Chapter 39: Things That Suck

February 7, 1996, Chicago, Illinois

“Tiger, do you remember a conversation we had with Doctor Green about two years ago?”

“We had so many!” I said with a laugh. “Which one?”

“About what might happen if Michelle left.”

“That we’d need to find a new equilibrium?”

“Yes, and do you remember what Kara said?”

“Yes, in response to Doctor Green’s question about whose equilibrium, she said it was mine, and that I was the focus of the relationships, and that if I was well-balanced and happy, the relationships would be well-balanced and happy.”

“That’s why.”

“So long as you’re sure,” I replied.

“I am. And it’s obvious that Michelle isn’t the right person, even though we were sure she was.”

“And you think Maria Cristina is?”

“From everything I’ve seen, yes. And we still have a few months to make sure. I think we’re doing the right thing. The kids like her, Kara and I like her, and you like her. She needs our help, and we need the equilibrium. And, all things being equal, I haven’t changed my opinion that fewer dalliances are better.”

“Speaking of that, what about an STD test?”

“Let us take care of that,” Kara said. “You worry about developing your relationship with her.”

“I will.”

“You know,” Jessica said thoughtfully, “I think part of the problem with Michelle was our estrangement. When she came back from the monastery to find me gone, she felt she had a real chance to become your wife.”

“Maybe,” I said. “I still couldn’t have fathered a child with her.”

“No, but you would have treated any child she had as your own; you agreed to do that before she decided to leave.”

“True.”

We arrived at the hospital where Kara and I kissed and hugged Jessica, then started home when Jessica went into the ER.

“Are you having second thoughts?” Kara asked.

“I’ve had second thoughts from the start,” I said.

“And you intend to hold me for the longest time?” Kara teased.

“Billy Joel lyrics aside, yes, of course! But seriously, I have had second thoughts.”

“You didn’t really have any with Samantha.”

“That just felt different, even though she was a bit younger than Maria Cristina.”

“Remember what I said - you can always say ‘no’.”

“I just want to make sure I’m doing the right thing for us, for me, and for her.”

February 10, 1996, Chicago, Illinois

“That’s a very interesting question,” Pete said in response to me relaying Jesse’s request on Saturday morning.

“I’m totally NOT surprised he got your copy of Super/System!” Kurt laughed. “My main concern is having to compete against TWO Adams now, and four or five in the future!”

“Including Birgit!” Brian laughed. “That’s pretty funny, actually. I can see her ‘crashing’ Guys’ Night!”

“I think we need to ask ourselves about the other boys,” Dave said thoughtfully. “Even if Jesse is mature enough to handle it, and I’m not saying he isn’t, once we start letting any of the kids attend, the others are going to start asking. I think we need some kind of general rule.”

“I will point out something important,” I said. “And that is we’re all trying to raise our kids to be responsible adults and that means treating them as adults as they move through their teenage years. Granted, they need to be responsible enough to have the freedom I’m talking about, but if we blanket say nobody under eighteen or twenty-one, what message are we sending to the kids?”

“What about drinking?” Ed asked.

“In Illinois it’s legal for a parent to serve their child alcohol at home,” Karl said. “To avoid any gray areas, we’d have to have a rule that only a dad could serve a kid alcohol and no sharing. But I think we’d be better off saying nobody under twenty-one could drink. Otherwise Steve is at extreme risk from an overzealous prosecutor.”

“You mean like with ‘constructive possession’?” Bo asked.

“Exactly,” Karl said. “This is one of those risks which we can’t really take. It’s OK if Steve wants to let his kids drink responsibly at home, such as a glass of wine with dinner, but a party is a very different thing.”

“So, what about letting them attend?” Dave asked.

“It’s not a problem so long as they don’t drink. Just being there isn’t an issue. I tend to agree with Steve, though I’d set the age at fifteen. How old is Jesse now? Ten?”

“In less than two weeks, yes.”

“I’m curious, how would he buy in?” Eduardo asked.

“He gets an allowance, and he’s a freakin’ miser!” I laughed. “He probably couldn’t play every time unless he starts winning.”

“And thus my nightmare scenario comes to pass!” Kurt laughed. “But I’m thinking fifteen is a good age.”

“I agree,” Pete said.

“Jesse is going to be singularly pissed off,” I said. “But I’ll take care of it.”

“You know there is one thing we could do,” Howard said. “Let the older boys have their own game. You know, have them toss in five bucks or something. I’m sure they’d be happy to teach each other. Say, eight and up?”

“I think they’d love it,” I said. “It’s not what Jesse wants, but I could probably sell that to him. We set up a separate table, let them play, then they all go back to the coach house with the other kids.”

“That sounds like a really good compromise,” Clayton said. “I don’t have any kids, but if I did, I think that would be about right.”

“Are you and Charlie planning any?” Brian asked.

Clayton shrugged, “It’s under negotiation. I don’t have to spend nine months carrying the kid nor breast feed him for a year afterwards! I figure another year or so and she’ll be ready. We have a few years before she hits the magic ‘35’ number. What about you and Samantha?”

