Chapter 20 — When the Time Comes _November 3, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_ {psc} "I need a favor," I said to Noel Spurgeon on Thursday morning. "It has to be about your wife, otherwise you wouldn't ask." "It is. We've basically reached the end game." "I'm sorry to hear that. What favor?" "Keiko would like to spend some time together, and she'd like it to be at the American Club in Kohler, Wisconsin. She indicated that the resort is always booked solid." "What dates?" "Based on her medical appointments, November 14th to November 17th." "Let me make some phone calls; I should be able to make that happen." "Thank you." "Keep up the good work, Kane. And let me know if there is anything you need." "I will. Thanks again." I left his office and returned to 29, where I saw Jack going into the new space. I decided to check on the progress, as we hadn't spoken about it in a week, so I followed him. "Morning, Jonathan," Marcus Washington said when I walked in. "Morning. Just having a look; don't mind me." I looked at the space and listened as Jack and Marcus discussed the minor delay related to the wiring for the network, but because they had built a few extra days into the schedule, they still planned to make the target completion date. "The only tricky part," Marcus said, "is the additional inspection required for low-power wiring. I think we can get the same inspector to do both when he's here, but this being Chicago, you can never be sure." "Jonathan, would a delay cause you any problems?" Jack asked. "None that I can think of. And I'll cover things with Mr. Spurgeon if that happens. I changed the specs part way through the job." "Thanks," Jack said. "I appreciate it." "You're welcome," I said, then left to return to my desk. I checked the news and actually laughed out loud when I saw President Reagan's response to the UN statement on Grenada. The UN General Assembly had, by a lopsided 108 to 9 vote, stated that the invasion was 'a flagrant violation of international law', to which Reagan, when asked about the vote, had replied, _'it didn't upset my breakfast at all'_. That more or less put the cherry on top of the analysis that my team and I had provided, saying that, literally, nothing would come of the invasion. Reagan had, in effect, 'gotten away with it' in a fashion similar to how the Soviets had 'gotten away' with shooting down KAL 007. There were deeper ramifications, of course, but in the scheme of things, neither mattered with regard to the financial markets and had been, as John Peters had jokingly stated, 'a fart in a hurricane'. That said, the world was on a hair-trigger, and a wrong move by either side could lead to nuclear war, something I didn't want to countenance. On the plus side, _that_ result would render all of our work and projections meaningless, and it was unlikely any of us would survive the MIRVs targeted on Chicago, which hosted two important Navy facilities — Glenview Naval Air Station and Naval Recruit Training Command, Great Lakes. Those, plus the important financial markets - CBOT, CME, and CBOE — plus major banking and retail interests, along with the government research facilities in the western Suburbs, guaranteed we'd be taken out in the first strike. What mattered, in the end, was just how close we could come to 'DEFCON 1' without destroying the world and what that might look like for foreign exchange, precious metals, equities, and fixed-income securities. Each level of risk created a different set of relationships, with higher risk increasing precious metals prices and reduced risk being best for equities. It was the nuances of those calculations that would make us real money, as everyone knew the general idea. I made some notes about additional factors to include in my global stability analysis, tweaked a few parameters in the spreadsheet, and then ran a regression, which showed my new model was slightly more accurate but still off. And it was in those 'off' areas that most of our profits would lie — when the market didn't follow the obvious factors. If we could find _any_ correlation, that would give us a huge advantage over our competitors or help us maintain it as they began to catch up. One thing I'd noticed was that because the vast majority of our trades went out 'over the wire', as it were, several smaller funds had done their best to track our moves, relying on that public information. The only way to stop that was to trade privately, in what had been referred to as 'dark pools', where public reporting was not necessary unless we took a controlling interest in a publicly traded company. SEC Regulation 19c3, promulgated in 1979, had allowed for listed securities to be traded 'off exchange', and thus away from prying eyes. By keeping the transaction private, it had no direct market impact and also disguised moves being made by financial services firms such as Spurgeon and large banks. Spurgeon occasionally conducted trades via those so-called 'dark pools', but the FX desk generally could not use them, nor did it have much