Justice Department

One winter weekend Eli and I drove into the San Gabriel Mts to look for snow. We had to go quite a long way before we found it, all the way to Wrightwood where there is a ski slope. Eli talked me into renting skis and lift tickets. He immediately took to skiing but suffered innumerable falls before he got the hang of it. Afterwards, back in the car and heading home, he told me skiing was probably the most fun he had ever had. Thoughtfully he added, “You know dad, I’m going to have to work really hard because there are so many things I want to do.”At the end of 1999 I had to decide whether to live and work from my office or my apartment. I couldn’t afford both. Since the office rent was double that of my apartment, I chose the apartment. I managed to get out of my office lease and the last job I had for the remaining people who worked for me was to move the office furniture and files to storage. I had rented a storage facility in Pasadena since 1992, primarily for old investigation files. By the time we got all the files moved to storage, I estimated they totaled some 6,000 cases. I had my office telephone number transferred to my apartment and I felt I could live comfortably on the cases I might get if I did most of the work myself. I planned to subcontract some work if it was more than I could handle. I had incurred some debt trying to keep the office open from October 1999 to January 2000, but I was sure I could pay it off and still pay my ex-wife for Eli. My credit was sterling and I still had my 40 acres in Arizona and a few investments. And, as luck would have it, I managed to get on the investigator’s list for the County of Los Angeles. That, with the work I was still getting from the TPA that adjusted claims for Macy’s, I felt fairly secure. I had been devastated by the events that had taken place, but I felt positive and I was determined to rebuild the business.

In January 2000 I learned the Justice Department, Central District in Los Angeles was advertising for an asset investigator. I decided to apply. I put together a letter that described a rather tricky asset investigation I had conducted involving real estate developers. I quickly received a reply from the Civil Division and an interview was scheduled.

I arrived at the interview dressed in my best suit and tie. The Chief of the Civil Division took one look and me and said, “Something is wrong here.” Apparently, I did not fit his image of an investigator. We talked a while after I interviewed with several people at a conference table and then he said he wanted me to meet the Chief of the Criminal Division. We walked across the street and entered another, larger Federal Building.

When I entered the criminal chief’s office I was surprised to see the walls decorated with fine art. Although she seemed all too serious we shared a common interest, art. She pulled out my resume and after busting my chops about a misspelled word, she reflected on my having a BA in fine art. It turned out she had done most of the art hanging on her walls. She met weekly with a small group of artists including Ed Ruche, a highly respected Los Angeles artist. When we finally got down to the business at hand something of a trade off ensued.

The Feds needed an asset investigator to collect many millions of dollars in defaulted student loans, principally from physicians who apparently believed the government was responsible for their education. I told them about databases available to investigators, one in particular that specialized in California records. Seems they were behind the curve on that one. I also told them about my experience at RAND in 1998. The criminal chief asked me if I was a communist. I actually laughed. The civil chief was fairly familiar with covert, black projects and secret assets and as the head of criminal asked questions to which I responded, the head of civil filled in details. My reason for divulging the information was that clearly RAND had violated some federal law by allowing me into a secured area of their building and displaying detailed information of nuclear defense scenarios. I felt the Feds would be obliged to investigate thereby forcing the bad guys to abandon their campaign against me, especially since they violated my civil rights without justification. In fact, I had done nothing other than compile open source information.

Needless to say, I did not get the job with the Feds. But within days the harassment, hang up telephone calls and opened mail, had stopped and I felt the burden of their activity lift from my shoulders. Now, I felt all I had to do recover and move on.

RAND CORP

RAND Corp sting 1998

Eli, my son, was born in 1992 with his eyes wide open. This was nearly nine months to the day after his Japanese mother and I honeymooned on a cruise ship along the Mexican Riviera. His eyes are still wide open. He is tall and slender with dark hair and plays baseball, paintball and Warcraft, among other strategy games, on his computer.In 1998 I received a telephone call from Fireman’s Fund that one of their insureds, RAND Corp. needed a worker’s compensation investigation done. I started my investigation business in 1990 and incorporated in 1992 with the name Chosa Investigation. Although I had almost a dozen employees I decided to do the investigation myself. In hindsight I suspect RAND may not even have been insured by FF.I arrived at RAND in Santa Monica for a scheduled appointment in late 1998 to determine whether or not an accident suffered by a security guard, due to a slip and fall, was compensible. I was somewhat apprehensive for two reasons, one, my previous exchange with VP Rich on the skunkworks newsgroup, and two, the accident had occurred some six months prior to the investigation request. CA law mandates a claims examiner establish liability within 60 days. Something felt wrong.

Upon announcing by identity at RAND’s reception desk a security guard introduced himself as my escort. He said he would find an office for me to interview the injured (who had returned to work) and a witness. After traipsing the hallways in the unsecured portion of the facility for ten minutes the guard announced he could not find an open office. We returned to the lobby where he asked me to wait and he departed. When he returned he told me he had found a free office and he asked me to follow him.

We entered a highly secured area behind double locked cardkey access doors. A quarter of the way down a hallway he opened an office door and invited me in. It was a large office with a desk at the rear and a table and chairs in the center of the room. The guard told me to have a seat and he would retrieve the interviewees. He closed the door behind him when he left.

I glanced around the room and on the south wall I saw a ten foot long blackboard. Hand written on the blackboard was a complete nuclear defense scenario, missile launches, use of B2 bombers, submarines, etc. My mind raced with paranoia. The guard had to know I had a camera and a tape recorder. I avoided looking at the blackboard as the time slowed to seconds of awareness, the ten minutes it took for him to return with the interviewees seemed like an hour.

The interviews were done as quickly as possible, without taking individual statements as is normally done in such investigations. I departed the facility without taking photos of the accident scene and with undue hast. On my way back to my office in Pasadena I made a stop to hit a few golf balls at a nearby driving range to steady my nerves. When I returned to my vehicle I found it had been broken into and my briefcase was gone.

I telephone the South Pasadena PD. A report was filed. I stressed the seriousness of the situation, that my briefcase contained names, dates of birth and social security numbers of RAND security personnel. For those who don’t know, RAND is a think tank begun in 1948 under the initial supervision of Gen. Curtis LeMay to conduct research for the Air Force, most top secret. They developed such concepts as the “first strike scenario.”

A week and a half later I received a telephone call from the South Pasadena PD that a anonymous caller informed them my briefcase could be found in a park next to a trash can. They picked it up and had it at the station. I immediately drove there and retrieved it and heaved a sigh of relief when I found all my papers were there. But the papers had been shuffled. Notes I had taken from research I’d regarding nuclear propulsion had been pulled out of one of the sleeves and placed on top. I could only think to myself they must have thought I was some kind of spy. I later explained this to the Central District Justice Department in Los Angeles to the heads of the civil and criminal divisions in 2000. But what I did not say was that this story really began in March 1995 at Area 51 in Nevada.

Least anyone should doubt my story I will provide url’s, whats left anyway after they destroyed a ten year old database on the east coast that I posted to as well as postings elsewhere, to substantiate my claims. Additionally, the police report in South Pasadena should still be there and other related documents pertinent to this story-articles of incorporation, etc.