It's tricky, asking for information. You can never tell what's going to make someone defensive, and defensive to hostile is a short, quick step. This business is tricky -- in some situations, like this one, we're hired to be adversaries.
Mrs. X met me for breakfast, looking about 15 years younger than usual in jeans and fleece. She was unfazed by my questions about Emily F and her child, and told me that the child was her brother's. I didn't even know she had a brother -- one of those things I didn't know enough to ask. Half-brother, as it turns out, the family black sheep. Later in the day I was able to track him down, confirm the story. Even if it's not true -- and I have no way to know -- this is all very plausible, enough to deflect any media attention.
So what's the Senator worried about? Not sure how much more time to spend on this. I asked S., who said that decision was up to the client. Decided to go back even further; Dorothy brought me a stack of old yearbooks, and I'll chase down some college buddies tomorrow.
Home at a reasonable hour -- cherry blossoms are close to peak -- Godfather II on cable. Good to spend an evening at home for once.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
Client 09-31, Day 15
Up much too early to catch a flight back to DC. Big revelation of the trip: Emily F. has a baby, not yet a year old. Advantage of a small city was that I ran into her -- with the baby -- at the Senator's church yesterday, took them to brunch after. She had little to say about the baby's father, other than that he was an old friend, and not currently in their lives. I'm paid to be suspicious; was it my imagination, or did that baby look like Senator X? The dates fit, roughly.
She lives well for someone with no visible means of support. Texted Dorothy to ask who owns that condo; got a rude text back reminding me that she doesn't work on Sunday. Hey, if I'm working on Sunday... she must have done something yesterday, because she had the answer when I got in this morning. Emily's condo is owned by a trust -- and the trustee is Mrs. X. What the hell --? Called her, asked if we could talk.
The name that keeps coming up is the campaign adviser from the early days, though he doesn't seem to be in the home district any more. Google turned up nothing after 2004, and Dorothy checked death records database; he's still alive.
Reported in to the Senator tonight, a waste of time and annoying to both of us. His campaign consultant RG seems to have inherited the "inseparable" status. I asked straight-out about EF's baby, got a straight-out denial. It took me two weeks to find them, and will take a resourceful reporter even less time. He shrugged, said she wasn't hiding, and asked why she would be. It's a point.
Surprise on the way home: a call from Mrs. X, suggesting breakfast at Eastern Market in the morning. Seems a little down-scale for her, but maybe she figures no one will recognize her there.
She lives well for someone with no visible means of support. Texted Dorothy to ask who owns that condo; got a rude text back reminding me that she doesn't work on Sunday. Hey, if I'm working on Sunday... she must have done something yesterday, because she had the answer when I got in this morning. Emily's condo is owned by a trust -- and the trustee is Mrs. X. What the hell --? Called her, asked if we could talk.
The name that keeps coming up is the campaign adviser from the early days, though he doesn't seem to be in the home district any more. Google turned up nothing after 2004, and Dorothy checked death records database; he's still alive.
Reported in to the Senator tonight, a waste of time and annoying to both of us. His campaign consultant RG seems to have inherited the "inseparable" status. I asked straight-out about EF's baby, got a straight-out denial. It took me two weeks to find them, and will take a resourceful reporter even less time. He shrugged, said she wasn't hiding, and asked why she would be. It's a point.
Surprise on the way home: a call from Mrs. X, suggesting breakfast at Eastern Market in the morning. Seems a little down-scale for her, but maybe she figures no one will recognize her there.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Client 09-31, Day 12
Started the day with the local paper: another rant from the columnist who hates X so much. Seems like steady work ...
Emily F. was the day's objective, though. Called first, got the machine again. Drove over to visit in person, thwarted by a security gate. She lives in a gated complex, pretty nice for someone who doesn't appear to have a current job (Dorothy checked). Family money?
Here's a tip for anyone worried about being investigated: the fastest way to make us go away is to be available and answer our questions. If you duck me, all it does is make me wonder why.
Dorothy hooked me up with a golf tournament tomorrow morning. I hate golf, but it's a way to spend four hours getting local gossip.
