Chapter 41: If You Remember Anything, Call Us

February 6, 1995, Chicago, Illinois

“Well, if it isn’t my old friends Agents O’Toole and Stone,” I grinned, shaking their hands. “What can I do for you?”

“We’d like to speak to you, privately,” Agent Stone said.

“Are you investigating me?” I asked.

Agent Stone shook his head, “No. You are not a suspect, a person of interest, nor a target.”

“And by privately, you mean without Elyse or my attorney present?”

“Yes, if you would. I’ll explain what we want and then you can decide, OK?”

“Sure. Elyse, I’ll call you,” I said.

“Are you sure about that?”

“They’re being nice; I’m being nice. It worked well last time.”

“OK. I’ll be in my office,” Elyse said.

She left and the two FBI agents and I went into the ‘Tretiak’ room.

Agent O’Toole took a sheet of paper from his portfolio and slid it across the table.

“This is our version of the ‘Official Secrets Act’,” he said with a smile.

“They do have a much better system in the UK for that kind of thing,” I said. “Though it does get abused. You do know I like to have Jamie read these things.”

“Steve, if I may call you that, trust us on this one. It HAS to stay between the three of us and our Agent in Charge.”

I nodded, “OK. Let me read it.”

The one page agreement simply said I couldn’t talk about anything that I discussed with the agents or heard from them, with anyone except the Agent in Charge in the Chicago office, the FBI director, the Attorney General, or the US Attorney from Northern Illinois. I read it twice, then signed it and pushed it back.

“What’s this about?” I asked.

“Unions, lawyers, and loan sharking,” Agent O’Toole said.

I nodded; the tip I’d had from Stan Jakes had been right on target. But I was instantly worried.

“Agents, the fact that you don’t want Jamie to know about this concerns me greatly.”

“Mr. Ferguson and his firm are NOT targets, but the truth is, we don’t know everyone involved.”

“If there is someone at Allen & Baker who is involved in this, I’d be shocked. I mean seriously shocked.”

“I gave up being shocked years ago,” Agent Stone said. “Anyway, we’d like to know what you know about Brandon Littleton.”

I suppressed a groan and did my best not to show any reaction. I had enough to put Littleton away for years, but THAT would lead them to Peter Scuderi, and I didn’t need THAT kind of attention. And it would also lead them to Anthony, and that could cause no end of trouble for Joyce.

“My chief nemesis for years, until he retired,” I said. “He represented a girl who was part of a major cheating scandal at IIT. I made him look like a fool, and he’s had it in for me ever since. A phony paternity claim; a lawsuit from a failing competitor; a bogus lawsuit on behalf of a client about our billing; and some other stuff relating to NIKA. Why?”

“Prominent lawyers don’t usually bail on successful practices,” Agent Stone said. “His name came up in one of the anti-Mafia task forces and we started poking around. Your name kept coming up.”

“As a target of his, I’m sure. I take it you talked to his former partner, Zimmer?”

“Yes, which only raised more questions because he was evasive about why Mr. Littleton basically fled Chicago with no notice and quit practicing law. Add in some circumstantial evidence of union ties, and an entry in John Lentz’s calendar, and we get very suspicious.”

Lisa? Littleton? John? Something WAY beyond what I had imagined was going on here. And suddenly, I was VERY concerned.

“Then we find out that you obtained a Chicago concealed carry permit,” Agent O’Toole continued, “and that raised even more questions.”

“Why?”

“You met with Mr. Zimmer. Then, Littleton, an attorney with apparent mob ties and links to you, flees the state. Shortly thereafter, you get a nearly impossible to come by permit to carry that pistol I see under your jacket. A bit more research turns up two city permits for significant increases in the security and surveillance systems at your house and business which required construction contracts. You’re clearly worried about something.”

I hadn’t been nearly as smart as I thought I’d been. And now I was in a VERY bad position. I hadn’t kept the reports that Patrick and Katya had sent me - they’d been placed in envelopes and added to the material that Katya was holding on my behalf. The question was, how could I get out of this without making myself a target for Peter Scuderi or Anthony, with Scuderi being the much greater concern.