need for them, as currency transactions could be kept completely dark by simply trading directly with the counterparty rather than going through an exchange or dealer. That was the norm, though, in the case of attacks on currencies, where we wanted it known to create the 'dogpile' effect, which was starting with regard to the Australian dollar, and which we had used to good effect against the Philippine Peso and the Zaïre. I spent the entire morning and part of the afternoon tweaking my global risk model, with most of the tweaks resulting in worse results. Per Bianca's instructions, I kept careful track of what I changed and the results, including the regressions, so that we could analyze them to see if we could find a correlation between the failures, not just the successes, as that could provide further insight. At about 2:15pm, my phone rang. "Research; Kane." "Mr. Spurgeon would like to see you now," Julie said. "Be right up." I disconnected the call and headed to 32, where Julie sent me directly into Mr. Spurgeon's office. "You have the Presidential Suite at The American Club for the dates you asked. I'm covering it." "That's not necessary," I said. "Say 'Thank you', Kane." "Thank you." "Other than tips, everything will be charged to me. I've already cleared the days off with Murray for you." "Thank you." "By the way, today was the first time I've seen the word 'laughable' in a political analysis." "It fit," I replied. "I mean, the UN General Assembly has no actual power, and nothing they say actually matters. Despite claims to the contrary, all power vests in the Security Council, and with the US and USSR nearly always on opposite sides, the UN is, in fact, a laughingstock. From what I can see, their only success is avoiding paying parking fines around UN headquarters!" Mr. Spurgeon laughed, "They milk that diplomatic immunity for all it's worth! What about peacekeepers?" "What about them? India and Pakistan are still at odds over Kashmir and find ways to kill each other despite the UN being there since 1949. Ditto the Middle East. And let's not even discuss Africa!" "Point taken." "Fundamentally, the US and USSR, and to a lesser extent Red China, can do as they please, and nobody can stop them except each other. And even they can't really stop each other because it comes down to one side or the other blinking rather than opting for nuclear annihilation. Mutual Assured Destruction is an insane idea, but it works. Both sides stop short of a general shooting war because they know where it has to lead." "All true. Who wins the Cold War?" "In the end, the economic power of the West will defeat the East Bloc. The question is, do they go down with a whimper or a bang. And then, does China somehow fill that power vacuum to become a superpower." "What's your take?" "Watch their economy. China could develop a strong economy, which is possible after the demise of Mao and the 'Gang of Four'. The reforms instituted so far by Deng Xiaoping seem to be on target for creating what I think we would call a mercantilist economy, and if he can succeed, then China will fill the power vacuum created by the collapse of the East Bloc. Downsizing the Peoples Liberation Army tells me Deng is serious about economic improvement." "Who's your China expert?" "Tony, really, mostly because of his own interests — his wife is a Chinese ex-pat who escaped via Thailand in the mid-70s." "Did anything come of your contacts with the Soviet Trade Ministry?" "No. I've kept in touch, but I don't see anything there, and as I noted, their economy is likely to collapse sometime in the next decade." "Peer into your crystal ball — when?" "Early 90s, I'd say. It could happen sooner, but they have enough natural resources to stave off the inevitable for a decade or so, or even perhaps two. By the turn of the millennium, though, it's a sure thing. They simply don't have enough hard currency or precious metals to conduct international trade except as a supplier of raw materials, and as we know, it's manufactured goods where the profits are made. Russia has no real manufacturing capacity for exports, the exception being the tractors they're selling here and whatever they can foist on client states." "How solid is your information and analysis on the Nikkei 225?" "I am not uncertain," I said. Mr. Spurgeon laughed, "Your stock phrase for when you're sure." "At least as sure as I can be about anything that is a purely chaotic system — financial products and weather being the two main ones." "Double in two or three years, and further upside?" "Yes." "OK. I trust your analysis, but I want to look someone in the eye when they give me what amounts to new, contrary information." "I'm sure you read the analysis, but it comes down to the fact that real estate prices are going to force the issue. There is so much available capital for building owners to borrow against, and interest rates are so low, they're going to do it and pour money into the stock market. And those increasing property values pump up the balance sheets of companies