“I think we should at least get married first!” he laughed. “But she also needs to finish her degree. Given everything she’s involved in between work and school, she couldn’t do what Kara did and have a baby during the Summer between semesters.”

“Just one?” I asked.

“To start with! I’m not insane!”

“Hey, I resemble that remark!” I chuckled.

“Two seems like a good number to me,” Brian replied. “I think Howard agrees.”

He laughed, “Jeri told me about her mom’s views on that, but said she’d prefer two.”

“I think I’d take the opposite position from Margaret Lundgren on any topic you care to mention!” I replied.

“Same here!” he laughed. “Pete, are you and Melanie planning another?”

He shook his head, “One kid occupies ALL of our free time! Besides, Jonathan has a couple of dozen cousins to hang out with if he feels lonely being an only child!”

After breakfast, I headed home, and joined Kara, Jessica, Birgit, and Stephie for karate. After lunch, Birgit accompanied me to Racine to work with Molly and her students. The session went well, and afterwards, Birgit talked to some of the kids while Molly and I went to her office.

“What happened to Mitchell?” I asked.

“He was here for his usual classes this week, and I expected him to be here this afternoon. Do you want me to call him?”

“If he didn’t let you know in advance he wouldn’t be here; that’s the usual procedure for brown belts and above. The goal is to instill in them a sense of duty to the dojo. I keep Sensei Jim apprised of my schedule and if it changes, I call him. It’s a habit your students should develop, and it’s one that will serve them well in life outside the dojo as well.”

“Should I call him now?”

“No, you can wait until after Birgit and I leave. How are things with your police commander?”

“Brett? Just fine, actually. He enjoys Wisconsin beaver!”

“TMI!” I laughed.

“Oh, please! You should be happy I’m getting laid!”

“If you’re happy, I’m happy. Does he have kids from his first marriage?”

“A son who’s eleven and lives with his mom in Wauwatosa, which is near Milwaukee.”

I nodded, “I know where it is. I drove through it when I was visiting Waukesha County when they were a customer of NIKA about a decade ago.”

“How often will you come up in the future?”

“Probably once a month,” I said. “And we’ll expect you and your students in Chicago four times a year. And obviously, any of them are welcome at any time.”

“Can we have lunch together one Tuesday a month?”

“Sure. Just let me know. You can call me directly, or call Kimmy to get it on my calendar. And now I should get my daughter before she forms a revolutionary cadre in your dojo! Oh, and before I forget, it’s a month past Marcia’s birthday and she hasn’t done a THING, which to me indicates your assumption is incorrect.”

Molly shrugged, “I guess I was wrong. Sorry.”

We exchanged a hug and I left her office to find Birgit holding court with four kids in the ten to twelve age group. I got ‘the look’ for interrupting her, but we needed to get home because I needed to get to Jesse’s hockey game, and after dinner, to the closing night of The Pirates of Penzance, where Matthew was part of the chorus of pirates.

February 12, 1996, Chicago, Illinois

I was jarred awake by the shrill electronic warble of the telephone. I slid out of bed and padded across the room to answer it, noting that it was 2:48am.

“Steve Adams,” I said when I picked up the receiver, my voice raspy from just having woken up.

“Mr. Adams? This is the Alarm Detection Emergency Response Center. We received an alarm from your building on Van Buren Street in Chicago four minutes ago. The Chicago Police Department has been notified and they are responding.”

“Thank you. I’ll head there right now.”

I hung up and turned to see Kara sitting up in bed.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“An alarm at the office. The police are on their way and I’m going to meet them.”

“Should someone go with you?”

I shook my head, “Go back to sleep. The police will be there. And I always have my ‘friend’ with me.”

Kara gave me a hard stare, but settled back down onto the bed while I quickly dressed. I kissed her, then headed out of the house, stopping to temporarily disable the alarm, then rearming it, and got into my car. The drive to the West Loop was quick, as there was no traffic, and as I approached the building, I saw three squad cars with their ‘Mars bars’ activated, casting a strange blue glow on the slightly damp streets and the buildings.

I decided my best approach was to pull into my parking spot and approach an officer on foot. Just as I was getting out of my car, my mobile phone rang.

“Mr. Adams? This is Mack Walsh, supervisor at Alarm Detection.”

“How can I help you, Mr. Walsh?”

“I wanted to let you know that someone attempted to bypass the system with a master keycard, but entered eight incorrect codes. They gave up when the alarm tripped.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“You’re welcome.”

I disconnected the call and dropped my phone back into my pocket. I walked carefully down the alley to the street, then holding my hands away from my body, approached a uniformed Chicago Police officer.

“I’m Steve Adams, the owner of the business and the building,” I said.

“Good morning, Mr. Adams. We checked the building and found someone had entered through the fire-escape door in the back of the building. Two detectives and two patrol officers are inside. If you go around to the front of the building, there are two patrol officers who will allow you to enter the building.”

“Thanks.”

I realized I hadn’t looked up, and that I’d most likely missed a patrol officer standing guard outside the fire escape door on the second floor. I walked around to the front where I saw two officers. I approached them the same as I had the one by the door, and identified myself. They asked for ID, which I showed them, and then they allowed me to use my key to open the door. One of the officers escorted me inside where we found the detectives.

