Chapter 32: I Am Going to Shoot Your Father!

October 11, 2002, Chicago, Illinois

🎤 Birgit

"I wish our flights lined up," I said to Dad on Friday morning as we cuddled after running.

"You have to be in school, and I need to be in Cincinnati before you get out of school."

"I could miss a day, and it wouldn't make a bit of difference!" I declared.

"Yes, you could," Dad agreed. "But is that the responsible thing to do when it's not necessary?"

"Define 'necessary'!" I demanded.

Dad laughed, "It does not mean 'whatever the Empress of the Universe demands'!"

"Says you!" I retorted.

"On that topic," Dad said, "are you sure going to New York is the correct decision?"

"No, but it's the one I made," I said. "You've said sometimes you have to make a decision even when you aren't sure."

"Yes, I have, and so long as you've thought it through, that's fine. You've been honest with her?"

"You mean about liking boys? Yes, absolutely."

But I liked sex a lot, and I'd enjoyed making out with Julie, as had Peter, and she'd let me lick her but was really hesitant to go further, and I'd made sure neither Peter nor I had pressured her, and he'd been happy with a blowjob and fucking while Julie watched. She was really nervous about the idea of Peter being inside her, but I was pretty sure she'd eventually work her way up to that.

"Just be careful, Pumpkin."

"I will. Do you have a date for the hotel opening?"

"I do. Anthony's niece, Aurora."

"And you're going to christen the hotel?" I asked with a smirk.

"None of your business, nosy daughter!" Dad declared.

"That's a 'yes'," I giggled. "I should be your date!"

"Which would guarantee I didn't help christen the hotel!"

"You're just no fun, Dad!" I declared.

"So you and Penny say!"

"We both love you, Dad!"

"Of that, I'm positive," Dad agreed.

[Greater Cincinnati, Ohio]
🎤 Steve

I had left the house immediately after breakfast and driven to Midway, where I'd caught my flight to Cincinnati, or rather to Erlanger, Kentucky, where the airport was located, and then rented a car and driven into the city for lunch with Ben van Hoek, Jocelyn Mills, and Deborah Rice. After lunch, I made a foray into what had formerly been enemy territory, the newly renamed Volstead & Associates.

"I was surprised at the request for a meeting," Franklin Volstead said.

"I don't like having enemies," I replied. "In nearly every case, there is a way forward with mutual benefits, and I like to find those. Consider it making an offer to compromise in order to obtain a good result for both sides in a dispute. It's also the case that Cindi asked me to make a courtesy call, even though I'm not involved in day-to-day operations."

"I know many attorneys who want nothing to do with being managing partner in a law firm because it takes them away from the law, sometimes completely. Here, we hire an office manager with expertise in law firm administration, and our partners make policy, and the office manager implements it, along with handling all the administrative tasks that go with running any corporation."

"The stuff I absolutely hate," I replied. "My sister and Elyse live for that stuff, so I leave it to them!"

"You're still involved in strategic decisions, right?"

"I'm Stephanie's closest advisor, but that doesn't take much time."

"You handled the takedown of the Brauns with aplomb," Franklin Volstead said. "A deftly executed strategy with perfect results."

"Thanks."

"You'd have made an excellent attorney."

"You don't have to turn around and insult me!"

Franklin Volstead laughed, "A sentiment held by many who chose not to enter law as a career. But your logic and rhetorical skills are exactly the attributes that make a good attorney, along with your grasp of balancing outcomes with costs."

"You've missed the part where I've taken the 'if you give a mouse a cookie' approach to things, and object to settling things which are profoundly wrong, but which the insurance company wants to pay off to prevent some outside chance of losing. But it ends up the same way — they still lose."

"That is one way to look at it."

"My dad's view is that it's all a cost of doing business," I observed. "I don't agree. Well, that's not true, actually. It is a cost of doing business; it's just not a legitimate one. The insurance companies should never have begun paying off these suits because, in the end, that encouraged questionable suits, which they settled in turn. Rinse, repeat. And I suspect you agree, at least from your client's perspective, given you aren't a firm of plaintiff's tort attorneys."

"You really struggled to find a way not to say 'ambulance chasers'!"

"Because it's beyond that, it's the questionable tort suits, and I'm sure you encounter them all the time."

"Settling provides a known outcome; jury trials are crapshoots."

"A refrain I hear from attorneys all the time," I replied. "And I acknowledge that. But in trying to open the courthouse door, we've invited in all manner of what amount to bogus lawsuits, many of which are settled to get what you call a 'known outcome'."

"You do have to admit there is value to that."

I smiled and nodded, "There is. I don't calculate the value proposition the same way most people do. If you look only at the short term, then perhaps the expected value is on the side of settling, but if you look at the long-term, overall results, I suggest it is not."

"Let me counter with an argument, if I may."

"You may, of course."

"Do you agree that business requires predictability and consistency?"

"I would say those are vital to being able to plan."

"And that means that in addition to the law being interpreted consistently, it also ought to have predictable outcomes."

