Operation Greylord Read Online Free

about my son, the FBI mole?”
    My mother, Sarah Kearns Hake, was another matter. She had always been the moral core of our family and had reprimanded me when I stole an ear of corn from a farmer’s field just because other kids were doing it. How proud of me she would be, I thought.
    When I hurried inside my parents’ suburban home and told my mom, I expected her to be as excited as I was. Instead, a cloud came over her broad Irish face. She seemed to look not at but into me and asked, “Are you sure this is what you really want to do?”
    â€œIt has been, all my life.” Ever since I watched The FBI television show.
    â€œIt sounds dangerous to me.”
    â€œBelieve me, Mom, it’ll be all right. I’ll be working with the FBI.”
    With that expression of misgiving we Hake boys knew so well, she sighed and said, “All right, then you might as well do it.”
    Over the next few days, as I thought things over, Reidy and Sklarsky looked up my old application for a job as a special agent, as I could tell from the confidence in their faces at our next meeting. The oval table, the iron-gray rug, the wall of photos—everything was the same, except the mood was more laidback.
    But I was stunned when they outlined the scope of their project. “We want you to go after attorney Bob Silverman,” Sklarsky said. Until now I thought they had only wanted me to get evidence on a few minor fixers. “Silvery Bob” Silverman was one of the most visible, well-liked, and successful defense attorneys in the city. He represented several mob figures even though his brother was a judge admired for his integrity.
    â€œWe’re not only after the fixers,” Sklarsky went on, dropping another bomb. “We want the judges. There’s never been a judge in Cook County who’s been convicted while still on the bench, and we want to show that nobody is immune. Some of them you know, like P.J. McCormick*. Others you’ll have to find ways to get close to, like Wayne Olson, Jack Reynolds, and John Murphy.”
    I couldn’t even grasp it all, let alone fully believe they expected me to help them do all this. Because I’d spent most of my time working at police stations, I had just a few weeks of felony trial experience. What did I know about subterfuge and rigging cases, let alone laying traps?But, then, where could I have learned it? No one had ever tried anything like this before.
    â€œWe understand it might take a few weeks before you can start getting payoffs,” Sklarsky added, “so don’t get discouraged if nothing happens for a while. Hopefully, you won’t be working all by yourself, but for right now you’ll be alone. Do you know anyone who might come over, like your friend Mark Ciavelli?”
    â€œI could ask. I know he’d be good.”
    â€œYou’ll know when the time is right, but clear it with us first. Now, do you have any questions?”
    â€œYeah” came out of my dry throat. Though I felt a little ashamed for thinking of myself at a time like this, I asked, “Suppose everything turns out all right and you get what you want. What happens to me then?”
    â€œFor obvious reasons, we can’t make any promises,” Reidy said in carefully measured words, “but the federal government is a pretty big place. You won’t be forgotten.”
    â€œOkay, then. How do I start?”
    â€œWe want to put you in Olson’s court,” Sklarsky said. “If you get something on him, then maybe you can move up to other judges.”
    â€œHow many are there?” I asked about the suspected jurists.
    â€œThat’s one of the things we’re hoping you’ll be able to tell us.”
    That gave me something more to take home.
    During the anxious weekend before I could be transferred to court work, I wondered how many other attorneys had been approached about going undercover. When Reidy finally