KeyError('$176') on decrypting certain Kindle books

[shape55]

Hi, I'm using Kindle app 1.26.1 (55093), the latest Calibre 5.40, and the latest DRM tools 10.0.2 but am getting this error when trying to convert any .azw files to EPUB from this Exposure book series only (all other books I've tried convert fine):

ERROR: KFX conversion failed: Cannot convert Ms. Mirage (Exposure collection) KeyError('$176')

[shape55]

Here is the log:

calibre Debug log calibre 5.40 embedded-python: True is64bit: True macOS-10.15.7-x86_64-i386-64bit Darwin ('64bit', '') ('Darwin', '19.6.0', 'Darwin Kernel Version 19.6.0: Tue Feb 15 21:39:11 PST 2022; root:xnu-6153.141.59~1/RELEASE_X86_64') Python 3.8.5 OSX: ('10.15.7', ('', '', ''), 'x86_64') Interface language: None Successfully initialized third party plugins: Gather KFX-ZIP (from KFX Input) (1, 47, 0) && DeDRM (10, 0, 2) && Package KFX (from KFX Input) (1, 47, 0) && KFX metadata reader (from KFX Input) (1, 47, 0) && KFX Input (1, 47, 0) calibre 5.40 embedded-python: True is64bit: True macOS-10.15.7-x86_64-i386-64bit Darwin ('64bit', '') ('Darwin', '19.6.0', 'Darwin Kernel Version 19.6.0: Tue Feb 15 21:39:11 PST 2022; root:xnu-6153.141.59~1/RELEASE_X86_64') Python 3.8.5 OSX: ('10.15.7', ('', '', ''), 'x86_64') Interface language: None Successfully initialized third party plugins: Gather KFX-ZIP (from KFX Input) (1, 47, 0) && DeDRM (10, 0, 2) && Package KFX (from KFX Input) (1, 47, 0) && KFX metadata reader (from KFX Input) (1, 47, 0) && KFX Input (1, 47, 0) devicePixelRatio: 2.0 logicalDpi: 72.0 x 72.0 physicalDpi: 132.00000198244115 x 132.50000198995036 Using calibre Qt style: True [0.00] Starting up... [0.25] Showing splash screen... [1.23] splash screen shown [1.23] Initializing db... [1.27] db initialized [1.27] Constructing main UI... [5.68] main UI initialized... [5.68] Hiding splash screen Starting QuickView [15.11] splash screen hidden [15.11] Started up in 15.11 seconds with 1 books Gather KFX-ZIP (from KFX Input) 1.47.0: Importing /Users/shape2/Library/Application Support/Kindle/My Kindle Content/B07QHBCGJL_EBOK/B07QHBCGJL_EBOK.azw Gather KFX-ZIP (from KFX Input): Gathered 9 file(s) as /var/folders/77/l619y4256td6rb3q2p96lwhh0000gn/C/calibre_5.40.0_tmp_06gxd6m6/a63wk4kc.kfx-zip DeDRM v10.0.2: Trying to decrypt a63wk4kc.kfx-zip Using Library AlfCrypto Python Using Library AlfCrypto Python Decrypting KFX-ZIP ebook: a63wk4kc Got DSN key from database default_key Found 1 keys to try after 0.6 seconds Decrypting KFX DRM voucher: amzn1.drm-voucher.v1.20791d94-0366-4684-9a59-4ab21c9d8886.voucher Traceback (most recent call last): File "calibre_plugins.dedrm.kfxdedrm", line 83, in decrypt_voucher voucher.decryptvoucher() File "/var/folders/77/l619y4256td6rb3q2p96lwhh0000gn/C/calibre_5.40.0_tmp_06gxd6m6/o83o7y_zplugin_unzip/ion.py", line 879, in decryptvoucher b = pkcs7unpad(b, 16) File "/var/folders/77/l619y4256td6rb3q2p96lwhh0000gn/C/calibre_5.40.0_tmp_06gxd6m6/o83o7y_zplugin_unzip/ion.py", line 758, in pkcs7unpad _assert(paddinglen > 0 and paddinglen <= blocklen, "Incorrect padding - Wrong key") File "/var/folders/77/l619y4256td6rb3q2p96lwhh0000gn/C/calibre_5.40.0_tmp_06gxd6m6/o83o7y_zplugin_unzip/ion.py", line 98, in _assert raise Exception(msg) Exception: Incorrect padding - Wrong key KFX DRM voucher successfully decrypted Warning: This book is licensed as Prime. These tools are intended for use on purchased books. Continuing ... Decrypting KFX DRMION: B07QHBCGJL_EBOK.azw Decryption succeeded after 1.0 seconds DeDRM v10.0.2: Finished after 1.3 seconds Package KFX (from KFX Input) 1.47.0: Packaging /var/folders/77/l619y4256td6rb3q2p96lwhh0000gn/C/calibre_5.40.0_tmp_06gxd6m6/mviqr8vk.kfx-zip Processing container: B07QHBCGJL_EBOK.azw Processing container: CR!55GYXNBXN16V575KAWDDWESEP0Q7.azw.res Processing container: CR!AEXXPEXGCX1ZSDC6EH33C2NQWFG7.azw.res Processing container: CR!CGF73JQMAH3533EJDBA7VXARDXT9.azw.md Processing container: CR!DDQDB5SVTD7Y119YQ9K1X2ZYDAGM.azw.res Processing container: CR!JYV61SD0MS58H7952PAG15GPTPST.azw.res Processing container: CR!K5Q1V07CK97079D76N0P0N80MGK9.azw.res Processing container: CR!NBV3GY9MRS121290HT4KM7VX4K77.azw.res position map eid 1404 offset is 61, expected 62 position_id map extra at idx=2, chunk: pid=2 eid=915 len=1 sect=c9 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=2, chunk: pid=2 eid=909 len=1 sect=c9 text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=3, chunk: pid=3 eid=909 len=1 sect=c9 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=3, chunk: pid=3 eid=912 len=1 sect=c9 text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=4, chunk: pid=4 eid=912 len=1 sect=c9 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=4, chunk: pid=4 eid=917 len=1 sect=c9 text=None img=eH position_id map extra at idx=5, chunk: pid=5 eid=917 len=1 sect=c9 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=5, chunk: pid=5 eid=915 len=1 sect=c9 text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=6, chunk: pid=6 eid=938 len=1 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=6, chunk: pid=6 eid=927 len=1 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=7, chunk: pid=7 eid=927 len=1 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=7, chunk: pid=7 eid=929 len=1 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=8, chunk: pid=8 eid=929 len=1 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=8, chunk: pid=8 eid=940 len=39 sect=cR text='Text copyright © 2019 by Tone Group LLC' img=None position_id map extra at idx=9, chunk: pid=9 eid=931 len=1 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=9, chunk: pid=47 eid=942 len=20 sect=cR text='All rights reserved.