Authors: Myles (Mickey) Golde
After several minutes she sat upright and turned away from him. “Victor, you self righteous hypocrite,” she hissed. “It’s always about you. How can you humiliate me and our family this way. All these years, you’ve lied to me, and now you say I don’t understand. I hate what you are doing to us. You lying son of a bitch.”
Her chair scraped loudly across the floor as she jumped up and raced to the bedroom. He followed quickly, stopping at the entrance to the room. In a rage, arms flying, she was throwing things from his closet onto the bed and floor.
“Get out,” she sobbed, moving to his dresser and attacking the drawers, flinging underwear, and socks across the room.
“Please Darlene, let me explain,” he said stepping closer.
“Explain what,” she shouted. “How you’ve been in love with Mitzi all these years. No, I’m not interested. Get a goddamn suitcase and get the hell out of here; ……now. I can’t stand the sight of you.”
Holding the papers against his chest, he stood motionless, mouth open, unable to speak.
She turned to confront him, hair a tangled mess, blouse pulled out of her skirt which was hanging unevenly and not covering a wide run in her hose, she let out a long disgusted breath.
“I’m,” he started.
“Don’t say anything, just leave,” she sighed. I’ve had enough for one night”
As soon as Vic received the final okay to form the Crime Commission, he began operating out of a two-thousand-square-foot office in the Monadnock Building, on West Jackson. Using rented furniture and a temporary secretary, he began by interviewing prospects for a chief investigator.
Five individuals were being considered, the third of which was Kevin O’Malley, an attorney on the faculty of John Marshall Law School. O’Malley had distinguished himself as a prosecutor in the Cook County State’s Attorney’s office, right out of Law school followed by a dozen years as a respected criminal defense attorney and educator.
The interview took place on Vic’s second day in the new office. Sitting in his shirt sleeves at a six foot folding table with a telephone and a notepad, Vic looked up as O’Malley, a tall man with close cropped hair, walked through the small reception room and knocked on the door.
Vic stood to greet him. O’Malley looked around, adjusted his tie and unbuttoned his suit jacket. “Nice digs,” he joked, a smile forming on his long narrow face as they shook hands.
“Take your jacket off and make yourself comfortable,” Vic offered motioning him to take a seat in the folding chair opposite his own.
“Thanks, but I’m comfortable,” O’Malley answered.
Chuckling, Vic replied, “I was told you’re a stickler about your appearance.”
O”Malley shrugged. “Yeah, I always want to look like I think a lawyer should look. It gives the clients confidence.”
Vic nodded. “But more important, I’ve heard you’re a serious lawyer’s lawyer.”
Grinning, O’Malley twitched a shoulder. “I Iike what I do, if that’s what you mean.”
“That’s good to hear,” Vic said, and began explaining the goals of the commission and the commitment that the County Board made to him. O’Malley listened attentively, at times raising a hand to his chin but asking few questions until Vic went over his plan for staffing.
“Mr. Wayne,” he interrupted, leaning forward.
“Call me, Vic, Kevin.”
“All right, then, Vic. I like what you’re telling me, but I disagree with how you’re going about hiring investigators.”
Vic spread his hands flat on the table and sat upright. “But what’s wrong with new graduates from the best schools across the country? They’re bound to be bright and they wouldn’t have gotten through those programs without a good work ethic.”
“You miss the point, Vic,” offered O’Malley slowly. “This is Chicago. In Cook County, we don’t want just anybody from anywhere. Give me local people who know how things operate in this city. They’ll understand what we’re looking for. Let me put together a team this way and I’ll promise you results.”
They talked for another fifteen minutes, O’Malley insisting on a free hand in hiring if he took the job and parting with an agreement to talk further the following week.
Later the same day, Vic hired Marilyn Lewinski, a forty eight year old legal secretary as his assistant, giving her, a diagram of the office, a budget to rent furniture and equipment, and thirty days to get the place looking like an office. Seeing her look a bit overwhelmed he suggested she contact Connie, his office manager at Wayne Construction if she needed help.
