studied people largely for his own advantage, but that did not mean he was not observant. Certainly, he was familiar enough with Stern's nuances to realize he was being told again that he had been a fool.
"How bad will this be?" Dixon asked.
"I think that you should not compare this with your prior encounters with the IRS and the CFTC." The Commodities Futures Trading Commission was the federal agency that regulated the futures industry, the equivalent of the SEC.
"They are bureaucrats and their first love is their own rules. Their minds do not run automatically to prosecution.
Federal grand juries sit to indict. This is a serious business, Dixon."
Dixon mugged up. There was a handsome, weathered look to his eyes.
"Can I ask a dumb question?"
"As many as you like," said Stern.
"What's a grand jury? Really, Besides something that's supposed to make you wet your shorts."
Stern nodded, more or less pleased that Dixon was taking things seriously enough to ask. The grand jury, he explained, was convened by the court to investigate possible federal crimes. In this case, the jurors gathered, by the court's order, every other week, alternating Tuesdays and Thursdays, for eighteen months. They were directed by the United States Attorney's Office, which, in the name of the grand jury, subpoenaed documents and witnesses to be examined at each session. The proceedings were secret. Only the witnesses who testified could reveal what happened. If they chose to. Few individuals, of course, wished to trumpet the fact that they had been haled before a federal grand jury.
"And what kind of chance do I stand with them?" asked Dixon. "This grand jury."
"Very little. Not if the prosecutor decides to indict. It is the U. S.
Attorney's Office we must persuade. Inside the grand jury room, the burden of proof on the government is minimal--ey need merely convince a bare majority of the jurors that here is probable cause to believe a crime has taken place. The prosecutors may introduce hearsay, and the target and his lawyer. have no right to learn. what has taken place or to offer any refutation. It is not what you would describe as evenhanded."
"I'd say," answered Dixon. "Whose idea was this?".
"The framers of the Constitution of the United States," answered Stern.
"To protect the innocent."
"Oh, sure," said Dixon. All things considered, especially given the havoc of a few days ago, he was taking this with stoical calm. But he was, after all, a person Of considerable strength. There was no point in not admiring Dixon. He was one of those fellows Americans had always loved. Dixon had come from one of those bleak Illinois coal mining towns near the Kentucky border. Stern had paid his college and law school bills by driving a punchboard route throughout the Middle West, and when he was out on the road in the riffles, Stern had seen these towns--colorless, square, plain as the prairies, the air sooted with coal dust--placed amid the sensuous pink forms of the earth which had been stripped and raised in the search for coal.
Dixon's father was a German immigrant, a Lutheran minister, a spare, unforgiving, tight-fisted type who had died when Dixon was nine. The mother, sweet-natured but easily trod upon, had depended unnaturally on her son. Stern had not learned any of this from Dixon, but only from his relatives, the spinster aunts and one warmhearted cousin who spoke with admiration of Dixon's early sense that he was destined for more than the numb labored slavery of the coal town.
Behind Stern, the intercom buzzed. No answer at the U. S.
Attorney's Office, Claudia announced. It was two in the afternoon, but the prosecutors answered the phone only when they wanted to. Keep trying, Stern told her.
"One other thing we must determine," he said to Dixon, "is how the government came to launch their investigation. We must try to identify the source of whatever allegations they have decided to examine."
"You mean, who fingered me?"
"If you are
"How bad will this be?" Dixon asked.
"I think that you should not compare this with your prior encounters with the IRS and the CFTC." The Commodities Futures Trading Commission was the federal agency that regulated the futures industry, the equivalent of the SEC.
"They are bureaucrats and their first love is their own rules. Their minds do not run automatically to prosecution.
Federal grand juries sit to indict. This is a serious business, Dixon."
Dixon mugged up. There was a handsome, weathered look to his eyes.
"Can I ask a dumb question?"
"As many as you like," said Stern.
"What's a grand jury? Really, Besides something that's supposed to make you wet your shorts."
Stern nodded, more or less pleased that Dixon was taking things seriously enough to ask. The grand jury, he explained, was convened by the court to investigate possible federal crimes. In this case, the jurors gathered, by the court's order, every other week, alternating Tuesdays and Thursdays, for eighteen months. They were directed by the United States Attorney's Office, which, in the name of the grand jury, subpoenaed documents and witnesses to be examined at each session. The proceedings were secret. Only the witnesses who testified could reveal what happened. If they chose to. Few individuals, of course, wished to trumpet the fact that they had been haled before a federal grand jury.
"And what kind of chance do I stand with them?" asked Dixon. "This grand jury."
"Very little. Not if the prosecutor decides to indict. It is the U. S.
Attorney's Office we must persuade. Inside the grand jury room, the burden of proof on the government is minimal--ey need merely convince a bare majority of the jurors that here is probable cause to believe a crime has taken place. The prosecutors may introduce hearsay, and the target and his lawyer. have no right to learn. what has taken place or to offer any refutation. It is not what you would describe as evenhanded."
"I'd say," answered Dixon. "Whose idea was this?".
"The framers of the Constitution of the United States," answered Stern.
"To protect the innocent."
"Oh, sure," said Dixon. All things considered, especially given the havoc of a few days ago, he was taking this with stoical calm. But he was, after all, a person Of considerable strength. There was no point in not admiring Dixon. He was one of those fellows Americans had always loved. Dixon had come from one of those bleak Illinois coal mining towns near the Kentucky border. Stern had paid his college and law school bills by driving a punchboard route throughout the Middle West, and when he was out on the road in the riffles, Stern had seen these towns--colorless, square, plain as the prairies, the air sooted with coal dust--placed amid the sensuous pink forms of the earth which had been stripped and raised in the search for coal.
Dixon's father was a German immigrant, a Lutheran minister, a spare, unforgiving, tight-fisted type who had died when Dixon was nine. The mother, sweet-natured but easily trod upon, had depended unnaturally on her son. Stern had not learned any of this from Dixon, but only from his relatives, the spinster aunts and one warmhearted cousin who spoke with admiration of Dixon's early sense that he was destined for more than the numb labored slavery of the coal town.
Behind Stern, the intercom buzzed. No answer at the U. S.
Attorney's Office, Claudia announced. It was two in the afternoon, but the prosecutors answered the phone only when they wanted to. Keep trying, Stern told her.
"One other thing we must determine," he said to Dixon, "is how the government came to launch their investigation. We must try to identify the source of whatever allegations they have decided to examine."
"You mean, who fingered me?"
"If you are
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