Spent the afternoon at the Senator's district office, talking to the district rep about campaign strategies; where's the opposition based, who's likely to try dirty tricks, etc. He mentioned the columnist again, and said he hangs out at a bar near the Capitol.
Headed to the bar after the workday, had no trouble finding the columnist. Right out of an old movie -- made me wonder whether he thought of himself that way. Bitter man. Bought him a few rounds but actually got more out of the bartender, who went to high school with Emily F. He called her, left a message asking if she wanted to have drinks tomorrow.
Emily F. was the day's objective, though. Called first, got the machine again. Drove over to visit in person, thwarted by a security gate. She lives in a gated complex, pretty nice for someone who doesn't appear to have a current job (Dorothy checked). Family money?
Here's a tip for anyone worried about being investigated: the fastest way to make us go away is to be available and answer our questions. If you duck me, all it does is make me wonder why.
Dorothy hooked me up with a golf tournament tomorrow morning. I hate golf, but it's a way to spend four hours getting local gossip.
Spent the afternoon at the Senator's district office, talking to the district rep about campaign strategies; where's the opposition based, who's likely to try dirty tricks, etc. He mentioned the columnist again, and said he hangs out at a bar near the Capitol.
Headed to the bar after the workday, had no trouble finding the columnist. Right out of an old movie -- made me wonder whether he thought of himself that way. Bitter man. Bought him a few rounds but actually got more out of the bartender, who went to high school with Emily F. He called her, left a message asking if she wanted to have drinks tomorrow.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Client 09-31, Day 11
Left DC in the pouring rain. Traffic a mess, partly because of this weekend's Cherry Blossom Festival. (Eternal mystery: how do they get the timing so close? Trees are all in bud, on schedule to pop this weekend.)
No direct flights to the Senator's hometown, so I made the transfer in Charlotte (USAirways slogan: "Even Santa flies through Charlotte."). Charlotte Airport has a local wine shop - with free tasting! - but I didn't stop. Had to rent a car when I landed, so didn't need to smell like Pinot Noir.
Another mystery: why are state capitals always such blighted towns?
No direct flights to the Senator's hometown, so I made the transfer in Charlotte (USAirways slogan: "Even Santa flies through Charlotte."). Charlotte Airport has a local wine shop - with free tasting! - but I didn't stop. Had to rent a car when I landed, so didn't need to smell like Pinot Noir.
Another mystery: why are state capitals always such blighted towns?
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Client 09-31, Day Ten
Another day of phone calls and online research. No substitute for being on the ground, so I made plans to visit the Senator's home turf. Campaign consultants seemed okay with it, approved the expense, sent me to their travel agent. (Who uses travel agents any more? Political campaigns.)
Glamorous life of an investigator: some days, all I do is make lists. Lists of potential contacts, lists of known associates, lists of questions I want answered. What did X do to piss off that hometown columnist who hates him so much? And what happened to that campaign advisor from the first Senate run?
Glamorous life of an investigator: some days, all I do is make lists. Lists of potential contacts, lists of known associates, lists of questions I want answered. What did X do to piss off that hometown columnist who hates him so much? And what happened to that campaign advisor from the first Senate run?
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Client 09-31, Day Nine
What a surprise: Emily F. hasn't returned my phone call. Asked Dorothy to trying calling her sorority sisters. Not sure why I’m focusing on this; just a gut feeling.
Another gut feeling is about Mrs. X, and not just because she’s attractive. She's got to be a key source; I called the campaign consultants and made my case for consulting her, just to cross all the t's and dot the i's. Fifteen minutes, the lady herself called: last-minute lunch cancellation. Could I meet her? Oh, yes.
I met her at the Mayflower; that is, she met me, because I was early and she was late. It was us and a bunch of tourists, but that's no bad thing -- no one to recognize us.
No reason to be coy, so I asked straight out what the name Emily F. meant to her. "Nothing," she said, and appeared to be telling the truth. Then she wrecked it: “My husband can be an idiot, but he’s a good man.” "How much do you know about where he is at any given time?" I asked. She said she gets the daily schedule, doesn't see much opportunity for straying from it. But then she hedged again: "I know everything I need to."