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=10, chunk: pid=10 eid=934 len=1 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=10, chunk: pid=67 eid=944 len=232 sect=cR text='No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=11, chunk: pid=11 eid=940 len=39 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=11, chunk: pid=299 eid=945 len=30 sect=cR text='Published by Amazon Publishing' img=None position_id map extra at idx=12, chunk: pid=50 eid=942 len=20 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=12, chunk: pid=329 eid=946 len=12 sect=cR text='www.apub.com' img=None position_id map extra at idx=13, chunk: pid=70 eid=944 len=232 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=13, chunk: pid=341 eid=949 len=102 sect=cR text='Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Amazon Publishing are trademarks of Amazon.com , Inc., or its affiliates.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=14, chunk: pid=302 eid=945 len=30 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=14, chunk: pid=443 eid=951 len=20 sect=cR text='eISBN: 9781542092135' img=None position_id map extra at idx=15, chunk: pid=332 eid=946 len=12 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=15, chunk: pid=463 eid=952 len=29 sect=cR text='Cover design by Rex Bonomelli' img=None position_id map extra at idx=16, chunk: pid=344 eid=949 len=102 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=16, chunk: pid=492 eid=953 len=1 sect=cR text=None img=e18 position_id map extra at idx=17, chunk: pid=446 eid=951 len=20 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=17, chunk: pid=493 eid=931 len=1 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=18, chunk: pid=466 eid=952 len=29 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=18, chunk: pid=494 eid=934 len=1 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=21, chunk: pid=497 eid=953 len=1 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=21, chunk: pid=497 eid=938 len=1 sect=cR text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=22, chunk: pid=498 eid=967 len=1 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=22, chunk: pid=498 eid=957 len=1 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=23, chunk: pid=499 eid=957 len=1 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=23, chunk: pid=499 eid=959 len=1 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=24, chunk: pid=500 eid=959 len=1 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=24, chunk: pid=500 eid=863 len=10 sect=c1M text='Undercover' img=None position_id map extra at idx=25, chunk: pid=501 eid=961 len=1 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=25, chunk: pid=510 eid=970 len=11 sect=c1M text='Winter 1970' img=None position_id map extra at idx=26, chunk: pid=502 eid=963 len=1 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=26, chunk: pid=521 eid=972 len=461 sect=c1M text='She had been working in the nursing home for only a couple of days, so Pam was still getting used to the smells: In the lunch room, the scent of cheap raw beef. In closets, the smell of vermin and their droppings. And everywhere, the stench of human excrement, unwashed from bedpans and caked onto clothes. It was so powerfully repellant in some rooms that Pam had to fight the urge during her first shifts to sneak the residents out in the middle of the night.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=27, chunk: pid=503 eid=863 len=10 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=27, chunk: pid=982 eid=975 len=72 sect=c1M text='Now, in the bathroom, the smell of unwashed flesh consumed her nostrils.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=28, chunk: pid=513 eid=970 len=11 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=28, chunk: pid=1054 eid=977 len=458 sect=c1M text='“Goddamn it!” her supervisor was saying. Two elderly residents, a man and woman, were standing face-to-face. They were supposed to be undressing, but they were hesitating. Outside, single-digit air whipped off Lake Michigan and lashed Chicago’s North Side. Inside, the windows and doors of the Melbourne Nursing Center let the cold air slip through, and the heater failed. It was so cold that Pam’s new coworkers had warned her to bring layers for her shift.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=29, chunk: pid=524 eid=972 len=461 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=29, chunk: pid=1512 eid=978 len=71 sect=c1M text='“Hurry up!” her boss shouted at the patients. “I have no time for you!”