Chapter 2: A Person of Interest

June 26, 1991, Chicago, Illinois

“Remember what I told you,” Jack said as we walked to the Dirksen Federal Building from his office.

“‘Yes’ or ‘No’ answers where possible,” I replied. “The shortest possible answer to any other question. Do not volunteer anything. Wait for your signal before answering. And, if I’m unsure of what to say, I’ll ask for a break to confer with you.”

“Exactly,” Jack confirmed. “I’ll ask you once more, and please don’t get upset, but is there ANYTHING, and I mean ANYTHING, that you know that they might be interested in?”

Sure there was, but they had absolutely no way of knowing about it as far as I was concerned. They might tie me to Theo, but he was the liaison between NIKA and the union for our work there, and I could document that. The one niggling thing was the envelopes I’d passed to Alderman Bloom years before, but I didn’t think they knew about those, because if they did, I’d have been arrested. But that was a risk. I couldn’t tell Jack about it, because that would open a whole can of worms I didn’t want to open. And which would put me, and my family, in danger. If it came up, I’d have to deal with it.

“I honestly don’t think so,” I lied. “I reviewed my notes, my calendar, my e-mail, and our billing. There’s nothing. I didn’t bring any of that with me, though, as you instructed.”

“We don’t want them to get a free look at anything. Remember what I said about cooperation if I think they’re going to try for warrants that would let them seize your computers.”

I nodded, “Yes. We need to prevent that.”

There was also the matter of the two dozen diskettes, the three-inch stack of papers, and my gun. Those were out of the house, and in the hands of someone I knew would never, ever let on that they had them. And with very good reason. His involvement in Cincinnati, and my help in getting him out of trouble, ensured his silence. When I’d handed him the package and asked him to keep it safe, he had simply nodded and never asked any questions.

“Just keep your cool, no matter what,” Jack advised as we walked to the elevator in the Federal Building.

I suspected that instruction came by way of Jamie, and I was sure that it had come from a conversation with Jessica. She’d said almost the exact same words this morning, and the previous night before I turned in. Just another annoyance that I didn’t need. I knew she was looking out for me, but it was getting oppressive.

“I got it, Jack. Trust me. I’ve been through several of these already, as you well know.”

“I know. But you have a history of, well, volatility, when you get upset.”

Now I was sure it was Jessica, not Jamie. I sighed deeply but didn’t respond. I knew I had to keep my cool, and didn’t need everyone reminding me of it at every turn. That actually made the problem worse, as the continued warnings upset me as well. I took several deep breaths while we waited for the elevator, and then on the way up to the FBI offices. We were shown into a stark interview room, and the two FBI agents arrived a moment later. They introduced themselves as Agents Stone and O’Toole.

“Gentlemen,” Jack said. “Before we begin, I’m going to remind you that Mr. Adams is here voluntarily, and is under no obligation to answer any of your questions. In addition, we do not agree to any kind of recording of this interview.”

“Got it, counselor,” Agent O’Toole said, sounding annoyed.

“I have a question as well,” Jack said.

“And what is that?”

“Is my client a suspect, or person of interest, or target, of any investigation by the US government, or any local law enforcement agency?”

“I can only speak for the FBI, and the answer is that, at this time, he is not.”

“Then we can proceed. I will remind you as well that if at any point I feel that you are treating him as a suspect or person of interest, I’ll end this interview immediately.”

Jack and I had discussed this strategy, and debated it with both Jamie and Melanie as to whether we should be adversarial or purely cooperative. It had been Melanie that, in the end, carried the day, saying that we wanted to put the FBI on notice that we wouldn’t stand for any shenanigans, and that we’d counter anything they tried to do. Jack had been less sure, but I’d agreed with Melanie, and he’d acquiesced.

“Fine, counselor,” Agent Stone replied. “We got it. Mr. Adams, would you state your name, occupation, address, birth date, and place of birth, please.”

“Stephen Mark Adams. I’m the owner and CEO of NIKA Consulting, a computer software and consulting company. I own a home at 4937 S Woodlawn Avenue, Chicago, Illinois, where I live full time. I was born on April 22, 1963, in Lynwood, California.”

They knew all of that, and I had almost given a snarky response that they should just look on the first page of the file folders they had, but Elyse had cautioned me about any smart-ass comments. And I knew she was right. That was actually what I needed to keep in check - not keeping my cool, but ensuring I didn’t tell the FBI just how stupid I thought they were.

“What is your relationship with Alderman Fred Roti?”

