"Little" Sister Pt. 05

Having a family company, with a Digital Arts division, came in handy. Sean and Sheila were doing all the webwork pro bono, because it was good advertising. Christine was the one that suggested a design contest. As soon as she text it, everyone knew it would happen. Yale was particularly happy, since a Yale student had won another famous contest—to design the Vietnam Memorial.

By spring, the project would become a monster. Sheila's Hollywood contacts were competing for the chance to document the renovations. Funds started to trickle, then pour in. Amounts started small, e.g. each of the Nashua primary schools did a collection. However, other non-profit companies wanted to get in on the action.

Through FD Consulting, I hired an experienced fund raising manager to control it all. FDC billed Beacon Light at his listed rates, but clerical time was written off. Tax compliance was a more urgent issue. The Richards Foundation underwrote our first year of tax preparation, through their usual firm. FDC and Beacon Light hired Mr. Gregg to do the accounts for the soon to end year, with one of his cousins on retainer for legal counsel.

Some hobby.

Chapter 24 - Politicking

As the holidays rolled around, so did the political season. Mid-term elections were a year away, so candidates were getting serious about the primaries. Since I, in my FDC cap, was a campaign manager, this became time consuming. It was well I had Cloudrest issues to give me another topic of conversation. City politics is tea party gossip gone wild. Elspeth made a chart of the various family trees, so that I could sort out some of the nepotism.

South Boston was doing better. Once I dried Veronica out, she started to enjoy her job. Since her regular job was only a step above turning burgers, I offered her a position and threw in an office. It was exactly the right thing.

Mark Twain said that the difference between the right word and almost the right word, is like the difference between a lightning bug and a lightning bolt. In this case, I was lucky. I needed a permanent address in Boston and someone to man it. Veronica was the obvious person. It did not occur to me that running an office was a lifelong dream of Roni's.

It was a lesson that stood me well through the years. The term "Manager" has mystic powers. It was a tiny one room office, but there was a desk, a phone and a filing cabinet. More importantly, the door read, "Veronica VanKampen, FD Consulting." It did not hurt that the address was a block north of Boylston Street. I suppose that put her uptown. In any event, Veronica cried when I showed her the office and handed her a box of business cards.

Naturally, within a week she was telling me she needed a bigger office and a secretary. By New Year, I agreed with her. Mimi provided a list of names for the assistant. Veronica chose a mousy thirty year old Iraqi immigrant, Ibraim Wardani, who happened to be a bit of a tech whiz. Since Roni was heavily to the lesbian side of bisexual, I was not worried about romantic entanglements. I never thought to worry about Elspeth, but that was later.

As I mentioned, I was lucky when I set Veronica up in an office. The reason I agreed to the new office and the assistant was Commonwealth of Massachusetts vs. John Dorne. This was an assault case, of a man against his former employer. Mr. Dorne was laid off, a year before his pension vested and days before scheduled surgery. The Union was fighting the layoff, with what they considered a solid case. Following the assault, the company management doubled down.

Mr. Dorne walked into our new office, literally while Veronica was unpacking. He had heard through the grapevine (most likely over beers at a bar) about FDC's work in South Boston. Attached was some vague rumor that FDC was representing parole people in New Hampshire. That might not have gone anywhere, except he also knew of Veronica. To give her due credit, Roni did cut a swath.

The Massachusetts Federation of Commonwealth Employees (MFCE) was considering a class action suit against the employer. Several other employees had been discharged with suspicious timing. What their case needed was statistical analysis showing a pattern and a person with letters after the name to defend them.

Since MBC&L was not the attorney for the Commonwealth entity, we took it on. More practically, I gave it to Veronica and Vivian. I had street knowledge of the area, but Veronica knew it in her bones. Vivian was turning into one of FDC's star talents. In due course I would make her a partner. Between them they would grow the Boston office to twenty full time people in five years.

While my footprint in Boston was expanding, my presence in Manchester was vanishing. The road project was done. Rather than strongly pursue new business, I pulled back to the steady work I had developed in the Capital. Consulting in criminal cases was not lucrative, but it was quick and reliable. Consulting in civil cases was much more involved, but the payout was comparatively large.

