Chapter 43: Peeling the Onion

February 26, 1995, Chicago, Illinois

“Thanks for letting us visit!” Pia said as we hugged just outside security at O’Hare early on Sunday evening.

“You know you’re welcome anytime, and the two little lovebirds over there will be very happy if you do!”

I nodded towards where Jesse and Marta were hugging each other tightly. I took Pia in my arms and hugged her, then held her loosely.

“They’ll get to see each other again in Stockholm, and we’ll try to come visit again next year.”

“Have fun at Disney World!” I said.

“We will. We’re also going to the beach.”

I smirked, “I remember some trips to the beach with you...”

Pia smiled, “I enjoyed that time together. If only things had been different.”

“Would you trade Marta for that?”

“No more than you’d trade Jesse,” she answered, shaking her head. “«Marta, det är dags».” (“Marta, it’s time.”)

“OK, Mama,” Marta replied.

She gave Jesse a quick kiss on the lips, they hugged again, and then Pia gave me a quick kiss, slipped from my arms and took Marta’s hand. They walked to security and put their carry-on bags on the belt, then walked through the metal detectors. On the other side, they turned and waved, and Jesse and I waved back. When Pia and Marta continued down the concourse, Jesse and I turned to walk towards the exit.

“Jesse, I need to make a quick phone call,” I said.

“OK.”

I walked towards a bank of pay phones and pulled a small slip of paper from my pocket.

“Why aren’t you using your cell phone?” Jesse asked.

“I forgot to charge it last night, so the battery is low and I want to have it on in case one of your Aunts needs me.”

“Oh.”

It was a fib, but I hadn’t thought about the fact that Jesse might ask why I wasn’t using my mobile phone. I picked up the handset and dropped a quarter into the slot and dialed the number. The call was answered on the second ring.

“Hi,” I said. “This is Steve Adams.”

“Hi; how are things?” Alfonso asked in his thick, South Side accent.

“A lot warmer than the 25°F on the thermometer. I spoke with the men from the Dirksen Building twice, but we didn’t have anything to talk about.”

“I’ll get the message to him.”

“Thanks.”

I hung up and Jesse and I headed home.

February 27, 1995, Chicago, Illinois

“Steve, there’s a Detective Sergeant Kramer from San Antonio on the phone for you.”

“Thanks, Kimmy. Put him through then please get Melanie Spencer for me as soon as you can.”

“Right away!” she replied, then put the call through.

“Steve Adams,” I said.

“Mr. Adams, this is Detective Sergeant Kramer with the San Antonio Police Department. Do you have a moment to speak with me?”

“About?”

“Brandon Littleton.”

“I won’t speak to you without an attorney present,” I said.

“Mr. Adams, I’m just looking for information.”

“I understand, Sergeant, but I read that Mr. Littleton was murdered and I don’t want to speak to you without an attorney present.”

“Do you have a way to make a conference call?”

“I do. Give me a moment and let me see if I can get her on the phone.”

I pressed ‘hold’ on the phone and looked over to Kimmy who shook her head. I pressed the ‘hold’ button again to return to the call.

“She’s not available at the moment. If you leave your number, I’ll call you back as soon as I get her on the phone.”

He read off a phone number which I repeated back, and then we hung up. Kimmy came to the door of the office as soon as she saw me replace the receiver.

“Melanie is in court this morning,” Kimmy said. “The receptionist said she’d have Melanie call as soon as she’s free.”

“Thanks,” I said.

Kimmy went back to her desk, and as I expected, Penny grilled me about what was going on. I told her it was about Littleton’s murder.

“There had to be a list as long as your ... arm,” she smirked, “of people who wanted to kill him.”

“True. But we are NOT going to say that. I have an ironclad alibi and dozens of witnesses. There’s nothing to worry about.”

She and I went back to work because there was nothing else to do before Melanie called, which she did just before lunch.

“I had a call from a Detective Sergeant Kramer in San Antonio,” I said.

“About Littleton?”

“Yes. Jamie strongly suggested I not speak to them without representation.”

“That’s almost always true, but especially with a murder investigation. How did you leave it with him?”