Got back to the office to find that Dorothy, that magician, had come up with a phone number for Emily F. I called it, got an answering machine instead of voice mail. (Who still uses an answering machine?) Noise in the background, maybe a baby. "Did she get married?" I asked Dorothy. "Nobody said so," she said. "Her last name hasn't changed."
Hit Capitol Hill after work, looking for places Senator X's staff might go after work. A guy I used to work with always said the most beautiful women in the world work for the United States Senate, and that is the truth.
On the way home, realized who Mrs. X reminded me of: Angela Lansbury in The Manchurian Candidate. There goes the attraction ... maybe.
Another gut feeling is about Mrs. X, and not just because she’s attractive. She's got to be a key source; I called the campaign consultants and made my case for consulting her, just to cross all the t's and dot the i's. Fifteen minutes, the lady herself called: last-minute lunch cancellation. Could I meet her? Oh, yes.
I met her at the Mayflower; that is, she met me, because I was early and she was late. It was us and a bunch of tourists, but that's no bad thing -- no one to recognize us.
No reason to be coy, so I asked straight out what the name Emily F. meant to her. "Nothing," she said, and appeared to be telling the truth. Then she wrecked it: “My husband can be an idiot, but he’s a good man.” "How much do you know about where he is at any given time?" I asked. She said she gets the daily schedule, doesn't see much opportunity for straying from it. But then she hedged again: "I know everything I need to."
Got back to the office to find that Dorothy, that magician, had come up with a phone number for Emily F. I called it, got an answering machine instead of voice mail. (Who still uses an answering machine?) Noise in the background, maybe a baby. "Did she get married?" I asked Dorothy. "Nobody said so," she said. "Her last name hasn't changed."
Hit Capitol Hill after work, looking for places Senator X's staff might go after work. A guy I used to work with always said the most beautiful women in the world work for the United States Senate, and that is the truth.
On the way home, realized who Mrs. X reminded me of: Angela Lansbury in The Manchurian Candidate. There goes the attraction ... maybe.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Client 09-31, Day Eight
Spent yesterday on the Eastern Shore, outside. It's not as warm as usual this time of year, but good to get away for the day.
In early this morning, left Dorothy the staff directory. Talked to S. after staff meeting. Why did Senator X hire us – to tell them there’s nothing? S. says keep looking, travel if necessary.
The last number for Emily F. had been disconnected, but Dorothy managed to track her through sorority alumni network. Amazing. She got a phone number that turned out to belong to Emily's parents; I called, talked to her mother. Her mother said she didn’t feel comfortable giving Emily's number out, but would pass on the message. Not holding my breath.
Spent the afternoon making more calls, to the Senator's major contributors. It was easiest to identify myself as working with Senator X’s reelection campaign (I am, technically), so I got a lot of assistants and voice mails. Routine drudgery, except I did manage to reach one of the "homemaker” contributors; her husband is insurance company exec, on the campaign committee. Nothing illegal about this, just a loophole.
The “inseparable” campaign aide disappears from the staff list in 2004. Wonder what happened to him; asked Dorothy to find out.
Knocked off early and went to the gym. Checked voice mail after: voice mail from contributor, returning my call. "Sorry I missed you.” Right. Voice mail makes it possible to avoid calls forever.
In early this morning, left Dorothy the staff directory. Talked to S. after staff meeting. Why did Senator X hire us – to tell them there’s nothing? S. says keep looking, travel if necessary.
The last number for Emily F. had been disconnected, but Dorothy managed to track her through sorority alumni network. Amazing. She got a phone number that turned out to belong to Emily's parents; I called, talked to her mother. Her mother said she didn’t feel comfortable giving Emily's number out, but would pass on the message. Not holding my breath.
Spent the afternoon making more calls, to the Senator's major contributors. It was easiest to identify myself as working with Senator X’s reelection campaign (I am, technically), so I got a lot of assistants and voice mails. Routine drudgery, except I did manage to reach one of the "homemaker” contributors; her husband is insurance company exec, on the campaign committee. Nothing illegal about this, just a loophole.
The “inseparable” campaign aide disappears from the staff list in 2004. Wonder what happened to him; asked Dorothy to find out.