“This is Mr. Adams, the owner,” the uniformed cop announced.

“Detective Matteson,” the female detective said, extending her hand, which I shook.

“What did you find?”

“Nothing, really. They came in through the fire escape, apparently failed to disarm the system, and left before the first patrol car arrived about two minutes after the alarm. May I see your permit and CCL, please?”

I smiled and carefully pulled my wallet from my pocket and handed her my FOID, CCL, Chicago Handgun permit, and Chicago concealed firearm permit. She reviewed them, then handed them back.

“Would you mind if my partner held onto that firearm while we walk around? We’ll give it back. You aren’t in violation, but we’d prefer you weren’t armed.”

I carefully slipped the Beretta from the holster and handed it to the male detective.

“Thanks,” she said. “Can we look at the videotapes?”

I nodded and led them to the computer room which was locked. I used my card to open the door, and walked over to the console for the closed-circuit television cameras. I ejected the tape and replaced it with a fresh one, then slipped the first tape into the VCR. I rewound to the correct point and we watched as two masked and gloved men came down the alley and climbed the fire escape. They reappeared at the alarm panel on the first floor. They inserted a card key and tried a code. When that didn’t work, one of them pulled a small notebook from his jacket and they tried several more codes before leaving. I couldn’t tell if they were the same two from the previous break-in, but they seemed to be.

“Looks like they knew we’d be here,” Detective Matteson said. “In and out in under two minutes. What’s the delay for disarming your alarm?”

“Forty-five seconds,” I said. “Mainly because there is no keypad in the lobby. It’s inside the first door, so they’d have to come downstairs to access either that panel or the one by the side door if they didn’t jimmy the side door, which is unlikely given we reinforced it last time.”

“The timing looks as if they knew they couldn’t disarm it, and left as soon as it tripped. The first patrol car was here less than three minutes from when it tripped. Officer Lopez was about four blocks away, so the only delay was however long it took your alarm company to call us and the dispatcher to relay the call. May I take this tape?”

“Absolutely. How did they get in the fire escape?”

“Nothing is broken or damaged, so I’d guess a fireman’s key. They aren’t all that hard to come by if you have the right connections. That door doesn’t have a regular key and we found it unlocked, which is how we got inside. We checked that it closes properly and locks properly. The crash bar works.”

I nodded, “We just had a fire inspection a month ago. Those two guys are roughly the same build as from the previous break-in.”

“You’re sure about that?”

I shrugged, “I’m not positive, but they sure look similar. Detective, is there anything I can do about that fire escape?”

She shook her head, “You can ask the Fire Marshal, but you can’t block or lock the door in such a way that it can’t be opened with the crash bar from the inside or the fireman’s key from the outside. Is that door alarmed?”

“There’s a motion sensor in the hallway, but the door itself isn’t alarmed. I’m sure the motion sensor worked because the red light on the alarm panel shows it to have tripped the alarm. Unfortunately, as far as I’m aware, there’s no way for this system to have variable times. I’ll have to talk to our security consultant and see if we can set the upstairs motion sensors to zero delay. I doubt it, because it’s a non-zoned system.”

“You might want to upgrade. This is your second break-in.”

“Thanks for the advice. Is there anything left for you to do?”

“Not really. They wore gloves, we have photos of everything and nothing appears amiss. Do you want to take a quick walk around to make sure?”

I nodded, and I followed her out of the computer room. We walked around the offices and as she’d said, nothing was amiss. We went back downstairs and joined her partner, Detective Alvarez. We spent about ten minutes completing the report, then I reset the alarm system, and left the building with the officers.

“We’ll run patrol cars past the building several times over the next few nights,” Detective Matteson said. “It won’t do much, but it is a minor deterrent.”

“When can I get a copy of the report for my files?”

“Tomorrow. We’ll write it up when we get back to the station. It’ll be entered into the system and you can get a printout sometime after 1:00pm.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Alvo, you can return his firearm to him.”

Detective Alvarez handed me my gun, which I put in the holster. We all shook hands, and I headed back to my car. I replayed the images from the video in my mind, and realized I hadn’t seen the CPD pin on either black jacket. That didn’t necessarily mean anything, but it was interesting. The question was, what to do about it.

As I drove home, I thought about calling Ted Farley or Katya, but decided to wait until morning, as there really wasn’t much that could be done before business hours. When I arrived home, I let myself in, disarmed and rearmed the alarm, and then headed to my study. There was no point in going back to sleep. I thought about letting Kara know I was home, but if she’d fallen back asleep, there was no point in waking her.

Birgit found me in the study when she got up and we cuddled a bit before I had to leave to run with Gina. When I arrived home, Kara was awake and asked about the alarm as I got into the shower.

“Someone broke in again,” I said. “But this time all they did was try to disarm the alarm, then leave.”

“Why?”

“Well, I’m guessing they know about the dedicated circuit and they were trying to get lucky with the codes. And then they left because they knew CPD would arrive.”

“Do you know what they want?”

I shook my head, “No, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it was related to the issue Lisa Glass had a few weeks ago.”