After Marilyn left, Victor drove up to the house in Highland Park. He parked in the driveway and rang the bell, hoping to surprise Darlene and maybe getting her to talk to him. .
From the other side of the door, he heard her. “Go away, I told you to call first if you needed to get anything from the house so I could make sure I was gone.”
In his mind he had been rehearsing what he would say when he got there, but now he hesitated, waiting for words to come. With his hand on the door, he sighed. “Please Darlene, open the door. I have to talk
to you
.”
“I’m not ready to talk, it hurts too much.”
Through the prisms of the etched glass panels in the door, he could see her sanding a few feet away.
“Darlene, I know you don’t believe me, but I hate myself for hurting you. Please let me in so we can talk. It’s been a month…. I have some things I need to tell you.”
He heard the click of the lock as the door opened a few inches and he pushed it. . She backed away, turning and retreating to the den. Vic followed her in. She sat in her usual spot on the green leather love seat. He made a motion to sit next to her, causing her to slide away. He settled for sitting kitty-corner on the couch.
She shifted further away when he reached for her hand. Her right hand supported her left elbow as she held a tissue to her mouth. Scooting all the way to the other side of the love seat, she kicked off her shoes and tucked her legs under her.
They sat this way for several minutes. The soft sound of the blinds rustled in the background as the furnace fan kicked in under them.
Vic bent forward, elbows resting on his knees. Looking down and away she carelessly fluffed her hair, which appeared shorter and a shade brighter than usual. “You look great, I like what you did with your hair,” he said, smiling.
“Please Victor,” she said sarcastically, “Don’t think you can come in here and start conning me with compliments,” she replied, not bothering to look his way.
‘Look baby, I,”
“This is a bad idea, there is nothing you say that I believe,” she interrupted covering her eyes with her hands.
“But,” he sputtered.
Flinging her hands down in disgust, she said, “Victor, don’t speak to me, just get out. You’ve made a mockery of our marriage and a fool of me. If you want anything here call, I don’t want to see you.”
Slowly rising and starting for the door, Vic turned.
“Get out; she screamed hurling a heavy wooden book-end at him.
“Goddamit Darlene, I just want to talk, don’t get so crazy,” he shouted retreating. Getting up she lunged at him striking his shoulder with her fist,
“Okay, okay,” he said holding up his hands and backing toward the door. “I’m sorry,” he said closing the door behind him.
“I don’t think we have enough to go to the Feds with this yet,” O’Malley said without looking up. “We’ve interviewed Bill Jefferson’s girl friend and the two other people from his Ward that formed a company at his urging called Westown Contractors to do some painting for the schools on the west side. None of them has seen any records or received any money from the profits of the company. In the meantime the girlfriend says that Jefferson keeps the company checkbook under lock and key in his Ward office, but in the last year, had her sign and cash four company checks made out to her totaling over twenty eight thousand dollars and gave all the cash to him.”
They were in Vic’s office at the Crime Commission, Jim Vogel and O’Malley sitting across from Vic. A heavy downpour of rain and splashing of traffic on Dearborn Street two floors below could be heard through the large office windows as they talked. Jim had come to discuss the statement he was preparing for Vic to announce his candidacy for Congress in the upcoming primary election. O’Malley was brought in because Vic wanted Jim to hear the information about Alderman Jefferson and use it for some publicity before the announcement.
“That’s not all, Jefferson had the girlfriend hire Alden Decorators, a white outfit to sub-contract the job which was supposed to be a minority set aside,” O’Malley went on.
“Oh man, “Jim whistled. “This guy really has balls.”
“Easy Jim,” chided Vic, “I want to make sure we do this right. The alderman is a powerful guy and he’s one of the mayor’s biggest supporters in the black community. We’ll have to handle this very carefully.”
O’Malley added, “I’ve also checked out Alden. They’re clean, everything they did was legal and they got their money with Westown checks signed by the girlfriend every time the company got paid by the school board.”
Finishing his report, O’Malley excused himself.
Vic looked at Jim. “What do you think?”