Knocked off early and went to the gym. Checked voice mail after: voice mail from contributor, returning my call. "Sorry I missed you.” Right. Voice mail makes it possible to avoid calls forever.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Client 09-31, Day Six
Constant puzzle of this business: why do client hire us, then lie to us? Wastes our time, wastes their money.
Case in point, breakfast this morning with Senator X, who showed up with R.G., a campaign consultant. I was early; I'm always early. Not sure whether I was supposed to see R.G. or not, but once I did, he acted like he was supposed to be there. I ignored him.
"Tell me what we're looking for," I said. "Anybody who's not getting what they want from me," Senator X cracked, and R.G. laughed like a troll. I didn't.
Senator X said he'd heard I saw Mrs. X. last night, told me to back off. “I’ve hurt my wife enough,” he said. “She sees the need for this, but she’s not part of your investigation.” She’s part of the media’s investigation, so she's so part of ours.
Emily F? "A lovely girl,” “not ready for Washington.” Huh. He handed over a list of past and current employees, with most recent contact information. Dorothy's project for Monday.
Went over to Roger’s to watch hoops with Gabe. !#%$#$% Wake Forest. Gabe paid no attention, drawing in his notebook; what 14-year-old doesn’t like March Madness?
Case in point, breakfast this morning with Senator X, who showed up with R.G., a campaign consultant. I was early; I'm always early. Not sure whether I was supposed to see R.G. or not, but once I did, he acted like he was supposed to be there. I ignored him.
"Tell me what we're looking for," I said. "Anybody who's not getting what they want from me," Senator X cracked, and R.G. laughed like a troll. I didn't.
Senator X said he'd heard I saw Mrs. X. last night, told me to back off. “I’ve hurt my wife enough,” he said. “She sees the need for this, but she’s not part of your investigation.” She’s part of the media’s investigation, so she's so part of ours.
Emily F? "A lovely girl,” “not ready for Washington.” Huh. He handed over a list of past and current employees, with most recent contact information. Dorothy's project for Monday.
Went over to Roger’s to watch hoops with Gabe. !#%$#$% Wake Forest. Gabe paid no attention, drawing in his notebook; what 14-year-old doesn’t like March Madness?
Friday, March 20, 2009
Client 09-31: Day Five
Dorothy, magic miner of electronic data, found Emily F.: receptionist, 07-08. Just out of curiosity, I asked her to run a literature search on Mrs. X - credit report, public records, etc.
First phone call of the day was to Senator X's office, but not to the Senator himself. Pretended to be a potential employer, checking references on Emily F. Got the office administrator, who would do nothing but confirm employment dates. She did ask whether this was for a job in Washington. Confidentiality works both ways; I said my client did not want to be identified. This flustered her. "Oh," she said, "I just thought she'd gone home to Alabama." Useful: home is Alabama. I passed the info on to Dorothy, who's narrowing the search.
Left another message on Senator X's private line: "When can we talk?" Late in the day he called, suggested breakfast tomorrow morning at the Phoenix Park, a hotel on the Senate side.
Arts calendar in the City Paper said Mrs. X was co-hosting an art gallery reception tonight, so I thought I'd stop by. I was underdressed, which surprised me. Never did get entirely clear on what the event was, or what her role was. She recognized me, but ignored me. The art was not to my taste -- who buys this stuff? -- so I didn't stay long, and went home to watch Wake Forest ruin my NCAA bracket picks.
First phone call of the day was to Senator X's office, but not to the Senator himself. Pretended to be a potential employer, checking references on Emily F. Got the office administrator, who would do nothing but confirm employment dates. She did ask whether this was for a job in Washington. Confidentiality works both ways; I said my client did not want to be identified. This flustered her. "Oh," she said, "I just thought she'd gone home to Alabama." Useful: home is Alabama. I passed the info on to Dorothy, who's narrowing the search.
Left another message on Senator X's private line: "When can we talk?" Late in the day he called, suggested breakfast tomorrow morning at the Phoenix Park, a hotel on the Senate side.
