Rory (Hope City #7) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,77

Russia in the late 1800s. His father got work on the docks. By the early 1900s, electricity was now being used in industries, and Feodore was an adult and quickly learned what he could, becoming indispensable around the docks as he worked with the wiring to supply this new energy source. By the first World War, his personal wealth grew from just a dockworker to a great deal more, and while never proved, the supposition was he had the backing of men with deep pockets who wanted the most modern ways to work the docks and harbor. Chances are that money came both from the Russian Mafia, which would’ve been well-rooted in his neighborhood, and those in positions of power in Hope City.”

Rory shook his head and asked, “Dad, how do you know all this?”

“I was just going to ask the same thing.” Erin had finished her pie and set her plate down, drawing her feet up into the chair, wrapping her arms around her shins and resting her head on her knees. “This is fascinating. Way more interesting than what I learned in high school history.”

“All this was history that came around to bite us in the ass when I was first an FBI agent in Hope City. Again, it wasn’t my case, but it was in the news at the time.” He set his dessert plate down, offering Sharon an appreciative smile and wink. Settling deeper into his chair, he continued his story.

“By this time, Feodore’s parents had passed, and wanting a more generic name, he started going by Frederick Perkins. He never had his name officially changed, but he simply adopted a new name, and it is what was used by the rest of the family. He stopped working for the docks and started his own business, Perkins Electrical Company. He hired and trained as many electricians as he could get his hands on, cornering the market in Hope City by World War II. There were laws that were supposed to be in use for monopolies, fair business practices, and certainly war profiteering, but it doesn’t seem like any of those affected him. Perkins Electrical grew to be a multimillion-dollar business that continued to profit as the economy grew after the war. His son, the next Frederick Perkins, took over in the 1960s. He turned out to be more ruthless than his father. Where the FBI came in was in the late 1990’s when it was discovered Perkins Electrical was paying off Hope City officials, gaining contracts and paying off inspectors.”

Nodding emphatically, Sandy said, “That’s what I was finding out, but I had no idea about his history.”

“Hope City was rife with corruption. Payoffs went to the Russian Mafia and Italian Mafia. Neither who liked each other, by the way, but both working the officials on the take,” Colm continued.

“They were found guilty and had huge fines, right?”

“Yes. Frederick Perkins, Junior, was found guilty and only missed jail time because he died soon after the trial. Perkins Electrical had huge fines levied against them, which they managed to pay off easily.”

Rory snorted. “Probably paid off by the Mafia.”

Colm nodded. “Undoubtedly. The family was taken over by the next son, Theodore Perkins. He worked with the feds, supposedly rooted out all the illegal activities, and cleaned house. At the same time, Hope City officials were doing the same thing. Corrupt officials that had been in power for a long time were retiring to avoid prosecution. Newer, younger people were hired and running for office. Things changed for the better, and to be honest, I haven’t heard anything about Perkins Electrical in a while.”

Sandy slumped back against Rory and sighed. “I’ve probably made a big deal about nothing. I’ve seen some shoddy work that I don’t think should pass inspection. But that doesn’t mean there’s a systemic problem. It could just mean that they’ve hired a few electricians who aren’t very good at their job. I’ve brought it up to Anthony Partridge as well as Dave, the man in charge of the office floors of the building construction.”

“Then I think you’ve done everything you can,” Colm said. “As innocent as it seems, you don’t want to stir up anything to do with the Russian Mafia. If you think you’ve come up with something, let me know, and I’ll pass it along to my fellow agents at the Bureau.”

Rory turned to her and raised his eyebrow, but she quickly reminded him, “I’m not whacking a hornet’s nest, honey. I’m not