The Confitent
The 2003-Texas redistricting, engineered by none other than Robert himself refers to a controversial mid-decade congressional redistricting plan appealed to the United States Supreme Court in League of United Latin American Citizens versus Rick Perry, the governor at the time. On June 28, 2006, the Supreme Court upheld the statewide redistricting as constitutional, but struck down congressional district twenty-three as racial gerrymandering in violation of Section two of the Voting Rights Act of the United States.
“I LOVE YOU BABY; come on; let’s get married. I can’t think of anyone else I want to spend the rest of my life with,” Robert was proposing to his secretary after a wild night of drinking and love-making.
“But, what about your wife? I thought you loved her very much and I’m only your time-pass when she is busy taking care of the family back home!”
“Honey, don’t you see? I spend all my time with you. My wife is actually a stranger to me; I only see her on holidays!”
Robert continued, “We will stay right here in Washington, DC. With the pension from congress and my consulting gigs, we would do just fine!” That’s how he had consoled his third wife, Carly when it was clear that his high flying days in congress is abruptly coming to a crashing halt when he was convicted of money laundering charges in his home state of Texas.
Although Carly stood for white flower, when it came to matters of the heart she wasn’t anything close to it. What she didn’t know at the time was that his good boy days were finally coming to an end, and he would have to answer to the justice department for his influence pedaling and ethical violations—a conglomeration of all things Robert!
*****
Chapter Eight
“We have a problem; this is driving me nuts!” Carl Potter, one of the community leaders was strongly expressing his displeasure at one of the ‘Listen to the Community’ meetings organized by Congressman Robert’s Office in his constituency in Sugar Land, Texas.
Robert smiled and disarmed them by saying, “Don’t worry, we have plenty of time to listen to all your problems. That’s why we schedule these meetings on a regular basis.” After which, he turned to Carl and addressed his concern, “What seems to be the bone of contention, here, Mr. Potter?”
“You know Mr. Congressman, I work downtown, but I live in your congressional district, because it’s a good place to live and raise my kids.” Carl looked around smiled at the crowd, knowing that everyone present there agreed with him wholeheartedly.
Carl continued, “Matter of fact, Sugar Land was voted the third best place to live in the US, just a few years ago by the Cable News Network’s Money Magazine. My problem is getting to work and back in time to spend a few hours with my family. Thanks to you, we have expanded the Southwest Freeway and the traffic flows smoothly to Houston and back at all hours of the day or night. But because the State of Texas has recently lowered the speed limit to 55MPH from the previous 65MPH, they are creating an artificial roadblock. We need to do something about it!”
“My…, my…, that was quite a speech there Mr. Potter,” Robert remarked as Carl sat down to take a breather. Everyone could see that Carl Potter was clearly excited and he was speaking from the heart. The poor guy must have gotten quite a few tickets from the cops who hide out there on a regular basis, harassing law abiding motorists. The police pick spots on the freeway to be hidden away from unsuspecting commuters, until it’s too late for them to slow down to the posted 55MPH speed limit. Everyone knew the way the cops operated in the area, needing to raise money for a bulging city budget.
“Did you happen to call the state about this?”
“In fact I did; I was told that only an act of Congress can change the speed limit!” Carl sat down to listen to others who might have felt the same way about the speed limit hurting commuters. From the look on everyone’s face, it was understood that there was a general consensus on the matter. The speed limit of 55MPH was not acceptable to anyone assembled there.
“Anyone else wants to add to Mr. Carl Potter’s dilemma? He is chasing the American dream and the cops won’t let him!”
“We are all feeling the same thing, Mr. Congressman,” one of the other middle-aged gentlemen got up and addressed the crowd. Please do something real fast; we are depending on you to take this yoke off our already burdened shoulders!”
“Let me see what I can do. You’ll hear from me about this real soon,” after the comment, Robert whispered something into his assistant’s ear. The attendees surmised that the wheels of the Federal Government would be in motion right away to raise the speed limit to 65MPH!
As promised, Congressman Robert included the speed limit issue as an addendum to another bill that had already been passed by Congress the previous week. It was signed by the president as law and soon, Congressman Robert’s office sent a letter to all the constituents declaring victory and promising that, “I’m working for you in Washington, DC, and please contact my office if you’ve any other impending problems that affect your daily lives!”
*****
Chapter Nine
“Can you keep a secret?” A tipsy Robert was confiding to a New York Times Washington bureau journalist at one of the multitude of parties attended by government bigwigs in the capital city.
“What do you have in mind, Robert?” Stacy Schuler, the reporter responded with an innocent smile. She was game if he had the time. Stacy was always looking out for a breaking story to catapult her to the top spot as one of the nation’s top Pulitzer Prize-winning journalists. She knew Robert was newsworthy and she always shadowed him whenever he was around at one of these events, orchestrated mostly by lobbyists in what is popularly known in Washington, DC as ‘influence pedaling’ disguised as having a good time or simply, ‘blowing off some steam’. Robert’s secret dealings were no longer a secret among the media mavens; but no one had gotten enough fodder to break the story yet. It was being at the right place at the right time!