“That I’d call him back when I had you on the phone. He didn’t seem interested in coming to Chicago and there is no way I’m going to Texas.”

“I have time now. You know the drill, right?”

“Yes. Simple answers. Don’t volunteer anything. Wait for you to tell me it’s OK to answer.”

“Good.”

“Let me see if Kimmy can get him on the call and conference us in.”

I put the call on hold and asked Kimmy to get the detective on the line and join the calls. Two minutes later the three of us were on the phone.

“Detective, this is Melanie Spencer, I’m Mr. Adams’ attorney. What is the nature of your interest in my client?”

“We’re following leads, Ms. Spencer.”

“I’m instructing my client to remain silent unless I specifically permit him to answer. Ask your questions, Detective. Steve, do not answer unless I say you should.”

“Got it,” I said.

“Mr. Adams, how did you know Brandon Littleton?”

“Go ahead and answer, Steve.”

“He sued me, or my company, or both, on five separate occasions and his former firm was just about to represent a disgruntled employee.”

“What were the circumstances of those suits and the outcomes?”

“It’s OK to answer that, Steve. It’s all in the public record.”

“The first suit was when a client of his was involved in a cheating scandal at a university I was attending. His client was expelled and her suit against me dismissed. She lost her suit against the university. The next one was when I was sued for paternity, and in that case, two separate DNA tests showed I was not the child’s father. After that was a suit by a competitor which resulted in a counter-suit, which ended with the competitor dismissing their suit and agreeing to be acquired by my firm. The final instance was a suit for a billing dispute which was settled with no admission of liability. Beyond that, I’m not able to reveal the terms.”

“And the disgruntled employee?”

“Go ahead,” Melanie said.

“She and I met and agreed to settle the case. I also can’t reveal the terms of that settlement.”

“He seems to have been awfully interested in you.”

“That’s not a question, Detective,” Melanie said.

“Sorry. Why do you think he was so interested in you?”

“Don’t answer that Steve,” Melanie said. “Detective, Mr. Littleton was a top litigator in Chicago. He took all kinds of cases. My client can’t possibly know his motivations.”

“When is the last time you spoke to Mr. Littleton?”

“Go ahead, Steve.”

“In court during the lawsuit over the billing dispute, but it was just a greeting.”

“But that case was settled?”

“Go ahead, Steve.”

“Yes.”

“Did you do the negotiations?”

“It’s OK to answer,” Melanie said.

“No. They were conducted by Jamie Ferguson, an attorney who represents my company.”

“With Mr. Littleton?”

“OK,” Melanie said.

“I don’t know. All I know is Mr. Littleton signed the settlement agreement on behalf of his firm.”

“Have you been to Texas?” Detective Kramer asked.

“Steve, only answer that with regard to the last twelve months.”

“Not in the past twelve months,” I said.

“Do you know any reason anyone would want to kill Mr. Littleton?”

“Do NOT answer that question, Steve.”

“Have you spoken with any other law enforcement agency about this matter?”

“You can answer, Steve.”

But I wasn’t sure I COULD answer. I wasn’t sure exactly what the document I signed with the FBI covered, but I sure as heck wasn’t going to say anything that violated it. But I also didn’t want to lie. And that put me in a tough spot. I really needed to talk to Melanie, but I couldn’t do THAT either.

“I decline to answer that question on the advice of other counsel,” I said.

I heard a sharp intake of breath from Melanie, and I knew I’d have to say SOMETHING to her. There HAD to be some kind of attorney-client privilege, and while I didn’t want to involve Jamie, Melanie was a criminal defense attorney, and she’d have an idea of what could be said.

“But your lawyer said you could answer,” he protested.

“She’s not my only lawyer, Detective. I have half-a-dozen lawyers I use in various capacities.”

“Can you account for your whereabouts from 3:00pm to 11:00pm on February 21st?”

“My client already said he wasn’t in Texas, Detective.”

“That wasn’t the question, Ms. Spencer.”

Melanie was quiet for a few seconds, then told me it was OK to answer in detail.