as well, making the fundamentals look good to the casual observer, and when combined with a strong Yen, will drive retail investors into the market." "Which is why you think, eventually, the house of cards collapses." "I think even a slight drop in property values could cause a cascading effect as could a reduction of their trade surplus. Scott and I believe the warning sign will be a weakening of the Yen. When we see that, we pull out of the market, short the Yen, and ride it down." "If your team is right, we could see returns north of 50% for the next few years." "I am not uncertain." "Dismissed, Kane. Keep up the good work." "Yes, Sir. And thank you again." I left his office and returned to 29 to complete my day, then headed home to see Keiko. "We have the Presidential Suite at The American Club for the 14th through the 17th," I said. "Mr. Spurgeon made it happen, and he's covering the cost." "Really?" "Really. He knows the situation, given his involvement with trying to find a donor in Japan." "I'll call Doctor Morrison tomorrow and request the transfusion for the 12th. That should help me have more energy for our vacation." "Is there anything else I can do for you, Keiko-chan?" "You're doing the most important thing," she said. "Loving me. Happy birthday!" "Thank you. Bianca has cake and ice cream for dessert." "How does it feel to be twenty-one?" "No different from yesterday, but at least now if I'm carded, I can still drink!" _November 4, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_ "Research; Kane," I said when I answered the phone just after 9:00am on Friday morning. "Jonathan, it's Chris Roth from Kenosha." "Good morning, Chris. How are you?" "Good. I'm calling to say that we're ready to pull the trigger. What do we need to do?" "Sign the forms I left you and send them, along with the application packet, to my attention. If you want to courier it, I'll arrange that. Once we have the documents, Legal and Compliance will review everything, and then New Accounts will handle transferring the assets. Just make sure the signatures on the application are notarized, please." "I'll take care of that this morning. And yes, we'd like to move as quickly as possible." "I'll call the courier. What time should they pick up the documents?" "I'll have everything ready by 10:30am." "I'll take care of it. Welcome aboard!" We said 'goodbye' and I ended the call, then called Jack to let him know I needed documents picked up in Kenosha, with the charges allocated to the Cincinnatus Fund. Five hours later, I hand carried the documents to Legal and Compliance, then returned to my desk. I completed my workday hen headed home. "Jonathan, you remember my cousin Ailea, right?" Keiko asked. "I do. Hi, Ailea." "Hi, Jonathan!" the bubbly seven-year-old exclaimed. "How long are you here?" "My mom dropped me off about ten minutes ago and will pick me up when she's done shopping; around 5:00pm." "OK. Keiko, I'll be upstairs, but I'll spend some time with you before I go out." "OK," Keiko agreed. About ninety minutes later, Ailea left, and I went to the Japanese room to sit with Keiko. "Given what we're facing," I said, "I think this is the last Friday I'm going to go out. I want to spend every moment possible with you." "You know I want you to spend time with your friends," Keiko said. "I do, but if I can be direct…" "Yes." "We don't have a lot of time left, and I want to make the most of that time. With you." "I know," Keiko sighed. "I want…want things to be different, but…" She began crying softly, and I took her in my arms and held her. I had read the same literature that she had, and once treatment stopped, it was usually a matter of months before the end, which meant there was a good chance that Keiko and I had only weeks before her symptoms would confine her to bed. She was already showing the first signs of what was called 'End-Stage AML' — weakness, loss of appetite, and low blood pressure. None of those were severe, but it was only a matter of time. Fortunately, she was not in pain, something that often happened at this stage and which would require painkillers. I hoped that continued for at least the next two weeks so that we could enjoy our time at The American Club. The transfusion would help, and the IV antibiotics were holding back the infection, though how long that would last was anyone's guess. "I can stay home if you want," I said about ten minutes later. "No, I'm going to eat something, then go to bed so I can have energy tomorrow when you're home." "If you're sure." "I am." We went to the kitchen, I made her a light dinner, and after she ate, she went to bed and I went out to dinner with Jack, Kristy, and CeCi. _November 5, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_ On Saturday, Bianca and I went grocery shopping, stopped by the dry cleaner, and then headed home. Keiko, Bianca, Juliette, and I had lunch together, then Keiko and I went to the Japanese room. "Can we talk about something?" Keiko asked quietly. "Whatever you want," I replied with a bit of trepidation, given