Arts calendar in the City Paper said Mrs. X was co-hosting an art gallery reception tonight, so I thought I'd stop by. I was underdressed, which surprised me. Never did get entirely clear on what the event was, or what her role was. She recognized me, but ignored me. The art was not to my taste -- who buys this stuff? -- so I didn't stay long, and went home to watch Wake Forest ruin my NCAA bracket picks.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Client 09-31: Day Four
Contrary to my childhood fantasies, security work involves a fair amount of desk time. Lots of reading today, reviewing years of press clippings about the Senator and his close associates.
No clue about the identity of "Emily F," and I put Dorothy on it. She reminded me of the so-called "hate book," the public record of all Capitol Hill employees, which records titles and salaries. Since she thought of it, that's her assignment for the day: I'm guessing Emily F is a former employee.
The Senator gave me his cell phone number, but it's still no guarantee of reaching him. Left a voicemail to ask about Emily F. We've agreed to meet weekly with a list of queries/findings, but this feels like a priority.
Lunch with an old pal who works at the Washington Post, at the Post Pub, which should be in a museum. Who still drinks at lunch? He does; I never could, and didn't today. He's a talker anyway, and the beer helped. Called Senator X one of the stupidest men in Washington, and Mrs. X the power behind the throne. Interesting.
Worth looking at Mrs. X? Never heard anything against her; she's a private citizen, so may be offlimits.
No clue about the identity of "Emily F," and I put Dorothy on it. She reminded me of the so-called "hate book," the public record of all Capitol Hill employees, which records titles and salaries. Since she thought of it, that's her assignment for the day: I'm guessing Emily F is a former employee.
The Senator gave me his cell phone number, but it's still no guarantee of reaching him. Left a voicemail to ask about Emily F. We've agreed to meet weekly with a list of queries/findings, but this feels like a priority.
Lunch with an old pal who works at the Washington Post, at the Post Pub, which should be in a museum. Who still drinks at lunch? He does; I never could, and didn't today. He's a talker anyway, and the beer helped. Called Senator X one of the stupidest men in Washington, and Mrs. X the power behind the throne. Interesting.
Worth looking at Mrs. X? Never heard anything against her; she's a private citizen, so may be offlimits.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Client 09-31: Day Three
Today started with the FEC lists of major contributors to Senator X's campaign. Several "homemakers" giving $2,000 -- what's that about? This is not my area of expertise; is this something usual, or something to look at more closely? Asked Dorothy to flag anything that looked surprising, and follow up with phone calls. Her response: "If I wanted to be a telemarketer, I wouldn't have bothered with college." Welcome to the glamorous world of the investigator...
More background reading on Senator & Mrs. X. They met through her father, who was his boss; Daddy ran the state's largest lumber mill, pre-Senator X was the mill's ambitious young lawyer. X won a big class action lawsuit, married the heiress a year later. I think I saw that movie, except in the movie, the mill didn't win...
Senator X seemed nervous when I asked for a list of current and former staff. Why? It's public record, just faster to get it from his office than from the Secretary of the Senate's. He did agree to let me talk to his scheduler; I took her to dinner at the Jefferson tonight.
She didn't unbend much. Funny, she looks like my third-grade teacher, right down to the blouse with the bow around her neck. Didn't even know they made those any more. Before I could ask her anything, she asked me: "Is this about Emily F.?"
"Not that I know of," I said. "Who's Emily F.?" She wouldn't say.
Tomorrow's question: who's Emily F.?
More background reading on Senator & Mrs. X. They met through her father, who was his boss; Daddy ran the state's largest lumber mill, pre-Senator X was the mill's ambitious young lawyer. X won a big class action lawsuit, married the heiress a year later. I think I saw that movie, except in the movie, the mill didn't win...
Senator X seemed nervous when I asked for a list of current and former staff. Why? It's public record, just faster to get it from his office than from the Secretary of the Senate's. He did agree to let me talk to his scheduler; I took her to dinner at the Jefferson tonight.
She didn't unbend much. Funny, she looks like my third-grade teacher, right down to the blouse with the bow around her neck. Didn't even know they made those any more. Before I could ask her anything, she asked me: "Is this about Emily F.?"
"Not that I know of," I said. "Who's Emily F.?" She wouldn't say.
Tomorrow's question: who's Emily F.?
