"Little" Sister Pt. 04

In sum, this was the everyday jewelry of my great-grandmothers. One smaller box contained a number of hair pins and combs, suitable for styles a hundred years ago. Silk scarves and wool shawls were much of the remainder. Winters in New Jersey were mild compared to what I was used to. On E-bay, I could get several thousand for the lot, but not several hundred thousand. That changed with a single small box.

The box was custom made and the top said Tiffany, which gave me some warning. It was a set of custom designed jewelry. There were four pieces, diamonds and rubies set in finely worked gold—two earrings, with pendant teardrop rubies, a diamond and ruby pendant necklace and a diamond and ruby bracelet. The gold weighed at least half a pound, which was the least of the value. Stamped on the back of the necklace were the initials LCT, for Louis Comfort Tiffany.

Also in the box was a piece of paper that may have doubled the value. It was a Tiffany and Company bill of sale, detailing the four pieces. It was written to my great grandmother Blanche Sparks, dated 11 June 1898, for $45,000, signed Charles L. Tiffany, Proprietor. Charles Lewis Tiffany founded the firm and ran it til his death in 1902.

Simple inflation would put that at well over $1,000,000. Because it was well authenticated Tiffany, I suspect Sean would get more than twice that at auction. The box should be carried in a Brinks truck, but Sheila treated it like a nice tennis bracelet.

Knowing Sheila, there would be more. Sometimes being smart is good. Sheila smiled as she produced another box, also from Tiffany. The bill in this one was for $35,000. It was a very good reproduction, using manufactured gemstones, though the gold was still gold. Also included was a thumb drive.

What do you do for something like that? The set was arguably already mine. The real gift was the care it had taken to research the provenance. I had not looked at the thumb drive, but I knew it would contain dozens of images and documents detailing the history of the jewels—measured pictures, newspaper photographs, safety deposit box records, plus the details on every graded gem in the set.

I hugged Sheila close and promised her daughter could borrow them when she was old enough to understand. Then we set about dressing for a portrait, with me wearing the real jewels and Sheila wearing the new set. On a whim, I insisted on another portrait of Christine holding the necklace over Cindy. You can see that one on my desk in Washington.

I gave the real jewels and bill of sale back to Sheila. Security could put them in suitable storage. I drove back to New Hampshire. Though I had gone home to discuss the offer from the law firm, somehow it never came up. Instead, Sheila showed me how much I was worth to the family. Marking your reference points is never a bad thing. I asked for a meeting with the head of the law firm.

It was Monday at lunch. The Senior partners were named Martin Pyle and Sandra Piatowski. Martin was at least seventy, so Sandra probably was the day to day manager. The weather was nasty, so I wore my trademark seal coat over a wool St. Johns suit and a Burberry silk top. I was also wearing the full reproduction set of jewelry. The effect on Ms. Piatowski was worth every penny.

For lunch, I declined soup, because of the silk top. I had a lettuce wrapped steak sandwich, with beans and baby carrots. She had the sandwich with ratatouille and broccoli. I hate broccoli, but the ratatouille looked good. Point for her. Mr. Pyle had French dip, extra cheese, with fries and a pickle. Right. Obviously his advanced age was not because of a lifetime of healthy eating.

We discussed everything but politics for fifteen minutes. As a Yankees and Giants fan, I was at a disadvantage, but sports did not really count. The first break came when she asked about the necklace. I told her it was Tiffany, a reproduction of a 19th century set. She asked me if I knew who owned the original. Too easy. I shrugged and said they were too valuable for casual wear. After a heartbeat she caught the unspoken message.

I must give her credit. When I sandbagged her on the jewelry, she stopped to do a full reset. Burberry and St. Johns, with Tiffany made knock offs is one thing. Owning the original Tiffany is something else. Ms. Piatowski dipped her head, acknowledging the point.

She said, "You're good. I have never had someone say they had hidden depth quite so well. Stories of you and the Governor make more sense. The question is whether we can work together. So far, no one is even sure what party you represent."

I answered, "Thank you. That's high praise from a professional of your stature. The answer is another question. Work together on what?"