As I mentioned, Vivian was becoming a major asset. Years later, I found out that one of Boston's leading law firms had offered her a partnership to jump ship. It was years later, because Vivian never considered the job, or even told anyone about it. As far as she was concerned, it was DOA. What did I do to deserve loyalty like that?

Between court appearances in Concord and executive time in Boston, I spent a lot of time on the road. When the Looksett lease was up, I had moved down to Nashua. It put me closer to Cloudrest and cut the drive to Boston by a third. On December 21, that became important. Allan Morton discovered he had lung cancer. He wanted me to take over his bid for Nashua Alderman. I had barely a week before the year end filing deadline.

You should understand that I remained plugged into the Nashua wife's network, even though I was no longer looking for a house. Indeed, there was an informal club meeting every first Thursday at Edna Gregg's house. We would sit for tea. I would share the progress on Cloudrest. The others in attendance would vary, but there were rarely fewer than six. Thus, I had people I could call to discuss the possibilities.

The results shocked me. If they did not already have a family member running, every one of the ladies urged me to run. Quietly, a couple of the wives or daughters of candidates also urged me to get in. I was reluctant, but I fit the legal requirements, so I paid the $50 filing fee and turned everything over to Elspeth. By this point, she was as familiar to the ladies as I was.

I drove to New Jersey for Christmas with family. Cindy was a cheerful toddler. She thought her big aunt was great fun to ride. While I was home I picked the brains of some of Sean's best consultants. In two cases, I picked his people. My Concord office needed a face lift. I installed one of my two pirated people to supervise the move to the new work space. This time Beacon Light had its own office and a full time staffer. I was hoping to spend a lot less time there.

New Year I spent in Boston with Elspeth and Ro. I enjoyed it. The band played a lot of Latin dance numbers, so I spent some time on the floor. Elspeth was much better than I, but Richard had two left feet. Sheila might have done something with him, but I could not. New Year's Day we went to visit Adele. She and I had a long talk about families and how the generations link. I believe she was genuinely fond of me.

The new year entered with vile weather. Every third day seemed to be a new storm. I spent much of the time either driving at half speed or stuck in one place. One of the times I was stuck in Boston, I decided I had had enough. Sean employed drivers that doubled as bodyguards. I could do the same. Besides, it would give me an excuse to drop in on Mimi.

One of the downsides of military reduction is a supply of unemployed soldiers, sailors, Marines and airmen. Inevitably, some of them fall through the cracks. My old haunts would be an excellent place to meet a few. When I told Sheila I would try to make Cindy's second birthday, I also gave Sean a heads up that I would be recruiting. If Gerald did not find out, Sean was paying him too much.

I debated dropping in on Mimi unannounced vs. giving her time to get some people organized. One would be fun, but the other more useful. I decided to do both. It was a messy, slushy day. I wore the lightest weight of my coats, which I think of as the raincoat. Unlike the naturally gray sealskin coat, this one was dyed black. Evidently my reputation preceded me, because people were muttering about the Dark Queen.

Mimi's reaction was, "Oh my God. Oh my fucking God. Is that you Siobhan?"

We hugged. From what everyone was whispering, it seemed that I was remembered after five years. Interesting. I told Mimi that I did not have time to stay, but that I wanted to make an announcement. I turned to those in the room. They fell quiet without request. Very interesting.

"Good afternoon. My name is Jo Richards. I want to hire a bodyguard slash driver." A week later, we had a cattle call in a nearby basketball gym. Four hundred showed up. I narrowed it down to ten. Three passed the blood test. We piled in the Infiniti and drove to the Residence.

I also acquired the contact information on a number of mechanics, military police, and a handful of former officers. That information was how I planned to pay Sean, for vetting and training my driver. Johnson Lee (his Chinese father picked the most common name in the phone book) was my new driver. On the list of others was an MP First Sergeant, Richard Harold. Without intending to, I had already begun FDC Security Services. Richard would come to Boston a month later.

Cindy's birthday was a big event. Like her mother, Cindy loved to be onstage, but was shy off of it. I could also see the influence of Christine, because Cindy was already a gifted observer. It showed in her body mimicry. When someone talked to her, she would mirror their mannerisms. It was uncanny.