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=30, chunk: pid=985 eid=975 len=72 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=30, chunk: pid=1583 eid=979 len=216 sect=c1M text='Shivering, they pulled down their pants and underwear and lifted their shirts over their heads. “But he’s not my boyfriend,” the woman said. She covered her breasts with her sweater and pressed her kneecaps together.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=31, chunk: pid=1057 eid=977 len=458 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=31, chunk: pid=1799 eid=980 len=667 sect=c1M text='Pam watched, quieting her impulse to shout down her boss and drape the patients in warm towels until their bones fell still. She knew better. She knew those were the kinds of impulses that would get her fired, and then what? What of the other 193 patients, elderly and mentally disturbed, who were scattered across the facility in various states of helplessness? Of the malnourished woman in the lunchroom Pam had seen force-fed a cold meat patty by another aide? Of the woman who begged for a blanket and was told she reeked like “four Mississippi mules”? Of the woman who’d wandered out of her room and was told she would get her head broken in if she did it again?' img=None position_id map extra at idx=32, chunk: pid=1515 eid=964 len=1 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=32, chunk: pid=2466 eid=981 len=240 sect=c1M text='Pam could run or Pam could fight. She knew she had a job to do. So she stood by as the man and woman stepped into the shower. The icy water punished their bodies. Pam’s supervisor handed her a pillowcase. “Dry them off with this,” she said.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=33, chunk: pid=1516 eid=966 len=1 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=33, chunk: pid=2706 eid=982 len=387 sect=c1M text='Pam was twenty-six, small and strong, with a sunburst of red hair that helped soften her angular face, all cheekbones and jawline. She said nothing but met their eyes with hers, which were small and green and, in that moment, as warm as she could make them. She dabbed at the residents with the thin cotton. Her boss barked at them to redress in the same clothes they’d just slipped off.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=34, chunk: pid=1517 eid=978 len=71 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=34, chunk: pid=3093 eid=983 len=35 sect=c1M text='“Put those back on?” the man asked.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=35, chunk: pid=1588 eid=979 len=216 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=35, chunk: pid=3128 eid=984 len=66 sect=c1M text='“I haven’t got anything else to put on you,” the senior aide said.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=36, chunk: pid=1804 eid=980 len=667 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=36, chunk: pid=3194 eid=985 len=934 sect=c1M text='And so they dressed. Pam did what she could to help, with them and the patients who came after, who bathed in progressively colder water and toweled off with even more hopeless provisions. She tried to freeze the unpleasant images in her mind, since she knew now wasn’t the time to pull the small camera from her pocket. She took solace in the fact that her colleagues were fanned out across the city doing the same—that somewhere her new friend, the shape-shifting wizard they called Reck, was enduring the same sights, sounds, and smells. They would compare notes soon enough. But first Pam had to make them. So when her shift finally ended, Pam Zekman slipped into her winter coat and trudged through the cold to her car, an old sedan that suited both her job as a nursing home assistant and her job as a young journalist for the Chicago Tribune. She cranked up the heater, pulled the notebook from her pocket, and started writing.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=37, chunk: pid=2471 eid=981 len=240 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=37, chunk: pid=4128 eid=961 len=1 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=38, chunk: pid=2711 eid=982 len=387 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=38, chunk: pid=4129 eid=963 len=1 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=39, chunk: pid=3098 eid=983 len=35 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=39, chunk: pid=4130 eid=964 len=1 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=40, chunk: pid=3133 eid=984 len=66 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=40, chunk: pid=4131 eid=966 len=1 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=41, chunk: pid=3199 eid=985 len=933 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=41, chunk: pid=4132 eid=967 len=1 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=42, chunk: pid=4132 eid=985+933 len=1 sect=c1M text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=42, chunk: pid=4133 eid=987 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=43, chunk: pid=4133 eid=997 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=43, chunk: pid=4134 eid=989 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=44, chunk: pid=4134 eid=987 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=44, chunk: pid=4135 eid=864 len=9 sect=c2K text='Shakedown' img=None position_id map extra at idx=45, chunk: pid=4135 eid=989 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=45, chunk: pid=4144 eid=999 len=16 sect=c2K text='Five years later' img=None position_id map extra at idx=46, chunk: pid=4136 eid=991 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=46, chunk: pid=4160 eid=1000 len=340 sect=c2K text='Pam huffed across the Michigan Avenue Bridge, working hard to keep step with her towering new boss. She was thirty-one now, far from a rookie, in an enviable place for a Chicago journalist to find herself, striding with her editor through the shadows of her hometown’s famous architecture, the river and its riverboats bobbing beneath them.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=47, chunk: pid=4137 eid=993 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=47, chunk: pid=4500 eid=1001 len=406 sect=c2K text='Pam grew up about twenty minutes away in an affluent suburb on Chicago’s South Side. Her first dream was figure skating, and as a kid she spent hours training, before school and after, with plans on making the Olympics. She was obsessed with perfection—each jump, each lift—and tireless. Her coach, a former Olympian named Peter Dunfield, once called her part of “the next generation” of US figure skaters.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=48, chunk: pid=4138 eid=864 len=9 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=48, chunk: pid=4906 eid=1002 len=647 sect=c2K text='She enrolled at UC Berkeley for college and kept training, including long trips home to work with Dunfield. But her constant work led to constant wear on her ankles, which eventually gave out. So after college, Pam returned to Chicago and found a job as a social worker. It took less than a month to discover that powerful lawyers and adoption agencies were colluding to sell babies to desperate couples at exorbitant prices. She had tried to stop it but was rebuffed, and that lit in her a desire that she couldn’t turn off to expose wrongdoing—not unlike her devotion to skating, only with a little more social utility and practical application.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=49, chunk: pid=4147 eid=999 len=16 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=49, chunk: pid=5553 eid=1003 len=19 sect=c2K text='She wanted justice.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=50, chunk: pid=4163 eid=1000 len=340 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=50, chunk: pid=5572 eid=1004 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=e30 position_id map extra at idx=51, chunk: pid=4503 eid=1001 len=406 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=51, chunk: pid=5573 eid=1007 len=91 sect=c2K text='A figure skater turned social worker, Pam Zekman turned to journalism to expose corruption.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=52, chunk: pid=4909 eid=1002 len=647 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=52, chunk: pid=5664 eid=1010 len=509 sect=c2K text='And she figured that as a journalist, it would be her job to seek it out. She applied for a position at the City News Bureau, a wire service that shipped stories to papers around the state. The Bureau wouldn’t typically consider hiring a young female reporter with no experience. But its reporters were all getting drafted and sent to Vietnam, so they hired Pam to cover Chicago’s criminal courthouse, where, alongside veterans of the big papers, she chronicled the trials of mobsters and corrupt politicians.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=53, chunk: pid=5556 eid=994 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=53, chunk: pid=6173 eid=1012 len=476 sect=c2K text='There were three big papers in town: the liberal and punchy Sun-Times; its a.m. rival, the stuffier Tribune; and the afternoon paper, the Daily News. Pam had grown up with the Sun-Times. She knew from the bylines that female journalists there were generally relegated to testing recipes and suggesting perennials. Same was true at the Trib, but she applied for a reporting job there anyway and talked her way into a job as a correspondent in journalistic Siberia: the suburbs.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=54, chunk: pid=5557 eid=996 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=54, chunk: pid=6649 eid=1013 len=428 sect=c2K text='That’s when she caught her first break. Someone called her bureau with a tip: garbage crews were collecting trash for businesses that didn’t pay for pickup in exchange for cash bribes. She posed as the daughter of a dry cleaner, found a garbage crew, and asked if they would pick up her family business’s trash too. The garbage man said sure—for a fee. “How much do you guys charge?” Not long after that, Pam’s byline was on A1.