“I had two business meetings with him,” I said, following Jack’s instructions to keep the answers short and only on point.

“Could you expand on that?” Agent O’Toole asked.

“You’ll have to ask specific questions, Agent O’Toole,” Jack said. “This isn’t a fishing expedition. We’ll answer your specific questions, but nothing more.”

Agent O’Toole sighed, “Please describe these two meetings, including who attended, what was said, and anything that resulted from them, including any actions you took, or asked anyone to take.”

I suppressed a chuckle and answered in six short sentences, saying that I’d met with them, discussed business opportunities in their wards, asked for referrals, and finally, that I’d given Ed’s résumé to the Alderman to submit.

There were a dozen follow-up questions, none of which revealed anything more than what I’d summarized. Then they came to the question of Ed’s employment.

“What specifically did you ask the Alderman to do?”

“Ensure that Ed’s résumé was noticed. And, to my knowledge, that is all that was done. Ed went through the normal application process, had the normal set of interviews, and passed the background check.”

That had been the only dicey part, but when the prosecutor had dismissed the charges, they had apparently disappeared from view. There hadn’t been a background check for his job in Batavia, so we hadn’t been sure. But once he’d been hired by the City of Chicago, we knew there was no problem.

“Did the Alderman make any phone calls on his behalf, or intervene in any way?”

“To my knowledge, no. I never asked for him to do either of those things.”

“Did you offer the Alderman anything in return for this action?”

“No.”

“Did you ever ask any other Alderman to intervene?”

“No.”

“Did you hire anyone at the request of an Alderman?”

“NIKA has hired people recommended by Alderman Bloom.”

“And what was offered in exchange?”

I shook my head, “Nothing. There was no quid pro quo.”

“Why would you do that?”

“To maintain a good relationship. And despite my attorney’s admonition against doing so, I’ll volunteer that we only hired two of the three people Alderman Bloom recommended, and of those two, we fired one for violating company policy several years ago. That did not change my relationship with the Alderman.”

Jack frowned. But I wanted to get that on the record, and I wasn’t sure that the FBI would ask.

“Have you donated any money to, or served on, any campaign committees?”

“No.”

“Were you asked to?”

“By Alderman Bloom. I refused because I don’t make political donations to anyone and I didn’t have time to serve on any political committees. I’ll point out that I also turned down a position on the IIT Alumni Board for similar reasons.”

Another frown from Jack, but again, information I felt helped me and would show that I was behaving consistently.

The questioning about the Aldermen went on for nearly three hours, with many of the same questions being asked in slightly different ways. It was obvious the agents were probing for any weaknesses in my answers, and trying to get me to say something that contradicted an earlier answer. That didn’t happen because I told the truth.

At 12:15pm, Agent Stone said, “We’re going to break for lunch. We’ll expect you back here at 1:15pm.”

Jack and I left the building, not speaking until we were outside, walking towards the Venice Café where we planned to eat lunch.

“You shouldn’t volunteer information,” he said.

“In those cases, what I volunteered confirmed what I was telling them. Did I say anything bad? Or wrong?”

“No, but remember, they want to get you talking. Most people like to hear themselves talk. They know that. That’s why attorneys remind their clients to keep their answers terse. It’s too easy to say something wrong if you just start talking.”

I nodded, “I understand. But I’m sure you’ve noticed after all these years that I’m super careful with my words.”

He nodded, “You do choose your words like an attorney. But stick to the plan, please. Plenty of really smart people have outsmarted themselves when trying to outsmart the government.”

“Any thoughts on their line of questioning?” I asked.

“I’d say the real target is Alderman Bloom. But as we’ve said, he has a squeaky clean reputation. I don’t think you’ve given them anything that would help a case against him, assuming they could make one. I’m guessing they’re looking at everyone who had any contact with Alderman Roti and Alderman Medrano. That means most likely every alderman is under some kind of scrutiny. Of course, that’s kind of par for the course for Chicago!”

I chuckled, “No kidding.”

We arrived at Venice Café and placed our orders at the counter. We were served immediately, and we took our trays to sit down. In the background, the theme to The Godfather was playing.

Jack laughed, “Is that why you chose this place?”

“No, but it kind of fits, doesn’t it? I’m guessing after lunch we get the union questions. And you and I, along with everyone else who has two brain cells, know they’re mobbed up. The Outfit runs the Chicago unions.”

“And knowing that, you do business with them?”