Walking was a frustration for her. While she moved around well enough, Cindy could not copy Sheila to her own satisfaction. Christine was another story. Cindy had Christine's concentration frown down cold. She even talked to herself when she was around Sean. Cindy was a very bright girl.

I took her aside and talked to her. By that I mean that I spoke to her as an equal. I told her that she had good examples. Her mother would teach her how to move. Christine would teach her how to watch. Sean would teach her how to lead. Cindy was cute, so an easy path would be available. I warned her there would be girls like me, i.e. unattractive, who everyone wanted to pick on.

I told her that the harder path made for strength. Impossible examples are the ones to use. Fourteen years later I heard those words in an interview, after Cindy won her fourth Olympic Gold Medal. Somehow I was one of the impossible examples. Who knew? Regardless, brushing up against my own examples always centers me. It's another way to read, "Home is where the heart is."

I went back to politicking with a clearer mind. Johnson drove the car. One of the other candidates rode back with me. The third, Yassar Mayer, landed a position at the Residence. After a stop in Boston, to drop our third and pick up Elspeth, we went to Nashua.

Time was short. The general Alderman elections are on odd years. November stirred things up. I was running in a special election for the ward seven position. Voting day was 7 March, less than three weeks away. Elspeth and her volunteer staff had put out signs. The ladies had worked the gossip line. What was lacking was me.

I was lucky in one way. My three opponents were also newcomers. One had proposed a debate. I agreed with three conditions—1) The debate would be video recorded and posted online, 2) The order of questions would be preset, but the order of answer would be random, 3) High school government classes would serve as a live audience. This format was acceptable to everyone.

The actual debate was anti-climactic. The real event was backstage. Two of my opponents were already cowed by the third, Roger Payne, a local veterinarian. In a comic replay of my meeting Robert Swenson, Mr. Payne tried physical intimidation on someone taller. One of the others snickered. Nothing unsettles a bully more than mockery.

The timing was perfect. When we went out on stage, Mr. Layne was still red faced. More titters. Later in the debate, he demanded to be called Doctor Layne. I mentioned that I could claim Doctor as well, but did not need a crutch. Things did not go well for him. In my closing, I spoke of Cloudrest, my plans for the house and the land, and broader plans for Nashua and Southern New Hampshire.

In the morning, the Nashua Telegraph ran a front page article on the debate, essentially saying I dominated. Two days later, Dr. Layne withdrew, citing lack of time. Neither of the other two put up much of a campaign. I won with almost 57%.

As Gerald would say, "Too easy."

Chapter 25 -- Functions and Transforms

Some people think that Jesse "The Body" Ventura, former wrestling entertainer, never expected to win the Governorship of Minnesota. The day after the special election, that was the way I felt. Like turning twenty one, I seemed no different, but my world had changed. For me, trust fund baby, that meant more than for most. Likewise, the day the election was certified, I received a number of things I had no immediate use for, including an office and a shared clerical person.

I went to inspect the office space. It was exactly what you would expect for a city with significant recent growth—tiny and otherwise inadequate. As usual, I turned things over to Elspeth. My only instruction was to set up virtual meeting capacity, so I could keep office hours from elsewhere. Nashua was the second largest city in New Hampshire, but that was still well under 100,000. In New Jersey it would rank twelfth. Alderman was a part time job.

That said, I intended to do the job. I took the tour of the records office, learned the scope of my access, noted the schedule of meetings and introduced myself to Claire Jones, the assistant I shared with three other Aldermen. I introduced Elspeth as my personal assistant. We spent a week getting up to speed for the first meeting. Like Manchester, Alderman sessions were recorded (literally taped).

That was OK. I found the old tapess of the sessions very illuminating. The elections of the previous November had been a change of power structures. Donna Lee, the current Mayor was largely stripped of her support. Paul Dean and James Dowd either convinced other Aldermen not to run for re-election, or to step down. Following the election, they controlled about two thirds of the votes.