That was how I came to front for a Republican highway bill. The bill morphed into an amendment, which was tied to an omnibus finance bill and passed. That counted as a win in lobbying circles. My next project fared less well. It was a variant on the so called Castle Doctrine. The bill never made it out of committee. I turned down two more Republican initiatives, waiting for the right one.

New Hampshire is unusual in that neither Democrats or Republicans dominate. While the state had only voted Republican in the Presidential election once since the 1980s, it was for George W. Bush, when he squeaked out the 2000 election. Four years later, New Hampshire voted for next door neighbor John Kerry, who was the only Presidential loser since 1976. Politically, the state is close to the balance of the country. Believe me when I say that the residents are aware of the fact.

On another side, rural New Jersey is also no stronghold of the Democratic party, despite the states very blue reputation. That comes from the New York and Philadelphia suburbs, which outnumber the rest of the state substantially. Frankly put, the only reason I would lean to Democrats was because I was bisexual. That did not seem like a lot. On the other hand, Mother was a flaming liberal, concerning everything but her own household.

I was of two minds, but I knew I did not want to be pigeonholed. A sure way to do that was to pick a so called "women's issue" as my hallmark. When it came to both abortion and lesbian rights, I tended to think both sides were more wrong than right. Equal pay sounds good until you start dealing with hard numbers.

On the other hand, the glass ceiling was sometimes very real. Sheryl Sandberg'sLean Inhad a number of good points to make about that. That said, she is more a lifestyle coach than a political force. Besides, she and I were of very different temperaments. Her brand of play along to get along works for team players, but I was not one. That was funny, in a way, because I had a team coalescing around me.

I decided I was an free thinker, who did not fit well in either political party. That being the case, I needed to ride the fence as long as possible. Since I had played two Republican issues, I started looking for a Democratic issue for balance. Elspeth found a good one.

As with most cities, Manchester is reluctant to spend serious money on upkeep. This led to a cluster of dangerously old "red listed" bridges. One was being fixed. The issue was that the detour went exclusively through blue collar neighborhoods, even when it made more sense to go another way. Not-in-my-backyard is an eternal political fight. Since one of the major routes used school zones, the teacher's union was leading the fight.

I was hoping to get my toes wet, but the blood was already ankle deep. Our side had media support and community involvement. The other side had a major Boston law firm on retainer. Every protest met with an injunction. Every story met with expert contradiction. That was where I was supposed to come in. I was not expert in bridge engineering, traffic flow or anything else related to the project, but I was an expert on human interactions. More to the point, I had a secret weapon.

City politics are video recorded. One of the advantages of having a Cal Tech brother is that he could get me the best video cleaning programs. We washed about three hundred hours of video for maximum resolution. Elspeth tagged three major players and reduced the three hundred to about forty. One weekend, I sat and watched them chronologically, making notes wherever I could read the lips. Elspeth cross referenced everything against then current events. Monday I started on the first of three pitches.

The first pitch was to the people who hired me. I needed to convince them to change tactics. One given was that the Department of Transportation was cracking down on bridges. A disaster in the Midwest was prodding higher levels of enforcement. Our immovable point was that the bridge would be rebuilt and we wanted it rebuilt. The monied interests, on the other side of the river, just wanted to redirect the local traffic consequences to our side. My point was that we had a product. What we needed was a suitable price.

Once our people wrapped their head around if-they-want-it-they-have-to-pay-for-it, smiles started coming out. Losing a fight is one thing. Getting paid to step aside is something else. They knew they were losing, so my idea looked very good. Naturally, everyone wanted to know how much they could get. That was where my video reprocessing came to play. I told our group that I had been able to get some information from sound filtering of old meetings. It sounded good enough that I earned the go ahead for a formal meeting.

The next pitch was easy. Mayor Gettys wanted to be seen as being involved. He made the call to the homeowner group, offering to mediate a non-binding "exploratory" session with the Teacher's Union. We offered not to picket, provided there were no lawyers, except the city's regular attorney. The conference table would seat twelve, with wall seating for twenty more. We settled on the mayor plus eight from the city, eight from us and eight from the other side. That was perfect. We brought three level heads and five of our worst rowdies. They could scowl all they wanted, but were told not to say anything.

I did nothing for the first hour. Both sides rehashed positions and hunkered down. The Mayor was beginning to look put upon. I raised my hand to be recognized. The mayor was not pleased with our side, but eventually he granted it.