“We’ve worked at McCormick Place, which everyone knows is Outfit-connected. And so has just about everyone else in the city! If I avoided every construction company, union, or business that might have Outfit ties, I couldn’t run a company in Chicago! I saw plenty of shady characters when we used to have the software business with the construction companies and trucking companies.”

“That’s the one you sold a few years ago?”

“Yes. Seriously, if doing legitimate business with the unions is a problem, then the FBI is going to be busy for the rest of our lives talking to people who have nothing to do with the Outfit!”

“As long as you can show it’s all above-board, it’ll be fine.”

“Then why ask the question?”

“Because one of the agents will. I wanted to gauge your ‘off the cuff’ answer. What will you say to them?”

“That I do business with anyone who has a legitimate need and pays their bills. Law enforcement is their job, not mine.”

Jack nodded, “Usually, I would say just answer with the first sentence, but your personality says you need to give the second one as well. You’ve made your disdain for the FBI clear for years.”

“That I have, Comrade Ivan, uh, what’s your father’s name?”

“Peter,” he chuckled.

“Comrade Ivan Petrovich!”

“At some point, your travel may come up. If they find out you’re going to Russia, that may lead them to ask further questions.”

“To which I’ll answer, тво мать,” I grinned.

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” he said.

I chuckled, “That’s exactly what Pete, Melanie’s husband, said when I told him that phrase. Loosely, it’s the equivalent of ‘motherfucker’, though it’s an imperative. As in, go do it.”

“Ouch. What was the context?”

“You remember Tatyana? It was my estimation of her response if they accused her of being a ‘honey trap’ to her face. And now? Her husband is a Lieutenant Colonel in a Guards Tank Division stationed in Moscow. He might have a word or two to say about such an accusation as well.”

“Did your friend enter their foreign service?”

“Yes. And her father retired, and now he’s a member of the Russian parliament, representing St. Petersburg.”

“St. Petersburg?”

I smiled, “Leningrad. I hang around with too many ‘Whites’ to use the Communist name for the city.”

“Whites? What does being white have to do with it?”

“Not a history major, Jack?”

“No. My undergrad degree was in criminal justice.”

“‘Whites’ is a term for the monarchists who supported the Tsar, as well as others who made common cause with them. ‘Whites’ as opposed to the ‘Reds’, the Communists.”

“Ah, OK. Now it makes some level of sense.”

We finished our lunch and headed back to the FBI office, and the second part of the interview began. As expected, it focused on unions.

“How did you become involved with the unions?” Agent Stone asked.

“Through membership management software that I wrote with some friends of mine. It was a spinoff of some software we wrote in High School to manage veterinary offices.”

“High School?” Agent O’Toole asked.

“Agent O’Toole,” Jack interrupted. “That isn’t relevant to your investigation of the unions. Mr. Adams didn’t attend High School in Illinois.”

“Federal jurisdiction does apply, counselor.”

“Be that as it may, we’re not answering any questions about things that may or may not have occurred when Mr. Adams was a minor. Period. Move on.”

“How did you get that business?”

“NIKA became involved through Alderman Bloom. He helped us find office space in the union hall, and then through my relationship with the union president, Mr. King, we ended up with four union contracts. We’ve expanded from there.”

That wasn’t the whole story, but it was accurate. It neatly avoided bringing Theo, Don Joseph, or the Outfit into the picture in any way. Of course, the next question was more difficult.

“And you had no dealings with them before NIKA?”

“I sold them the software, just as I said.”

“And how did you do that?”

“Through a guy named Theo Lipari. I ran into him in Hyde Park back when I first moved here in ‘81. We got to talking, I told him about my background, and he asked about working on computers for his union.”

“Did you know that Mr. Lipari is a member of the Chicago Outfit? The mob?”

“Along with just about everyone in the construction business in Chicago,” I said in a snarky way. “And the unions. You can’t swing a dead cat without hitting an Outfit-connected firm in Chicago! But you’ll find that I have complete documentation of everything I did for them, including my tax returns. The same goes for NIKA. If they have legitimate business needs, and pay their bills, that’s all that matters to me. Law enforcement is your problem, not mine.”

“So you are admitting you are an associate of a known member of the Chicago Outfit? Is that what you’re saying?”

“And that’s the end of the interview, gentlemen,” Jack said firmly. “Steve, we’re leaving. Do NOT say another word.”

“Don’t leave town, Mr. Adams,” Agent O’Toole said.

“Mr. Adams has a trip to Europe planned starting July 4th. It was booked months ago, long before whatever fishing expedition you have against him began. You have no power to prevent him from making that trip.”

Chapter 3 »