“Absolutely. I worked until 5:00pm, which can be verified by our security system and computer logs, then drove to pick up my wife at Cook County Hospital, which can be verified by their security cameras and a doctor I greeted while waiting at the door of the ER. We went home for dinner and then I taught a karate class to sixteen people from 7:00pm to 8:00pm. After walking home, I spent the evening with my family and two family friends. I was at work just before 8:00am the next morning, which can be shown by our security system and logs. There are scores of witnesses to my whereabouts.”

“Have you spoken to anyone about Mr. Littleton recently?”

“Steve, you can answer, but your answer should not include any conversations with any attorneys.”

“I spoke to my CFO, Elyse Clarke, about the murder.”

“Why?”

“Don’t answer that, Steve.”

“Was there anyone else?”

How could I finesse the question of talking to Zimmer in case somebody knew about that.

“Not since the employment dispute. I spoke to Mr. Zimmer about that. But as I said, I ended up reaching a private settlement agreement with the employee.”

“Do you own any firearms?”

“You can answer that, Steve. It’s public record.”

“Yes. I own a Beretta 9mm for which I have a concealed carry permit.”

“Why do you have a permit?”

“Do NOT answer that, Steve,” Melanie said firmly.

“That’s all the questions I have for the moment, Mr. Adams. I may have more in the future.”

“If you call and speak to Kimmy Bradford, my Executive Assistant, she’ll arrange a time when both Ms. Spencer and I can be on the phone.”

“Thank you,” he said.

We said goodbye and hung up. Right on cue my direct line rang. I picked it up, laughing.

“Hi, Melanie.”

“I think you need to come to my office right now, Mr. Adams.”

“I figured. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

I hung up, went out to Kimmy’s desk and let her know I was going to see Melanie and she could reach me on my cell phone. I let her know I’d grab lunch out, then left the office for the fifteen minute walk to Melanie’s office.

“Spill it, Steve,” she said when I walked into her private office.

“Hi, Melanie,” I grinned. “How are you?”

“Cut the crap, shut the door, and talk.”

I shut the door, then sat down in one of the leather chairs that faced her desk.

“I signed an agreement with the FBI that says I can’t talk to anyone.”

“Who reviewed it?”

“Nobody. I read it. It was simple and straightforward.”

“You can talk to your attorney about anything.”

“Not about this,” I said.

“If you’re the target of a criminal investigation there are NO restrictions on what you can talk to your defense attorney about,” Melanie said.

She opened a drawer and extracted a form. She filled it out and pushed it over to me.

“Excuse me?” I gasped. “First degree capital murder?”

“That is what the Detective from San Antonio is investigating. Sign the representation form. I’ll need a retainer as well. I know you carry cash, and $100 will be sufficient.”

I scribbled my signature on the form and extracted two fifty-dollar bills from my wallet and handed them to her.

“The FBI is looking into a number of things, including union corruption, loan-sharking, corrupt aldermen, and, I hate to say this, corrupt attorneys. That last one means I can’t speak to Jamie.”

“There is NO way Jamie or Allen & Baker are corrupt!”

“You and I know that, and the FBI might even know that, but they don’t ‘know know’ that, if you get my drift.”

“Everyone is a suspect. What else?”

“Ties between Littleton, John Lentz, and Lisa Glass. You put two and two together on THAT one.”

“Littleton was a Mob lawyer?”

“Well, gee, Melanie, most lawyers don’t end up with one to the head and one to the chest, do they?”

“I know you THINK they should! Present company, Jamie, and Gwen excepted.”

“Your husband doesn’t have a very high opinion of ‘slick’ attorneys. And he’s teaching me to shoot!”

“So what do the Feds want from you?”

“Information. My name keeps coming up because I had dealings with ALL those people - the unions, the aldermen, the corrupt lawyers, Lisa, and so on.”

“And you didn’t have an attorney present?”

“No. I fibbed about that to the cop, but I have enough attorneys that he’ll never find out that was a fib. What did you want me to say? That I was legally prohibited from answering on penalty of ten years in jail?”

“Saying that might have been a bad idea,” Melanie allowed. “What did you tell the FBI?”