Stacy knew that Robert wielded a lot of power in congress and he had the president’s ear. No one in the capitol wielded such enormous power, not until Robert came along!
“It’s off the record, alright?” He warned her before proceeding to divulge the top secret information he had. “You know Sophie Chan, the wife of Ambassador Wilbert Miner?”
“Of course, Wilbert is famous for writing that Op-Ed article in the times after his visit to Niger!”
“The same; but here is the thing; are you listening?”
“Yes, I’m,” Robert looked around and whispered, “She’s a top CIA-Operative, and she helped her husband write that article. She provided most of the information as she was assigned to investigate the issue as well!”
“Are you sure about this?” Stacy couldn’t believe her ears. This was enough material to finally publish that article she was pouring all her sweat into, for the past several months.
“This came straight from the Vice-President’s office; but, like I said, don’t quote me on that; because this conversation never took place!” Robert looked at Stacy, winked and sauntered along to the buffet table around the corner. Stacy was all excited; she wanted to race home and ‘hammer away’ at her computer and take the article straight to her editor. She was convinced that this was the missing puzzle that she needed to complete her story. “I’m going to be famous!”
As Stacy had predicted, her editor fell in love with the story and after checking with their in-house lawyer to make sure that everything was legal, the story hit the newsstands the following morning, catapulting Stacy to instant stardom and her phones started ringing off the hooks, as all the major studios tried to book her at the same time before the story got any colder.
“WE HAVE MS. STACY Schuler of the New York Times to talk about the ‘Niger Issue’ as well as the outing of Sophie Chan, the undercover CIA Operative who was assigned to the Niger Case along with ambassador, Wilbert Miner.”
“So, Stacy, what you’re saying is that you believed at the time that the information you got was
trustworthy,” Ms. Diane Sawyer of the ABC News was grilling Stacy about the validity of the information she had reported in the NY Times.
“Yes, in fact, my editors double-checked the relationship between Mr. Miner’s wife and the CIA before the story went to press,” Stacy added.
“But, you know the attorney general’s office might subpoena you citing National Security issues. How do you feel about that?”
“We discussed that, Diane; the NY Times-lawyers felt that it wouldn’t come to that. But we still have the confidentiality issue and there is no way I could be forced to reveal my source!”
“Are you willing to go to jail with that information,” Diane asked with a smile.
“Yes, I would,” Stacy responded. “If I gave that information, no one would ever give any information to the news media ever again and we would be toast. It’s a question of the freedom of the press and democracy!”
“WHAT’RE WE LOOKING at here?” Robert was in a heated-exchange with his lawyer about the outing of Sophie Chan as the undercover CIA Officer. Robert had been summoned to answer to a grand jury and it was important that he get away without being indicted.
“We are looking at two counts of perjury, two counts of making phony statements to federal investigators, and one count of obstruction of justice. If you get indicted, then you’ll have to resign all your government positions right away!”
“But in the remote chance that I am convicted, I could always get a pardon, right?”
“You mean a presidential pardon?”
“Yes; George promised Dick that he wouldn’t let any of his underlings rot in jail. So I should be alright then, right?”
“Well, it all depends on who the president is, by the time your case is concluded. So in the distant chance that you get indicted, we have to push for a speedy trail. A regime change is something we don’t want until we know the outcome of this trial!”
*****
Chapter Ten
“Has the jury reached a verdict?”
“Yes, we have your honor,” replied the foreman of the jury. The bailiff handed the verdict to the judge. After glancing at it, the judge handed the document back to the foreman to be read aloud in court. “You may read the verdict now,” declared the judge.
“We the jury find the defendant guilty of all seven counts,” proclaimed the foreman. I sat there with my face in my hands, wondering how I was going to survive my detention, if the judge actually awarded me time to serve in jail. Since I had a deal with the prosecutors to help them put away my co-conspirators, I was hoping for leniency and probably probation coupled with a seven figure fine admonishing me for my crime, and banning me from lobbying in the future!
I worked as a businessman, a congressman, a lobbyist, and as a government insider and amassed a vast fortune in the process — almost thirty-seven million dollars from healthcare companies alone, all the while showering gifts discreetly on congressional and executive branch officials in both the Clinton and Bush years. During this time, I was bilking Indian tribes off millions of dollars in a charade purported to help them win favors with the federal government. I pleaded guilty to felony counts involving fraud, corruption and conspiracy charges, hoping to avoid an extended jail term. But my prayers were not answered and the judge was not lenient either. I ended up being sentenced to six long years in the Federal Penitentiary!
Did I deserve it? Not really! My guilty plea included an acknowledgement that I took over twenty-five million dollars from the Indian tribes. I lied to my clients, evaded taxes on the tune of about two million dollars and tried to bribe lawmakers to get ahead in my game of deceit. During my reign in Washington, DC, I lavished free meals to lawmakers in very upscale restaurants. I had almost succeeded in stopping the healthcare reform from passing congress!