"Absolutely."

"Do civil jury trials produce consistent, reliable, and predictable results?"

"Predictably bad," I chuckled. "I get your point, and I understand it, as that is, in effect, my dad's argument when he calls it a 'cost of doing business'. But, in my mind, it accepts a bad result on the off chance of a worse result."

"And you make tradeoffs like that all the time, correct? Sometimes, you accept a less than optimal option to prevent a truly bad one."

"Sure, but you base it on the chances of that very bad outcome actually occurring."

"Didn't you just agree that civil trial outcomes are unpredictable? And if so, you cannot properly judge the true risk."

"You sound very much like Liz Crane," I said with a smile. "She makes the same basic argument."

"It's a fundamental principle of advising clients we represent, whether an attorney has hundreds of clients, like my firm, or one client, like Liz. Our goal is always to prevent the worst outcome while seeking the best."

"Not far off my goal of doing as little harm as possible."

"That's exactly how you should approach the law. In an ideal world, I would agree with you, but we don't live in an ideal world. I'll leave that to college professors and clergymen! You and I have to live in the world as it actually exists, not as we'd like it to be."

"True."

"And that's the value of our Common Law system, by the way. It makes our legal reality consistent from case to case, and I suspect, strongly, you believe overturning precedent should be rare."

"Unless it is clearly wrong," I replied. "Dred Scott and Plessy v. Ferguson come immediately to mind, though I could reel off a bunch of others."

Franklin Volstead smiled, "The Lochner Era is dead and buried, and you won't get back to it!"

I laughed, "It's not just that, but more egregious things such as Wickard v. Filburn and Reynolds v. Sims."

"And you object to my comment about making an excellent attorney? Not many laymen would know of those two cases. I'm curious — Loving v. Virginia? Griswold v. Connecticut?"

"Yes, and on the latter, I know all about the Comstock Act!"

"I rest my case!" Franklin declared with a smile.

"I'll admit you aren't the first person to say that. OK to change topics and ask how our software is working for you?"

"I would have assumed Cindi filled you in before you set the meeting."

"She did," I replied, "but sometimes people tell different stories depending on who asks."

"It was, for all intents and purposes, a 'drop-in replacement' as Cindi promised it would be. Your two engineers from Pittsburgh did a great job of performing the conversion over the weekend, and we had no downtime at all. Training needs were minimal because the screens were configured to match the old system. In addition, our overall licensing fees are lower because we opted for the non-Microsoft servers. Support has been excellent, as well, so overall, I'd call it completely successful."

I smiled, "That is what I like to hear."

Our brief meeting concluded, and I left his office and walked back to van Hoek, Mills, and Rice so I could change out of my business suit and into my new 'gangster' attire.

"That's just awesome!" Deborah said, seeing me come out of the lavishly appointed men's room.

"Thanks. I figured I should do my best to fit the theme."

"Do you have a gun moll lined up?"

"I do. Anthony's niece, whom I met on a previous trip."

Deborah laughed, "Of course! Have fun! And it was good to see you!"

"You, too!"

I left the office and walked to my rental car for the drive across the Ohio River to Newport, where the Marble Palace was located. Anthony had reserved one of the two larger suites for my use, as he had gone with the 'two penthouse' option we'd discussed. One of those penthouses had been reserved for a year by a Cincinnati Reds player who had been traded from the West Coast for his and his family's use.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Adams," the valet said when I pulled up.

I wondered how he knew, but then I saw a set of photos on the valet stand when the attendant filled out the ticket for me, and the bellman retrieved my bag from the passenger seat.

"I'll escort you inside, Don Stephen!" the bellman, who looked to be Italian, said.

Anthony was laying it on thick, but it just seemed like the right thing to do.

"Nice suit!" I heard from just to my right.

"Hi, Connie," I said. "Thanks."

"That's a new fedora, too, right?" she asked, indicating the fedora I had in my hand.

"Yes. I always wear black, but white with a navy blue ribbon seemed a better choice with the double-breasted navy blue pinstripe gangster suit! Nice touch having the valet have pictures and the bellman calling me 'Don Stephen'."

"You're the only 'Don'," Connie replied. "But all the VIPs have their photos with the valet and front desk. You'll just need to sign and get your room keys; no credit card imprint is necessary. I wouldn't even make you sign, but local ordinances require it."

"Thanks. Are they old-style warded keys?"

"There are too few possible configurations for them to be secure, so the doors have them, but you also need to insert a keycard before you can turn the warded key. The keycard is reset between each guest."

"I hadn't considered the limits of warded keys, but I'm glad you found a way to use them."

"It's similar to the fake gas lighting, where we used period fixtures, but incandescent bulbs which are made to simulate gas lights."

"Cool."

"If you need anything at all, just ask. Aurora should be here in about an hour."

"Thanks, Connie; I appreciate it."

"You're welcome! This wouldn't have been possible without your investment."