the likely topic. "When the time comes, I want my grandparents and parents here." "I will speak with your dad and grandfather and make that happen. What about your aunt, uncle, and cousin?" "Yes. There are certain things which are done traditionally, and I'm not sure if my grandparents will want to do them; I am sure my mom will." "What do _you_ want, Keiko-chan? I will absolutely ensure _your_ wishes are fulfilled." "Well, in one sense, it won't matter, if you know what I mean." "I understand, but it matters to me that your wishes are honored." "I'm OK with the usual rituals, including the «通夜» (_tsuya_), which is similar to a wake, and a «告別式» (_kokubetsu-shiki_), or funeral is fine, but please do not give me a new name." "A new name?" "Traditional Japanese, which would include my mom, believe you should give the deceased a new name to prevent their «神» (_kami_) from being summoned at the mention of their name. It's a bit silly, especially given our beliefs, and the temples charge for it, sometimes millions of Yen to have a rare name. I promise not to haunt you if you say my name!" I smiled, "Thank you. How much grief will we get from your mom on that?" "She'll complain, but you can ignore her. Following the funeral, I want to be cremated, as we discussed. You may keep some of the ashes if you wish, but they do not go on the «神棚» (_kamidana_). The rest go to the crypt at Montrose Cemetery, as we discussed." {green}("Spirit Shelf"){/green} "What about your parents or grandparents?" "Traditionally, the ashes aren't kept, but being American, I felt you might want them. There are other traditions, but I looked into how it works here, and the ashes are ground, so the «骨揚げ» (_kotsuage_), or the 'picking the bones' ceremony, is not necessary. My mom may object, but things are different here. "As for the crypt, my grandfather will arrange to have my name engraved on the stone tablet. If you want, your name can be engraved as well, but it would be painted red to signify you are still living. I'm not sure what you want to do, because you might marry again; I think you should." "I don't want to think about that at the moment," I said. "I have no idea what will happen in the future, but I promised to love you until my last breath, so yes, please, have my Japanese name engraved on the tablet. Someday, I will join you." "Are you sure?" "Positive. What about waiting forty-nine days to inter the ashes?" "I'm OK either way. I'm sure my mom will pay for the priest to say prayers the first seven days, but I'm OK with just the «初七日» (_shonanoka_), the prayers on the seventh day. If you want to wait, then the forty-ninth-day prayers called «四十九日» (_shijūkunichi_), and on the same day, the «納骨» (_nōkotsu_), or interment ceremony. At that point, you place my picture next to the altar on the «神棚» (_kamidana_)." "What am I supposed to wear for these ceremonies?" "Your kimono or a black suit with a white shirt. Women should wear a black kimono or a black dress. If you want, you can carry my «数珠» (_juzu_), which are prayer beads. They're in my jewelry box." "I've never seen you with them." "They were a gift from my mom when I turned thirteen, but you know I don't practice Buddhism in any ritualistic way. It would be a nice touch, and my mom would appreciate it. She'll have hers, as will my dad and grandmother. My grandfather doesn't ever use them, so I'm not sure what he'll do." "So, like a rosary?" "Something like that, yes, and a mantra is repeated." "Is there a tradition surrounding them?" "You can carry them, wrap them around your wrist, or wear them suspended from a belt." "So it would be OK to wear them to remember you?" "Yes, if you wanted. If you take them off, you should place them on the «神棚» (_kamidana_) next to my picture." "Is there anything else?" I asked. "No. Well, actually, the day matters. To avoid trouble with my mom, you should avoid «友引» (_tomobiki_) because the Kanji imply pulling one's friends along. Otherwise, it's not nearly as important as the choice of a day for a wedding. The calendar is in my drawer, but it's in Japanese. You'll need help to read it." "Could you write the translation of the seven sets of Kanji characters?" I asked. Keiko laughed softly, "Yes, and then you could use it, even if you can't read it." "If we're done with this, what would you like to do?" "Just listen to music and cuddle, if that's OK." "It is." That's what we did for the rest of the afternoon, interrupted only by Maria, who came to check Keiko's vitals and change her IV bag. Keiko's vitals hadn't changed much, which, given where we were, was a good thing. She and I had a quiet dinner together, spent more time cuddling in the Japanese room, and then went to bed early. _November 6, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_ "I have something to show you," Deanna said on Sunday while Keiko was napping. I followed her to her loft studio, where she removed a cloth from an easel, revealing a stunning portrait of Keiko. "Amazing," I breathed. "It's perfect." "I'm not sure I'd go that far!" Deanna