“I met with Zimmer to see if I could get them to back off,” I said. “They’ve been a thorn in my side for ten years. I had an issue with an employee who they were going to represent and I worked out a deal for that to go away. I’d approached Zimmer in the past to get them to back off, and it hadn’t worked. This time, it did.”

“That doesn’t explain why Littleton would flee.”

“Have you asked him?” I asked.

“Not yet. We don’t want to tip him, or any of the other attorneys we suspect of working with the Outfit, off to our investigation. Why the carry permit and security upgrades?”

“If you check, you’ll see consistent upgrades every few years, all based on recommendations from a security consultant friend of mine, Patrick Shaughnessy. The latest set came about because Jessica is going to become an Attending, and our family income will be high six-figures if you count Jennifer, Josie, Elyse, Michelle, Jessica, Kara, and me. We all live on that property with my seven kids.”

“That explains the security system, but the permit?”

“In just about any other city, it would be easy to get. Here, it required assistance from Alderman Bloom.”

“Campaign donations?”

“If I were to admit that, I’d be admitting a possible felony,” I said, shaking my head.

“We have MUCH bigger fish to fry, trust me. You’re cooperating. We may be a pain in the butt at times, but how far do you think we’d get if we harassed people who voluntarily cooperated.”

“The government isn’t known for being smart OR trustworthy.”

“We know you’re a libertarian, and we remember how you felt about our checking out your Russian friends. Let’s let bygones be bygones. At one point, you admitted knowing Theo Lipari. Are you still in contact with him?”

“I saw him about six months ago when I had a meeting with the union about the membership software we wrote for them. He usually attends those meetings.”

“Have you had any other dealings with him?”

“Not recently,” I said. “We did talk a lot back when I was a college student and those union deals were an important source of income. All of which I reported to the IRS!”

Agent Stone laughed, “We remember. I doubt any other person in the history of Chicago has reported 100% of his cash earnings to the IRS.”

“It kept me out of trouble with you guys and with them,” I said. “I’d say it cost me less than the attorney’s fees I would have paid, not to mention fines and a possible trip to Club Fed.”

“Most people don’t see it that way. Did you know that Theo Lipari is one of the main loan sharks on the South Side?”

This was where I could give a bit, because I had a perfect excuse for knowing - one I could back up if necessary.

“I had a suspicion, yes. I’m pretty sure he runs a sports book, too.”

“How do you know that?” Agent O’Toole asked.

“When I was at IIT, I hung out with some guys from Theta Xi, one of the fraternities there. A couple of the guys were big sports bettors and one of them lost a lot and complained about the ‘vig’ he was paying. His buddy mentioned a ‘Theo’ who was from Hyde Park as their bookie and I put two and two together.”

“Names?”

“Let me think a second,” I said, then a moment later continued. “The big loser was a guy named Arvy Talwar. An Indian guy. I only remember his name because it was so different. The other guy was Irish. Red hair. Joe something. O’Malley? O’Connor? I don’t recall now for sure.”

“And you didn’t think to mention this to us?” Agent Stone asked.

“Mention what? Two college kids gambling and possibly it being with a guy I knew? If you remember, Agent Stone, you were only interested in my Russian girlfriend and her family. You were looking for Reds in my bed, rather than under it, but still...”

They both laughed.

“She was a beautiful young woman, that’s for sure,” Agent O’Toole said.

“She still is. I’m half surprised you aren’t asking about the fact I bought tickets to St. Petersburg for my entire family for this summer. We’re going to see her, her husband, her daughter, and her parents.”

“We’ve moved to the Italian side of the house. The Russian side is way less interesting at the moment.”

“I can see that,” I agreed. “But seriously, I wasn’t really in a position to say anything at that point.”

“And now?”

“I don’t gamble,” I said. “I do play poker with my friends, but that’s not gambling, at least on my part.”