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Client 09-31: Day Two
Late start this morning; "ran into" Senator X's chief of staff at Tunnicliff's last night. Did not need to match him drink-for-drink. Advantage was that I found a legal parking space on Capitol Hill, and left the Defender there overnight.
Morning meeting with the Senator himself, in his hideaway. Hard to find; it's easy to get lost in those Capitol hallways.
He's a good-looking guy, but not too good-looking; charming without being too charming. Looks you straight in the eye, but I never met a politician who didn't. Human: "I've made some mistakes, but you know everything." If that were true, he wouldn't have hired us. Remember All the King's Men: "There is always something."
Spent the rest of the morning on routine background: credit check, transcripts, public records. Go figure, Senator X is actually an Eagle Scout.
Met an old friend for lunch at Georgia Brown's. JG is a political fundraiser; I tossed Senator X into the conversation and she said she'd love to have him as a client, but didn't think he'd need her. "The guy's bulletproof," she said. If so, what does he need me for?
Asked Dorothy to search FEC records on contributors to Senator X’s last campaign. He’s got to have some deep pockets.
Tonight, met Senator X's campaign consultants for drinks. Not sure whether they recommended hiring us, but they expect to be kept in the loop. Surprise was that Mrs. X showed up, without the Senator. She's clearly important to the campaign team. A real asset; good looks, charm, and the family money doesn't hurt.
Morning meeting with the Senator himself, in his hideaway. Hard to find; it's easy to get lost in those Capitol hallways.
He's a good-looking guy, but not too good-looking; charming without being too charming. Looks you straight in the eye, but I never met a politician who didn't. Human: "I've made some mistakes, but you know everything." If that were true, he wouldn't have hired us. Remember All the King's Men: "There is always something."
Spent the rest of the morning on routine background: credit check, transcripts, public records. Go figure, Senator X is actually an Eagle Scout.
Met an old friend for lunch at Georgia Brown's. JG is a political fundraiser; I tossed Senator X into the conversation and she said she'd love to have him as a client, but didn't think he'd need her. "The guy's bulletproof," she said. If so, what does he need me for?
Asked Dorothy to search FEC records on contributors to Senator X’s last campaign. He’s got to have some deep pockets.
Tonight, met Senator X's campaign consultants for drinks. Not sure whether they recommended hiring us, but they expect to be kept in the loop. Surprise was that Mrs. X showed up, without the Senator. She's clearly important to the campaign team. A real asset; good looks, charm, and the family money doesn't hurt.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Client 09-31: The Senator
Busy Monday. Boss asked me in early, before Monday staff meeting -- something big, a new client. Immediately assumed it was Madoff-related; we know he hid millions, I've heard it could be billions.
S. took his time getting off the phone. New client couldn't be further from Madoff; a real live US Senator, looking for help with counter-opposition research. I don't pay enough attention to this stuff; recognized the name, didn't know why. S. says that's the point; plenty of his dirty laundry's already public, but is something worse still out there?
Media search reminded me of where I'd heard the name. Senator X was in the news a lot last year, for all the wrong reasons ... but with this much on him, what more could he do? If voters haven't kicked him out already, he's probably safe. S. reminds me: we don't get paid for political advice.
Louisiana ex-Governor Edwin Edwards once said he'd only lose an election if the press found him in bed with a dead woman or a live boy. As they say, it's funny because it's true... don't think I'll share that with S., but it made Dorothy laugh.
S. took his time getting off the phone. New client couldn't be further from Madoff; a real live US Senator, looking for help with counter-opposition research. I don't pay enough attention to this stuff; recognized the name, didn't know why. S. says that's the point; plenty of his dirty laundry's already public, but is something worse still out there?
Media search reminded me of where I'd heard the name. Senator X was in the news a lot last year, for all the wrong reasons ... but with this much on him, what more could he do? If voters haven't kicked him out already, he's probably safe. S. reminds me: we don't get paid for political advice.
Louisiana ex-Governor Edwin Edwards once said he'd only lose an election if the press found him in bed with a dead woman or a live boy. As they say, it's funny because it's true... don't think I'll share that with S., but it made Dorothy laugh.
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