declared. "But I am happy with how it turned out." "Would you frame it, please? Pick something elegant which complements the portrait. Obviously, I'll reimburse you for it. And this portrait is easily worth what «La petite mort» was worth. I'll write you a check." "You don't have to; please accept this as a gift." Remembering what Noel Spurgeon had said, I replied, "Thank you." "Do you plan to display it right away?" Deanna asked. "No, but I'll show it to Keiko. I'll put it up after…" "How long do you think?" "It's hard to say, but a few months, at the most." "I'm so sorry." "Thanks." "If I can borrow your car, I can get the frame this afternoon. I have a pretty good idea of what will work." "Thanks. And yes, of course. The keys are on the hook in the kitchen." I left her loft and went downstairs to wait for Keiko to get up from her nap, which she did about an hour later. We spent the afternoon together, and after dinner, we went up to our room, and Deanna brought in the portrait, framed in a simple but elegant black frame. "Oh, my!" Keiko gasped. "That's amazing!" "That's exactly what Jonathan said," Deanna replied. "I'm glad you like it." "Where do you plan to hang it, Jonathan?" Keiko asked. "In the Japanese room." "After, right?" "Yes, unless you think otherwise." "No, I think that's right. Thank you so much, Deanna." "You're welcome." "Would you keep it in your studio for now?" I requested. "Absolutely," Deanna agreed. _November 7, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_ On Monday afternoon, with Mr. Matheson's blessing, I left the office at 2:30 so that I could attend the meeting with the IRS examiner. I met Nancy King, my tax attorney, and Robert Black, my CPA, in the lobby of the Kluczynski Federal Building at 230 South Dearborn. "Remember, other than factual demographic questions, you allow either Bob or me to respond," Nancy said. "They may insist you answer personally, but you should, if possible, simply state that you stand by your returns as filed. If, for some reason, Bob or I don't know the answer, we'll take down the question and commit to answering in writing." "What am I missing?" I asked. "It's a felony to make a materially false statement, even if inadvertently, or say anything that is an 'artifice' to covering up a crime. Most things with the IRS are civil, but some things can be criminal." "You're full of good news. I thought only fraud or failure to file were criminal." "Generally speaking, an honest mistake or a disagreement about the meaning of a provision of the tax code results in a civil fine, but the IRS _could_ refer you to the US Attorney. That's why you want Bob or me to do all the talking. If we sense any serious concern on their part, we'll ask for all questions to be submitted in writing so we can answer in writing after conferring. Neither Bob nor I think there's any real concern, but with the IRS, you never know." "Shall we go up?" Bob asked. We walked over to the elevator bank and waited for a car that would take us to the correct floor. Two minutes later, we were waiting in the lobby of the IRS offices, waiting for Terrence Jacoby, the examiner, to call us. Five minutes later, we were seated in a small conference room. "Mr. Kane, who are your representatives?" Mr. Jacoby asked. "My tax attorney, Ms. Nancy King, and my CPA, Mr. Robert Black." "And which one is your official representative?" "I am," Robert said. "I'm an Enrolled Agent, and Ms. King is here to advise both Mr. Kane and me. She is a Federally Authorized Tax Practitioner and is admitted to practice in Tax Court." "Mr. Kane, would you confirm your full legal name, your birthdate, your Social Security number, and your current address?" I recited the factual biographical data as Nancy had directed. "How long have you lived at that address?" "Since March," I replied. "What other addresses have you had in the past two years?" I provided my previous addresses — the rental house, the Andros' garage, and my mom's house in Goshen. "When did you file your first tax return?" "1978, for the 1977 tax year." "Who is your current employer, and what is your role?" I answered those questions, explaining my somewhat complicated role and adding that I had two SEC licenses. "Are you married or single?" "Married." "Do you have any dependents other than your wife?" "No." "And her occupation?" "Full-time student until June; part-time since then." "Do you have your records with you?" "I have them," Bob said. "I'll need you to sign a receipt which lists each document you requested and a statement that we've provided the requested documents." Handing over the documents and obtaining the receipt and the statement took nearly forty minutes, as it included nearly every financial document imaginable, including the incorporation papers for Yuusuke Holdings. "I don't see any records relating to the investment fund Mr. Kane manages." "None of those documents are responsive for tax years 1978 through 1982," Bob said. "I'd like to see them," Mr. Jacoby said. "They are not due until April 15th of next