“You win?”

“Penny-ante,” I grinned.

“Unless you’re crossing state lines to do it, that’s a state problem, not a federal problem! We play poker, too. Were you ever tempted to place sports bets?”

“Never,” I said. “Those bets are for suckers. The lines shift around and as a ‘punter’, as my English friends would call it, you have no inside information. That means you get screwed.”

“True.”

“Anyway, I don’t gamble and I borrow money either from banks or financiers, and even that is rare. I know you know my seed capital came from my dad and a family friend, and I’ve borrowed money from Jeri Lundgren. I’ve also lent money to my friend Katy O’Connor, who runs a bed-and-breakfast in Vermont, and to Jackie Phelan, who runs an architectural firm here in Chicago. All on the up-and-up.”

“Let me run a few names by you,” Agent O’Toole said.

“Sure.”

“Frank Calabrese, his brother, Nick, and two sons, Frank and Kurt. Ever hear of them?”

“I think I’ve heard that family name before, but I can’t remember where. It might have been the newspaper.”

“Sorry for jumping around, but back to Littleton. Do you have any idea why he might meet with John Lentz?”

“No. You might ask Lisa Glass. She’s an unwilling guest of the State of Illinois because of her dealings with John Lentz.”

“She told us to, well, go away, to put it in polite terms. It’s not as if we have anything to offer her.”

“I suppose not, given it was a state charge.”

“Back to the unions,” Agent O’Toole said. “Do you have any knowledge of illegal activities?”

“Beyond the stuff that’s in the Trib on an almost daily basis? No. I don’t have any firsthand knowledge.”

“What else is kept on those computers?”

I shrugged, “Just about everything, I guess. Payroll, membership records, correspondence, and other stuff, why?”

“Do they have some sort of central computer?”

“A server? Yes. They’re still using Novell. It lets them share files and printers.”

“We are NOT asking you do to it, but what would it take to make a copy of all their files?”

“There are backup tapes which are created each night. Each one of those has a complete copy of their server.”

“What kind of tape?”

“They use QIC-80 tape drives and tapes. The tape drive runs off the floppy disk controller, so you can pretty much just put the tape drive in any PC. You just need the backup software. They use something called Backup Exec. That’s one of the standard backup packages we recommend. The other ones are NetBackup and NetVault. But Backup Exec is the main one.”

“Is there anything that would prevent us from reading those tapes?”

I shook my head, “If you mean are they password protected or encrypted? The answer is ‘no’. Some of the files might be, but mostly those are susceptible to brute-force methods of breaking the passwords.”

“You can do that?”

I shrugged, “Maybe. The person you really want to talk to would be Sam, who works for me. She’s the one who took over from Greg. You worked with him on the Lentz case. She’s brilliant. Encryption isn’t one of my specialties. I do know a PhD in math who does encryption for a living. She’s married to NIKA’s Eastern Region director.”

“Interesting. So, if we got one of these tapes, all we’d need would be a tape drive and a computer?”

“And the software. But yes. It’s that simple.”

“Thanks,” Agent Stone said. “If you think of anything, if anything comes back to you, about Brandon Littleton, please call us.”

“Agent Stone, your tone and the words you chose say you think I know more than I’m letting on,” I said.

“Obviously. But you’ve been cooperative, so we’ll take your word for it. But if you do remember anything...”

“I’ll call you right away.”

We shook hands and I showed them out, then went up to Elyse’s office. I shut the door behind me.

“Before you ask, I signed a document that forbids me from talking about anything I just heard or anything I just said. And the penalty for violating that agreement is ten years in federal prison.”

“Shit,” Elyse sighed. “Does this increase the risk?”

I shook my head, “No. If it does, I WILL tell you that, I promise.”

“And this isn’t about you or NIKA?”

“You heard them. It’s not.”

“I wish you’d never gotten involved in this in the first place,” she sighed.

“You and me both,” I agreed.