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=55, chunk: pid=5558 eid=1003 len=19 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=55, chunk: pid=7077 eid=1014 len=525 sect=c2K text='Undercover reporting has been a staple of journalism since at least the middle of the nineteenth century, when Northern journalists masqueraded as Southern slave owners to send ciphered dispatches back north from slave auctions. Later in the century, Nellie Bly made herself a celebrity with undercover exposés of “lunatic asylums” and other institutions of disrepute. Later journalists did the same, posing as prison guards, child traffickers, and welfare officers, and winning Pulitzers and literary fame for their efforts.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=56, chunk: pid=5577 eid=1004 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=56, chunk: pid=7602 eid=1015 len=343 sect=c2K text='By Pam’s day, the industry’s romance with feints was waning, replaced by an obsession with leaks and anonymous sources. There existed a new breed of finger-wagging journalism moralist—he usually worked at an East Coast newspaper or university—who dismissed undercover work as unethical, an affront to the practice, a corrupting form of deceit.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=57, chunk: pid=5578 eid=1007 len=91 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=57, chunk: pid=7945 eid=1016 len=488 sect=c2K text='In Chicago, though, political corruption was so pervasive, so institutionalized, that sources could be more difficult to scare up, especially when the mob was involved. So undercover reporting lived on. Around that time, a ferocious young Tribune reporter, Bill Jones, began hearing about corrupt private ambulance companies. He trained as an ambulance attendant, got hired, witnessed the corruption, and chronicled it in a six-part series with headlines like “Sadism Rides an Ambulance.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=58, chunk: pid=5669 eid=1010 len=509 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=58, chunk: pid=8433 eid=1017 len=649 sect=c2K text='Jones won the Trib a Pulitzer, and nothing loosens a publisher’s grip on a paper’s purse strings like a Pulitzer. So the Trib gifted Jones his own task force, with enough budget to pursue sexy, complicated undercover stories that would keep the newsroom champagne flowing. Having read Pam’s garbage crew scoop, Jones drafted her to help. He also partnered with a local watchdog group, where a crafty investigator named Bill Recktenwald, a.k.a. Reck, was making a name for himself as an undercover savant. Before long, Jones and Reck were training Pam for her first true undercover assignment—as an aide in some of the city’s shoddiest nursing homes.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=59, chunk: pid=6178 eid=1012 len=476 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=59, chunk: pid=9082 eid=1018 len=383 sect=c2K text='Pam and Reck held their noses and tongues as they watched aides berate patients, deny them food, and dump their medicine down the drain. Pam’s stomach ached; her heart raced. Whenever she could, she pulled out a small camera and snapped photos of records and residents, or jotted notes on scrap paper and stuffed them into her pockets. “Pockets are very important,” Pam liked to say.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=60, chunk: pid=6654 eid=1013 len=428 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=60, chunk: pid=9465 eid=1019 len=350 sect=c2K text='The eight-part nursing home exposé, published in the Chicago Tribune in 1971, led to a rash of lawsuits and reforms. After that, the task force posed as election workers to uncover voter fraud within the infamous Chicago political machine, winning a Pulitzer. Then they posed as hospital workers to expose neglect at local hospitals, winning another.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=61, chunk: pid=7082 eid=1014 len=525 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=61, chunk: pid=9815 eid=1020 len=195 sect=c2K text='But there was a story they knew they were missing. With every exposé the task force published, tips from angry citizens poured in: Hello, I’m a small businessman, and the city is shaking me down.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=62, chunk: pid=7607 eid=1015 len=343 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=62, chunk: pid=10010 eid=1021 len=593 sect=c2K text='Like dead voters and unbeatable ward bosses, street-level shakedowns were embroidered into the fabric of Chicago life. It was like that in the late 1800s, when the English newspaperman W. T. Stead visited Chicago and sent word that “the whole system from top to bottom has been constructed on the principle that it is a good thing to lead aldermen and officials into temptation on every possible occasion.” It certainly had been that way throughout the reign of Mayor Richard J. Daley, who, for two decades, had presided over one of the nation’s most successful and corrupt political machines.