I was replacing Jane Karon, Dowd supporter, who resigned Ward Seven after winning an at-large position (four years, instead of two). Allan Morton was to be her replacement. I was beginning to wonder how real his medical issues were. In any event, I may have done Dr. Layne a favor. He was in neither camp, which might not have been healthy for his business. I am naturally combative. A good fight might be just the thing to improve my humor.

The Board met twice a month. My first meeting was Tuesday, the week after the election was certified. I attended and abstained from every vote. None were close, so my vote did not matter. During the meeting, I watched the other Aldermen and the reporters. It turned our Luck was with me.

James Dowd took audio notes on his smartphone. I could read about half of what he said. The reporters were even better. They talked among themselves constantly. The Telegraph reporter mumbled along as he keyed his reports. Donna Lee was not attending, but her representative spent most of the meeting on the phone. I could not tell all the issues, but it was easy to pick out the teams. Both sides thought I was on theirs. Hilarious.

I could see the reason for the recent political struggle. The city and county had voter approval for up to $11,000,000 in bond issues and/or federal loans. This was for a clean water system of some kind. The primary contract was spelled out prior to the vote. However, many of the side and sub-contracts had yet to be awarded. Someone had to win the contracts. Dean and Dowd had friend and family interests they wanted to promote, so they had sandbagged Donna Lee. It made me tired, but the political landscape made perfect sense.

The question, as always, was what I wanted to do about it. I could have used my position for leverage in the Beacon Light project, but that was firmly established near Manchester. Cloudrest was still a ways down the road and was outside city limits. Once I examined my motives, the biggest reason to do something was that I dislike bullies. I started by figuring what I could do, because there was no sense in attempting the impossible.

With that ball rolling, I took an extended trip to the Capital. The 18 March legislative session was days away. My presence was urgently requested on several issues. I pressed flesh, drank dreadful coffee, gave scripted answers, asked scripted questions and generally did my trained seal act.

In the process, I scouted which reporters, aides or lobbyists were easiest to eavesdrop. Every night I returned with a load of fresh feedback on the day's events. Since lip reading is not a common skill, my staff was stunned at the level of information I could glean just walking around. The evening before the session, I made the rounds of cocktail parties and such. Into a handful of selected ears, I dropped a few carefully vetted hints. Call them introductory offers.

I should mention my Concord staff. It began with myself and Elspeth, doing parole consultations. We still did a respectable number of those. In the year and a half since we started, my staff had grown to ten people, led by Howard Cockerham, whom I poached from Sean. At that, we were using temp service clerical help.

Through luck or skill, I had a very competent team in Concord. I was doing my best to see that their reputation grew. Judging from the reactions, it worked. All but one of my selected Senators and Representatives returned my contact in the morning. Out of those contacts we received a commission to investigate a wrinkle in Affordable Care Act compliance. I went back out with ACA as my target subject.

Not surprisingly, it was an information rich environment. Whether you call it Obamacare or ACA, its proper name, the law is a patchwork, with no defining plan. Significant compliance areas needed to be clarified. Everyone had an opinion on how. Shortly after lunch I tagged the group that seamed to be leading the charge. I let my people know and they let our clients know. We made nothing but goodwill, in most cases, but goodwill is fertile soil.

After the session wrapped, I had catered a lunch for the office. They had earned it. Their contacts and my few hints were distilled into six new clients, at that point. Privately, I was relieved. I may have been a millionaire, but Concord's overhead was stiff. These clients could get us to the break even stage before the September session. Once the wheel is turning, it takes much less effort to keep it going.

My next stop was Nashua for the bi-monthly Board of Aldermen meeting. Again I said very little, but kept my eyes open. By the time I went home, I had a glimmering of a plan. Several of Dean and Dowd's pet companies had locked up bids. However, the big prize was against a company from Manchester, who also had local resources to draw on. If I could spoke the wheels of that wagon, I would.

Nashua took only a couple of days. Boston took a couple of weeks. Unlike Concord, I set up the Boston office on the cheap. By the time I arrived, they needed a hundred feet of rope to replace my original shoestring. I rented an actual office and turned the storefront over to the new investigative division. All they needed was someone to answer the phones. The working people would come to you.