February 8, 1995, Chicago, Illinois

“Do I even WANT to know what you’re doing here?” Doctor Robertson asked.

“Contemplating an addition to the family,” I smirked.

“I think you’re in the wrong place. You’d need a urologist. And even that would be experimental.”

“Not THAT way, Doctor Robertson,” Michelle laughed. “I’m looking for in utero artificial insemination via a sperm bank. Steve’s going to be my childbirth partner and help me raise a child.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me,” Doctor Robertson said. “It should, but I learned a long time ago not to be surprised by anything that goes on in Steve’s life. Are Jessica and Kara aware of this?”

“Yes,” I said. “And supportive.”

“Well, then the first thing we’ll need to do is have you get a thorough physical examination.”

“I’ve had one,” Michelle smirked.

“I don’t mean by STEVE!” Doctor Robertson said, laughing.

“That was LAST night,” Michelle said, laughing with Doctor Robertson. “But I saw our family GP last week for a complete physical and blood work. There were no issues.”

“That’s Kulczycki, right?”

“Yes.”

“OK. Then we just need a current gynecological exam, which I’ll do in a few minutes. I’ll need to have you complete an evaluation to ensure you understand what you’re asking for, are in a proper mental state, and can provide for a child you have.”

“I have an executed child support agreement,” I said, handing over the document Gwen Meyer had prepared for me.

“And I have a letter showing my employment and income,” Michelle said, handing over the letter Elyse had prepared.

“I suppose I could just ask you for the results of the gynecological exam, too, Steve?” Doctor Robertson teased.

“I don’t have the proper equipment to do a Pap smear or a uterine ultrasound,” I grinned. “But otherwise, she’s healthy.”

“I take it you talked with Jessica about what’s necessary?”

“Of course!”

“Well, I don’t see any problem with ethics in this situation, and it’s obvious there aren’t any financial concerns, and I don’t believe you suffer from any mental problems, except, perhaps, your choice of partners.”

“Doc,” I laughed, “every single one of the girls, including Michelle, will agree I’m crazy!”

“I was talking about Michelle’s mental state!” Doctor Robertson laughed. “But in all seriousness, we should be able to quickly go through the consent forms. I don’t see any issues. I’ll do the exam, then sign the forms you’ll need. I can do the procedures if you wish; I’ve had the appropriate training and certification.”

“We’d prefer that,” Michelle said. “As Steve pointed out, you would only give us grief about it in a teasing or joking manner. We might get serious grief from anyone else.”

“That’s probably true. If I didn’t know your family so well, I might question the ethics of doing this. Do you have an idea of what characteristics you want?”

Michelle smiled and tilted her head towards me, “Just like him.”

“Which would give you good odds of the baby looking like the other kids in the house, albeit with your features, rather than Jessica’s, Kara’s, Elyse’s, or Jennifer’s.”

“Exactly,” I said. “We understand about recessive genes, but we like the odds.”

“So do I. OK. Let’s go through the consent form. Steve, you won’t sign it because from the perspective of the State, you have no relationship with Michelle or any blood relationship with the child.”

“Gwen said that would most likely be the case.”

“Does your company’s health insurance cover this?”

“Partly,” I said. “I’m covering the rest. It’s a bit complicated because we’re not married, but Michelle will get some coverage by claiming her partner is sterile, which is technically true.”

“I’m assuming you’re both aware that each treatment has to be done at very specific times, and that might mean dropping everything to come see me.”

“We are,” Michelle said. “And we know that it’s about 50/50 for six treatments.”

“Well, you’ve done all your homework, then.”

Doctor Robertson stepped through the consent forms with Michelle, and after she initialed and signed about two dozen times, the three of us went into an exam room. Michelle disrobed and didn’t bother to put on the gown, causing Doctor Robertson to roll her eyes and smile. She did the Pap smear, then pulled over an ultrasound machine. After spreading gel on Michelle’s stomach, she turned on the machine and put the transducer on the gel and began the exam.