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=63, chunk: pid=7950 eid=1016 len=488 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=63, chunk: pid=10603 eid=1022 len=479 sect=c2K text='The Chicago building code was eight hundred pages and enforced, at least theoretically, by hundreds of inspectors who ate up millions of taxpayer dollars in salaries. “We’re making Chicago a utopia,” the city’s building commissioner said back then. But according to small business owners, those inspectors—plus trash collectors, cops, and anyone else who had a hand in regulating small businesses—rarely did their jobs without angling for a bribe. It was a utopia built on graft.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=64, chunk: pid=8438 eid=1017 len=649 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=64, chunk: pid=11082 eid=1023 len=434 sect=c2K text='Pam longed to expose this system once and for all. But business owners refused to go on the record about it, fearing reprisal from Daley’s machine. And the inspectors wisely kept the shakedowns so small—ten dollars here, fifty there—that the business owners never bucked the system. The arrangement also helped avoid any actual inspections. “Everybody benefited at the expense of the taxpayer,” as one Chicago newspaper editor put it.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=65, chunk: pid=9087 eid=1018 len=383 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=65, chunk: pid=11516 eid=1024 len=379 sect=c2K text='Pam knew that definitively chronicling those shakedowns would be the ultimate Chicago scoop. But the way she saw it, there was only one way to do it, and no matter how many times she asked, the Trib’s management said no. So she tucked her shakedown files—including notes with anonymous business owners and memos sent to management proposing the ruse—in a folder labeled “Tavern.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=66, chunk: pid=9470 eid=1019 len=350 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=66, chunk: pid=11895 eid=1025 len=107 sect=c2K text='And in 1975, when she finally got an offer to work for her beloved Sun-Times, she took her folder with her.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=67, chunk: pid=9820 eid=1020 len=195 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=67, chunk: pid=12002 eid=1026 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=e3P position_id map extra at idx=68, chunk: pid=10015 eid=1021 len=593 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=68, chunk: pid=12003 eid=1029 len=23 sect=c2K text='“Any projects in mind?”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=69, chunk: pid=10608 eid=1022 len=479 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=69, chunk: pid=12026 eid=1030 len=688 sect=c2K text='Now Pam was on the bridge, the wind mussing her strawberry hair. The man at her side was the Sun-Times’s editor, James Hoge. He was a decade older than Pam, with an Ivy League pedigree, tailored suit, and hair that was somehow both effortless and meticulous. Hoge’s papers would go on to win seven Pulitzers, and he would eventually serve on the Pulitzer board. On the bridge, though, all he wanted was to hear a decent story idea. He had poached Pam from the Tribune as part of a hiring spree designed to make Chicago take the Sun-Times more seriously. He and Pam had attended a seminar together earlier in the day, and they were walking back to the office when Hoge asked what was next.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=70, chunk: pid=11087 eid=1023 len=434 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=70, chunk: pid=12714 eid=1031 len=452 sect=c2K text='“There are a lot of things we could try,” Pam said, and she began the painful journalistic ritual of flinging every story idea she had in her editor’s direction. The ideas were too small, though, not the kind of investigations of corrupt political systems that won the Big One—not in the decade of leaks and Deep Throat, of the Pentagon Papers and Watergate. Hoge swatted every idea into the river with his silence. The bridge shook beneath Pam’s feet.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=71, chunk: pid=11521 eid=1024 len=379 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=71, chunk: pid=13166 eid=1032 len=177 sect=c2K text='“There’s something else I’d rather talk about—a project for maybe someday,” Pam said then. “It’s always been kind of a fantasy of mine. At least that’s what the Trib called it.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=72, chunk: pid=11900 eid=1025 len=107 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=72, chunk: pid=13343 eid=1033 len=25 sect=c2K text='“What is it?” Hoge asked.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=73, chunk: pid=12007 eid=1026 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=73, chunk: pid=13368 eid=1034 len=49 sect=c2K text='“A tavern,” she answered. “I’d like to open one.