Did I cross the legal threshold by doing so? I was just following the rules of engagement in Washington, D.C., which was akin to a cat and mouse game, with no end in sight until the mouse finally gets busted for doing what is expected of it. “I was after the cheese, and I knew where it was. I did what came naturally to me; smell the cheese and go after it. Just because the cats passed a law banning cheese-hunting, the mice are not going to stop lusting after it and will overcome all obstacles to attain it!”
When I was growing up, my father had asked me this question, “Robert, listen to me carefully.”
“Yes, dad,” I had said in response. My father continued, “There are two kinds of people in this world; you know who they are?” My father had paused and looked at me. I was just a teenager at the time and had no clue about the ways of the world. There were only three things on my mind at the time: video games, sports, and girls — in that order. I didn’t give a hoot about anything else for that matter!
“Republicans and Democrats?” I had responded to my father’s question disguised to educate me. I knew my father wanted me to make him proud. Who doesn’t?
“No son, you’ve two more tries; you want to try again?”
“I give up dad,” I replied to him hoping to bring a quick halt to his wisdom sermon and get back to what was important to me at that instant. He continued with his point, “The two kinds of people are: the ones that lend money and the second group consists of people who borrow from the first,” He had stopped, looked me straight in the eye and had concluded his sermon by dangling a question in front of me. “So which group do you want to belong to, son?”
I thought for a moment and responded, “Initially I’d be in the second group, dad, since I’ll be too poor to begin with, and then I’ll join the first group, as my debts are paid off!” Robert’s assessment was actually true. When most people get started, they have no money, and they’ll start by borrowing money for a car first, and then once they build up enough credit history, they would buy a house, again with borrowed capital, unless they have a rich father or a father-in-law to help them defray the costs.
But the fact of the matter is that no one ever gets off debt. With a thirty-year mortgage, one could only dream of weaning off debt, which is more like, smoking or drinking for that matter — only few people can actually kick that habit, but many are known to do so!
Lobbying is a risky business in that losing favor with a single politician was all that was required to land one in hot water and make him face the music, when least expected. It’s impossible to keep everyone happy at the same time, but being a lobbyist required such extreme political maneuvers. Again I should mention what my father taught me while I was still growing up. He would be like, “Smile Robert and shake that boy’s hand,” I was like, “But dad, I don’t know that kid!” He had taken me aside and gave me a lecture on how to conduct myself, if I wanted to be successful in this great nation of immigrants.
******
Chapter Eleven
“If you don’t like someone, don’t let them know son,” that was my first lesson on befriending my enemies. Second one went something like this, “Smile at everyone and keep them guessing; don’t let them know what’s on your mind. One bad apple is all you need to bring you down!” I had taken everything my father had taught me to heart and tried to conduct myself like a true gentleman.
My father’s tales of wisdom had come in very handy with the pretty ladies too. They would compete with other girls for my attention and I would let each one know that they were very special to me and close to my heart, “But keep it as our little secret, alright?” My endearing terms were music to their ears and my little words of wisdom got their full attention. I could string them along as long as I wanted, before gently dropping them feigning busy-ness!”
The only mistake I made in my entire political career was getting caught while doing my duty as a law abiding lobbyist. Of course, our rules of engagement were different from that of the common man. We do great things and get away with it. I got carried away and got careless, digging my own grave in the meantime. My influential buddies in congress were not able to save me at this juncture.
What I really am
, is a rich entrepreneur who believes in the American dream like everyone else and trying my level best to attain it. If greasing the government wheels got me into hot water, then so be it. I stand by my actions and promise to do my time and emerge as the ultimate winner in this cat and mouse political game!
Do I regret anything? Of course I do; as part of my plea bargain, I agreed to become a key witness in the corruption investigation that was taking place in congress. Many of my friends have suffered as a consequence of my agreeing to testify. My close friend Jack Daly had decided to abandon his post as a United States House leader as an upshot of my confessions in late 2005.
Twelve of my closest friends, including a member of congress who was the recipient of thousands of dollars' worth of luxury-overseas travel and other gifts including upscale golfing trips abroad — from me and my partners — in return for favors from the government, were all convicted of corruption charges by the end of the year-long witch-hunt.
I feel profound regret and sorrow for my acts that resulted in convicting my close friends; I was only trying to save my own skin but I had miscalculated the enormity of my agreeing to be a star witness. What I did was basically ‘business as usual’ at the high echelons of government. If I passed up the opportunity, then somebody else was going to pick it up and do it — it was just being at the right place at the right time!
If congress didn’t want me to engage in such nefarious activities I allegedly committed, they would have passed laws to prevent them from ever happening at all. The fact of the matter is that retiring congressmen most often end up as lobbyists; this is also the main reason congress refrains from making laws to circumvent corruption in government in the first place. They wouldn’t want anything to happen to the flow of corporate dollars even after they exit politics and take the guise of consultants in hiding.