I went to the reception desk, signed for the room, and the clerk handed the bellman a pair of warded keys and a pair of keycards. We walked to the elevator, which had fully modern works but a classic car, complete with an elevator operator, and rode up to the seventh floor, one floor below the two penthouses.

"The locks are a combined electronic and keyed system," the bellman said. "You insert the plastic card into this slot, the light turns green, and then you can turn the key."

He demonstrated.

"Got it," I said. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Do you need any further assistance?"

"No, thank you," I said, pressing a twenty-dollar bill into his hands.

"Thank you, Don Stephen!" he said, then left.

The room was perfectly period with two exceptions — the flat-screen TV and top-of-the-line stereo system. It had turned out that the plasma TVs had not come down enough in price to put them in all the guest rooms, so they were only in the penthouses and the larger suites. That had been a choice Anthony had made to keep the project within budget, and I'd concurred. TVs were something which could easily be upgraded in the future as prices came down and technology changed.

There were three phones in the suite, two for 'show', which had rotary dials and looked as if they'd come right out of the 1920s, while the third one was a modern phone with TouchTone buttons to facilitate using services that required them, such as telephone calling cards. There was also a modern ethernet jack, which provided internet access, something I had suggested and Anthony had implemented. The small refrigerator in the suite was also modern but was hidden inside a period oak cabinet.

I unpacked my bag, used the bathroom, then left the room. I rode the elevator down to the lobby, went to reception, and asked for Anthony. I was directed to the restaurant, where I found him speaking with some staff members. He acknowledged me, finished his conversation, then came over to shake my hand.

"Welcome! I love the suit!"

"Thanks!"

"Did you see the flower shop?"

"No. I left my car with the valet and came in the front entrance. I'll wander around and see everything later. I just wanted to say 'hi'."

"If there's anything at all you need, just ask. Aurora should be here in about thirty minutes."

"Thanks! I think the only thing missing from my outfit is the Tommy gun!"

"We considered toy guns, but after speaking with the local patrol sergeant, decided it was a bad idea. Are you carrying?"

"No. I don't ever carry outside of Illinois, where I have my licenses and permits. If I had an occasion where I thought I might need a firearm, I'd speak to a local attorney before I made any decision. Also, I flew down, and even in checked bags, they can create problems, and I didn't check a bag."

"Is there anyone left in the Southside Mob?"

"Theo and a couple of other mid-level guys who are union and were pretty much left alone by the Feds; all the top guys are either inside or on parole. The black and Hispanic gangs have taken over everything except unions and trucking, and nobody is paying protection to the Italian or Irish mobs at this point."

"Same here," Anthony said. "My grandfather's generation was really the last, and you know Cincinnati wasn't exactly a major player in the scheme of things. Back to the Marble Palace, we have a charity gambling setup in the conference room with craps, roulette, and blackjack. If you want a cash poker game, I can set one up."

"Not this time," I replied. "I take it the usual casino is closed tonight?"

"Yes. Too many eyes, so to speak. The last thing I want is some snot-nosed reporter snooping around. They're worse than the cops!"

"I'm no more a fan of law enforcement than you are! Right now, I have IRS agents and SEC investigators snooping into my books."

"What happened?"

"Most likely fallout from the takeover of one of my competitors. One of the founders of the original company objected to the buyout and the offered price. I backed him into a corner with a strategic bankruptcy filing, and I suspect he tried to tip off the IRS and SEC. We'll be OK because the most they'll find would be an accounting or record-keeping error, and those would result in small fines and possibly back taxes, depending on the error. We don't play any games with questionable tax avoidance strategies, nor do we do anything that should raise questions with the SEC, but, alas, here we are."

"I get audited about every three years," Anthony said. "They don't trust businesses with a large turnover and low profit margins like restaurants, especially with cash transactions and tips to employees. The hotel won't be as much of a problem, though there is still the tipping issue."

"The government has to get their cut, and they don't trust anyone. Of course, if the tax code and rules weren't such a mess, it would help, but the government has no impetus to be either efficient or clear, as there is no recourse against the government except perhaps they don't collect quite as much money or can't put you in jail. Heck, in most cases, you can't sue to collect damages, even if the government agent has committed a crime!"

"As you say, the Mafia has to deliver while the government does not!"

"And the government does not like competition, so they have to get rid of the efficient operation!" I replied with a grin.

"I have some things to do if you don't mind. I'll see you at dinner, then in the casino."

"Thanks."

We shook hands, and I returned to the hotel, then went to check the flower shop, which was a fantastic replica of a 1920s flower shop, similar to Schofield's Flowers, Dean O'Banion's shop in Chicago. As I'd suggested, Anthony had given a concession to a local flower shop. A sign indicated that they could put flowers in a guest room, so I paid for a vase of mixed flowers, which they promised would be delivered by housekeeping within the hour.

I walked back into the hotel proper, then went to check out the conference room, which was set up as a period gambling establishment, complete with antique gaming tables and roulette wheels. I decided I'd play craps later on because the whole image of Aurora blowing on the dice for luck was something that made me chuckle.