“Are you kidding, I can see the headlines now. Jefferson is big news and it’s just the kind of publicity we need,” smiled Jim. “I’ll get something going in the papers this week without any names and we can make your announcement next week as planned. Later when you’re ready we can nail the Alderman and you’ll look great.”
“I thought you would be interested. Just be sure you run everything by me before you go off half-cocked. I don’t want this to backfire.”
It had been a year since the formation of the Crime Commission. Two Chicago Aldermen, a state legislator and an officer of the Cook County Sheriff’s Department were under investigation. In addition one city building inspector had been sentenced to a year in prison after pleading guilty to bribery based upon information developed by the commission.
Two months after their stormy encounter in Highland Park, Darlene had relented somewhat. Handing Vic an invitation to the wedding of the daughter of a close friend at the front door, when he came to retrieve some mail, she said, “Victor, I’m sorry I lost my temper, when I saw you last, but I haven’t changed my mind.”
“Please, I” he started to say, but was cut off.
“Don’t say anything. I’m not happy, but I think we should be civilized. I haven’t said anything to anyone, other than Ben and Jeff about what is going on with us, and hope that you haven’t either. For the time being that’s the way I want it. The boys, as you know have promised to abide by our decision. So I think we should go to the wedding together. If we don’t, I know people will talk and I don’t want that.”
She backed away as he reached out to her, saying only, “Okay, I hear you. I want to be with you and be your husband. You know how I feel about you.”
“No I don’t know, but for now let’s keep things the way
they are
.”
The day of the wedding he picked her up at home and dropped her off afterward without going in. The evening had gone well and she agreed to attend a JUF Dinner Dance with him the following month. Without saying anything to anyone about the separation, they began attending other gatherings and events. Darlene insisted however they personally avoid any discussion of their marriage or living arrangements. Inquiries by friends were brushed aside or ignored. Vic attempted to talk to her on a few occasions, but was quickly rebuffed.
Darlene continued to work at the United Fund and they attended some political gatherings which were important for him and she appeared to enjoy. Vic also was impressed and pleased that she was so popular with folks at these meetings who knew her from prior years, when she worked with her boss who was active in the party politics. Being together also gave them the opportunity to calm the bitter atmosphere of their split and relax with one another; which encouraged him.
Three weeks after the meeting with Jim Vogel and O’Malley, Vic and Darlene were driving home from a United Fund event that Darlene had organized. She had invited him because several important executives and their wives were attending who she thought he would like to meet.
Smiling she said, “you looked like you were enjoying yourself tonight.”
“Yep, met a lot of people.”
“I was watching you. You’re getting ready to do something, aren’t you? That, plus the article in the Sunday Sun-Times two weeks ago was a dead give-away. I bet Jim worked overtime on that. All those accomplishments and compliments I’m sure the County President loved it.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled, “what would you say if I let you in on a little secret?”
Turning to look at him, she smiled raising her eyebrows.
“I’m announcing a run for Congress and you’re right, Jim got his friends at the Sun-Times to write the article.”
Darlene giggled, “I figured it was something like that. You’ve always had a yen to go for an elected office.”
Keeping his eyes on the road, he smiled.
“The congressman has been hounded by reporters lately for some real estate deals that have come under scrutiny. It appears there was some kind of payoff and he’s decided it would be better to just retire, rather than risk being defeated; or worse, be indicted. According to Jim, it’s going to be a wide open race and I’ve got a good chance, especially with the publicity I’ve been getting lately.”
“Victor, are you sure? Going for something like this is a dangerous and time consuming business,” she said suddenly, her jaw jutting out as she directed her gaze at him. “What about your brother and the business, is he in favor of you getting so involved?”
“I haven’t said anything to Frank, but he’s been encouraging me for a long time.”
Shaking her head, Darlene sighed, “I know what this rat race is about and I see you going to political meetings nights and week-ends, never having time for anything else.”
“Look, I admit I like the attention I’m getting, but we’re doing something good at the Crime Commission, and I want more. The seat is going to be up for grabs and I know I can get the mayor and county president to back me. Jim tells me the governor will go along with anyone they like. So don’t worry I’ll keep my head on straight.”