“There wasn’t much to tell. I documented every single meeting or conversation with the aldermen, and I only met with the corrupt ones on a couple of occasions. You know most of my dealings were with Larry Bloom.”

“Who is as pure as new-fallen snow. What else?”

“That my union contracts were all above board and every dime of income I’ve ever had from them, even before NIKA, was reported to the IRS and I had contracts and records showing what I did for that money. As for Littleton, the entire fucking world knows what was going on between his firm and me, and that now includes the San Antonio PD. And you know they investigated my ties with Lisa, John, and Alex and it was all Days of Our Lives crap, not criminal stuff. And that includes the REIT that we did the property swap with. That was reviewed by three outside firms, plus Allen & Baker and Bruce Grady.”

“You’re squeaky clean, but you have lots of associates who aren’t.”

“So it would seem. It’s all legitimate business. Heck, we used to be heavy into construction and trucking and you know how horribly corrupt those are in Chicago. In fact, you can’t swing a dead cat in this town without hitting a corrupt politician, businessman, or lawyer. And the unions and the Outfit have their fingers in everything. Try plugging in a computer at McCormick Place if you doubt me on that one.”

Melanie laughed, “$35 for a union electrician to plug in your computer. Crazy.”

“Exactly.”

“Do you have any idea who hit Brandon Littleton?”

“A pro,” I said. “Ask Pete or Clayton. One to the head and one to the chest is what they call a ‘double-tap’ and it’s very effective. If it was his wife, I’d expect a gut shot ... or lower.”

Melanie laughed, “Yeah. He had kids, right?”

“Twin daughters. I think they just turned eighteen.”

“Care to tell me how you know THAT?” Melanie asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Smooth, Counselor, very smooth. Opposition research. You know what Elyse proposed as a way to get even with Littleton, right?”

Melanie laughed, “Some things never change. You didn’t...”

“No, of course not. Things have changed in that regard. But that has nothing to do with the situation. What do I tell the FBI?”

“Nothing. You do not have to tell them anything at all about disclosing that agreement to me. In fact, it’s in your best interest NOT to tell them. You do need to be careful what you say to them. Don’t take assurances about not being a target seriously. They’re permitted to lie about that.”

I nodded, “I know, but the FBI and I have a nice working arrangement which Jamie helped set up during the whole Lisa Glass thing.”

“Just be careful about what you say to them.”

“I will. What do you think about the conversation we just had?”

“That if I were a police detective, I’d like you for being involved because Littleton had targeted you. It makes sense. They’ll run down all the leads, run you through NCIC, and see if they can find anything they can use to apply a bit of pressure. Of course, I’m assuming you DIDN’T put a contract out on him.”

“I may have had that idea once or twice, and Jamie can tell you that, but I didn’t. And I didn’t say anything publicly about him other than he was a royal pain in my butt. Heck, I’m on good terms with every single person he represented against me!”

“Including that girl from the cheating scandal?”

“Yes. Callie and I buried the hatchet not long ago. She’s working for M&M Engineering now. I talked to Melissa about hiring her and she did. And you know Jen is there now.”

“And the employee who stole your source code?”

“Same thing. He learned his lesson and I’ve given him a referral as well. I don’t hold grudges. And that includes Lisa Glass.”

“Your mom.”

“Not even her. Stephanie still holds a serious grudge, but my mom has her problems just as I have mine. I decided to treat her civilly because of my dad. And that allowed her to back off just enough for my wives, Elyse, and Jennifer to allow her to see her grandkids. Call it an armistice.”

“You’ve navigated that pretty well since you got out of the house. But back to the matter at hand, do not speak to ANYONE about Brandon Littleton without me present, either in person or on the phone.”

“And if the FBI were to ask under that non-disclosure agreement?”

“That’s a tricky situation. You don’t want to create an adversarial relationship if one doesn’t exist, and telling them you revealed this to me would do exactly that. You’ve dealt with them enough with Jamie and Jack to know the kinds of questions you shouldn’t answer. Take your cues from today’s call. But err on the side of caution. If you have even a single stray thought that says they’re targeting you for ANYTHING, stop the interview, call me, and we’ll figure out what to do.”