."

I told him the story, starting with the ski class in Katschberg, Austria, and ending with the most recent visit to Washington. He asked questions, especially about the encounters with the FBI, and then asked me the question that I knew had to come.

"Is there anything else that they might want to talk to you about?" he asked.

Given that it was the same agents who had talked to me in the past, I felt I could safely keep my mouth shut.

"Not that I can think of," I said.

"OK. When they ask a question, just look to me. If I nod, answer. If I shake my head, tell them that you refuse to answer on advice of counsel. I may speak, but mostly I'll just indicate whether or not you should answer. Don't volunteer anything and answer as briefly as possible. If you don't know something, say so. If you aren't sure, say so. I'll look for the earliest possible opportunity to end this."

"Got it."

"Good. I'll be back with the agents."

Five minutes later, Agents Johnson and Feldman came in, along with a young woman with steno machine like the one I'd seen at the deposition.

"Mr. Adams, do you know anyone in the United States Navy?" Agent Feldman asked.

I looked at Mr. Switzer, who nodded.

"Yes. Several ROTC students, a midshipman at the Academy who I knew in High School, and Agent Pete Carston of the Naval Investigative Service, though I guess he's technically not in the Navy. And, of course, my father, who served in the Navy during World War II."

"Sorry, I meant active duty?"

A nod from Mr. Switzer.

"No."

"Do you know anyone who has ever served aboard the USS Nimitz?"

Another nod from Mr. Switzer.

"Not that I'm aware of. I don't know what Summer cruises my ROTC friends were on."

"Have you ever been to Norfolk, Virginia, Rockville, Maryland, or Sacramento, California?"

A nod.

"No to the first two. I was in Sacramento in 1972 when I was nine."

"Do you know of, or have you heard of, a Russian named Boris Solomatin?"

A nod.

"No. I have no idea who that is."

Agent Feldman and Agent Johnson ran through a bunch of names, none of which I recognized except Richard Miller, an FBI agent who had been arrested for espionage back in October, along with Svetlana and Nikolai Ogorodnikov, Russian immigrants who had moved to Los Angeles in 1973, claiming refugee status, though they were actually deep-cover KGB assets.

I reiterated that the only Russians that I really knew were the Voronins and the Anisimovs, though I had met many others. We went over the list of people that I'd met at each function, as best as I could remember them. Eventually, they turned back to the Voronins.

"We've spoken before about your relationship with Ivan Konstantinovich Voronin, who recently returned to the Soviet Union. Did you, at any time, pass or receive documents, information, materials, or money to or from this Soviet citizen, or did he ever ask you to do so?"

A nod.

"No. I did give his daughter Christmas gifts, and received some from her."