year, and important documents have not been prepared, as Mr. Kane's gains and income are unrealized and do not accrue until December 31st. As such, they are not, at this time, subject to IRS examinations. The statutes clearly give April 15th as the date when that income must be reported and when those documents must be available for IRS examination." "I'm entitled to ask for any relevant documents," Mr. Jacoby declared. "Yes, as to filed tax returns. Nancy?" "Bob is correct," she said. "The US Federal Courts have routinely ruled against IRS requests for current tax year documents unless the IRS can specifically identify material fraud on past returns or attempts to conceal current income through illegal means. If you have made such a finding, I require you to present it in writing immediately." "I'm not prepared to do that," Mr. Jacoby said. "Moving along, I'd like to ask about the mortgage on Mr. Kane's home." "A proper note was executed," Bob said. "But again, no tax filings are or have been required; they will be made with Mr. Kane's 1983 tax return." Mr. Jacoby frowned, and I had the distinct impression he was working based on some theory Enderlee had put forward. The problem he had was that he could only really look into things that had occurred in years for which I'd filed a tax return. The SEC, on the other hand, had a much freer hand and could look at anything up to and including the present moment. "On last year's tax return, there is a gift of a car. Tell me about that, please." "Mr. Kane was rewarded for success at work," Bob said. "As such, the car is considered taxable income, and Mr. Kane declared it and paid the tax due, in accordance with 26 U.S.C. § 102(c)." That had, at the time I filed my tax returns — or rather, Bob had filed them — surprised me, but he'd made the point that the law expressly exempted gifts from employers because they were not given with detached and disinterested generosity. The underlying premise was an attempt to avoid employers 'gifting' their employees their salary to avoid taxation. It was a bit tricky, as there were exemptions for legitimate achievement awards, and Mr. Matheson had personally given me the car, but Bob had, after a thorough review and discussion with Nancy, decided to take the conservative approach. "I don't have any further questions at this time," Mr. Jacoby said. "I'll review all the submitted documents and compare them with Mr. Kane's return. I'll be in touch with any questions." Bob stood, so I followed suit, as did Nancy. Bob turned and left the conference room, and I followed him. He signaled not to say anything, and the three of us made our way to the elevator and rode down to the lobby. "I'd say your former co-worker made some claims about tax fraud," Bob said once we had moved away from the elevators to a spot where we could have some privacy. "I had that picture as well," I said. "What will happen?" "He'll beat his head on his desk at the end of his examination because there is literally nothing on which he can hang his hat. That said, you can be absolutely sure you'll have a full audit next year. The questions about the Cincinnatus Fund telegraphed that quite clearly. I assume you agree, Nancy?" "Yes," she replied. "That is exactly what he'll go after. Bob and I will ensure your return is as accurate as humanly possible. I say that because there are areas of the tax code that are as clear as mud, and no letter rulings or court cases have clarified them." "Then I'd like you both, so far as is reasonable, to approach it as conservatively as possible. I'd rather pay a bit more than legally required than have them find something on which to hang their hat." "That's our usual approach," Bob said. "Some CPAs look to absolutely minimize taxes; I prefer to minimize audits. Those will cost you far more in time and money than most tax liability you could incur. That said, if there is a major discrepancy, Nancy will apply for a Private Letter Ruling. Nancy?" "PLRs are official IRS responses to inquiries about the tax code," Nancy said. "We provide them with a specific set of facts and our preferred interpretation of the tax code. They respond with a PLR, which binds both the IRS and us, thus generally protecting against an audit or fines. They're only applicable to the specific taxpayer with the specific set of circumstances, though the IRS can release a redacted version as a Revenue Ruling, making them generally applicable." "So what do I do?" "Go home, go to work, and otherwise go about your business, and don't worry," Bob said. "On the plus side, when you get through this and next year's audit, they'll likely leave you alone for a time. That said, someone in your position is always going to be under scrutiny. I'm sure the Spurgeon Legal and Compliance team has spoken to you." "Yes. So far, the SEC hasn't turned up anything, either. Enderlee may have made a huge mistake there, though, because he provided them materially false information." "If only it worked that way," Nancy said. "Whistleblowers generally get a free pass