"Mr. Mayor, Aldermen, concerned residents, I have not come to honor this dispute, but to bury it. As has often been the case, might makes right. Perhaps it would be better said, money makes right-of-way. Morgan – Brown – Campo & Lynch have been enforcing that right of way." This brought a protest from the head of one property groups. I gave him the fish eye til he backed down.

I continued, "We have no access to MBC&L billings, but we can make educated guesses. There is usually a three lawyer team at any meeting of the Board. I estimate $2000 an hour, with somewhat lower rates for the committee meetings. Add consultations and other fees, the totals vary from $50,000 to over $100,000 a month. That's well over half a million dollars to date, with a long way to go. I propose you redirect that money to stay in Manchester, provide a few jobs and even some good will. If we can reach an agreement, your attorney bills can end today."

There is nothing like large amounts of money to hold interest. You could have heard a pen drop. I held up several folders. They contained previously defeated projects for things like installation of a stop light and pedestrian crossing signals, resurfacing pavement, funding of crossing guards and so on. All would benefit the area disrupted by the diverted traffic.

"We propose you pay for a pedestrian bridge near the Charter School. Here is an estimate for $210,000. In addition, you will withdraw opposition to these five proposals, which were narrowly voted down in the last two years. What's fair is fair. If you want something, pay for it. We'll even help you take money from your lawyers to do it."

When I said, "pay for it" one of our rowdies said, "Damn right." When I said, "take money from your lawyers" he said, "Screw the blood suckers." which brought general laughter. So began the battle of the citizens of Manchester and the law firm of Morgan – Brown – Campo & Lynch. My speech was only the declaration of hostilities. The whole affair took six more months to unravel. Before it was done, all three sides found occasion to thank me. The lawyers chose another path.

It came in the form of an invitation, from managing partner David Campo, to visit the firm's office in Boston. We dickered on the specifics, but made the appointment. Elspeth and I drove down in Shadow. We met the senior partners at a French bistro calledle Bastille. Who names a restaurant after a prison? I had the baby kale salad and salmon tartar. Elspeth made a face when I ordered the tartar. She had the garden vegetable soup and frisee aux lardons (endive salad with poached eggs).

Our hosts had prime rib, crown roast or porterhouse steak. Sean is a serious beef eater, so I commented that I should have brought my brother. Mr. Campo asked who I meant. That brought up Richards Enterprises and Richards Imports. The international law specialist perked up. When I mentioned that Sean put a carousel in the middle of his wedding reception, they all took notice. One of the younger partners asked if I had anything to do with the wedding.

I bit my tongue and gestured to Elspeth. She said, "Was? Alles?", to which I laughed. I let Elspeth explain exactly what I had done for the wedding. One of the partners had heard of me from his teenaged daughter. Girls in tuxes, standing with their brother, was evidently a fad. This was the first I heard of it. Elspeth showed a picture of me in the suit, beside Sean, then me in the gown with Lars.

I would have stopped there, but she went on to pictures of me with the Otises. That turned heads. One of the partners was a Rice. His wedding reception was at the Peabody House. He and Elspeth went off on Beacon Hill family business. The international expert, a guy name Logan Brown, rolled his eyes. Mr. Campo said, "Too bad you don't know anything about Roxbury. I could use you.", which cut Elspeth off like a knife.

It was time for more pictures, this time of the old me. Mr. Campo knew Mimi by reputation. I rattled off half a dozen legal aid lawyers, plus a few street lawyers from the area. By this point I had their undivided attention. I spread my hands, "Why do you want to know?" The answer was predictable. They had an activist causing problems. I asked for and received a retainer and contact information on the activist.

As we began to collect things to go, Mr. Campo told me that his Roxbury issues were the furthest thing from his mind when he set up the meeting. He just wanted to meet the person that cut through so much crap in Manchester. Laughing as he said it, he told me that if I could fix his Roxbury problem, he would back me in politics.

I held his eye and said, "I won't hold you to that. Someday I may remind you." That sobered him up.

They all went off. I pulled out my phone. It took several calls to reach the right person, but it was worth the effort. "Hello Veronica. This is Jo. We need to meet."