even if they lie through their teeth. The government has no interest in prosecuting snitches — that would limit who might snitch." "Wonderful." "Just relax," Bob said. "You're in good shape." "Thanks to both of you." "You're welcome," Bob said. Nancy echoed him, we said 'goodbye' to each other, and I headed back to the Hancock Center to retrieve my car. At home, I reassured Keiko there was nothing to worry about, and we had a quiet evening together. _November 8, 1983, Chicago, Illinois_ On Tuesday morning, I woke to the news that a bomb had exploded in the US Senate portion of the Capitol Building. Nobody had been killed or injured, and the damage was mostly superficial. According to WBBM radio, which I listened to on the way to work, a bomb threat had been called in to the _Washington Post_ a few minutes before the explosion. A group that identified itself as the Armed Resistance Unit claimed the bombing was retaliation for recent U.S. military involvement in Grenada and Lebanon. WBBM mentioned that in April, there had been an explosion at the National War College at Fort McNair in Washington, D.C, with the claim to the UPI that it was in response to 'US imperialism' and speculated that the bombs might be related. The news report also mentioned previous bombs in 1971 and 1975, neither of which I remembered hearing about at the time. When I arrived at the office, I went straight to Rich's office. "Anything from the bombing last night?" "Not even a blip in Asia or on the precious metals market. No deaths and no real damage, so nobody much cares." "Thanks. I need to do some research on the previous bombings." "The ones in the 70s, right?" "Yes. I was twelve or thirteen when the second one happened, but I don't recall even hearing about it." "Both were by the Weather Underground, but you might know them as the 'Weathermen', who were an offshoot of the SDS — the Students for Democratic Society. Basically, a revolutionary group dedicated to the overthrow of the US government, which they felt was imperialist." "I wonder if they're related." "If so, it would have to be a rump splinter group because the Weather Underground basically disintegrated after the Paris Peace Accords ended the US involvement in the war in Southeast Asia." "OK. I'm going to do some research because I'll need a summary analysis for our morning report." I left Rich's office, made a fresh pot of coffee, and sat down at my desk to begin researching the Weather Underground and the Armed Resistance Unit. In the process, I learned a lot that hadn't been taught in High School about revolutionary movements in the US that used terror tactics in an attempt to bring down the US government. That led me to make notes to discuss with the team how we could account for 'domestic unrest' and terrorism, especially given the activities of the Red Brigades, the Baader–Meinhof Gang, Action Directe, ETA, the Irish Republican Army, and the PLO. We did have a factor for 'global terrorism' but the domestic terror and revolutionary groups could easily affect the markets, especially highly organized groups like the IRA. I wrote my daily summary and updated the global risk spreadsheet, slightly increasing the terrorism factor, but in the end, the change from the previous day was in the insignificant digits we didn't report. I had just finished when my phone rang. "Research; Kane." "Jonathan, it's Kendall Roy. How did things go yesterday?" "According to my CPA and tax attorney, just fine. They speculate, and I agree, that Enderlee fed the IRS a bunch of bullshit similar to what he fed the SEC." "That's what I figured. What's the next step?" "The examiner is going to review my returns from '78 through '82. My CPA did warn me that I'll likely be subject to a full audit next year." "I wouldn't dispute that. Most of our licensed staff are audited every few years because the government thinks we have to cheat to make the kind of money we do." "Too bad we can't simply exempt ourselves from the laws the way Congress does!" "You're more likely to have a foursome with the girls from _Charlie's Angels_ than have THAT fantasy fulfilled!" I chuckled, "Now there's a thought, though I doubt my wife would approve." "Mine, either, but I can have whatever fantasy I want so long as she doesn't know about it!" "Good point! Any more from the SEC?' "No," Mr. Roy said. "With no additional document requests and no further inquiries, I'd say they'll close the investigation in the next week or two. There's nothing for them to find, and as we discussed, some of Enderlee's claims are ludicrous." "I'm curious, but is there any recourse?" "Not really. But you know what happens when you cross Noel Spurgeon." "Nothing good, that's for sure," I said. "So the karmic balance is there. Enderlee can't hurt you, and he's dead to the world. And you know his funds are locked up. No need to make it personal when you have Noel Spurgeon on your side." "True." "Keep me posted on any developments with the IRS." "Will do. Thanks." We said 'goodbye', I hung up, then went to speak with Tony.