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=74, chunk: pid=12008 eid=1029 len=23 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=74, chunk: pid=13417 eid=1035 len=457 sect=c2K text='Hoge didn’t say anything, but the idea struck at his imagination—ambitious, flashy, and existing at the intersection between Daley’s machine and the citizenry. It was exactly the kind of story Hoge was hoping Pam would produce. But Hoge knew it would carry big risks and bigger costs, and he worried about getting Pam’s hopes up. He let her talk. Pam, sensing an opening, rattled off all the corruption they could chronicle if they owned and operated a bar.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=75, chunk: pid=12031 eid=1030 len=688 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=75, chunk: pid=13874 eid=1036 len=76 sect=c2K text='“We could photograph it,” she said. “Get it down on paper once and for all.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=76, chunk: pid=12719 eid=1031 len=452 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=76, chunk: pid=13950 eid=1037 len=477 sect=c2K text='They kept walking, eventually reaching the Sun-Times headquarters overlooking the river. Hoge prodded the same obstacles—journalistic, logistical, ethical—that had scared off the Tribune: the cost, the legal liability, the possibility that inspectors would blame the Sun-Times for offering bribes. Pam had heard this speech before, and she knew how it ended, with her “Tavern” folder safely tucked away in a cabinet. But then Hoge spoke. “We’d have to go at it very carefully.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=77, chunk: pid=13171 eid=1032 len=177 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=77, chunk: pid=14427 eid=991 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=78, chunk: pid=13348 eid=1033 len=25 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=78, chunk: pid=14428 eid=993 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=79, chunk: pid=13373 eid=1034 len=49 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=79, chunk: pid=14429 eid=994 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=80, chunk: pid=13422 eid=1035 len=457 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=80, chunk: pid=14430 eid=996 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=81, chunk: pid=13879 eid=1036 len=76 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=81, chunk: pid=14431 eid=997 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=82, chunk: pid=13955 eid=1037 len=476 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=82, chunk: pid=14432 eid=1040 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=83, chunk: pid=14431 eid=1037+476 len=1 sect=c2K text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=83, chunk: pid=14433 eid=1042 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=84, chunk: pid=14432 eid=1050 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=84, chunk: pid=14434 eid=865 len=18 sect=c4A text='The Tavern Project' img=None position_id map extra at idx=85, chunk: pid=14433 eid=1040 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=85, chunk: pid=14452 eid=1052 len=269 sect=c4A text='Only the top editors would know what Pam was up to. Not even Marshall Field, the retail magnate who owned the paper, was told exactly why his budget was going to balloon in 1977, the year Hoge finally greenlit the project. Field just knew it was for a worthwhile story.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=86, chunk: pid=14434 eid=1042 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=86, chunk: pid=14721 eid=1054 len=525 sect=c4A text='But reporters snoop and reporters talk, especially in Chicago, where journalists from the two morning rivals shared tables—even pitchers—at the nearby Billy Goat Tavern. Pam’s old colleagues at the Trib were always sniffing around to see what she would investigate next, and they knew how desperately she wanted to open a bar. And that was to say nothing of her rivals inside her own newsroom. Field, it so happened, owned and published both the morning Sun-Times and the evening Daily News. The two papers shared a newsroom.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=87, chunk: pid=14435 eid=1044 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=87, chunk: pid=15246 eid=1055 len=525 sect=c4A text='Pam and Hoge insisted on treating the project like a clandestine intelligence mission. Photographers would be instructed to lock their negatives in a cabinet and collect their wet reject prints from the darkroom trash can so those snoopy Daily News shooters couldn’t fish them from the trash. And when Pam pulled old clips from the “morgue,” the papers’ shared library, she made sure not to leave evidence of her request. Sometimes she even left fake clip requests in her name, hoping to throw a snooping rival off the scent.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=88, chunk: pid=14436 eid=1046 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=88, chunk: pid=15771 eid=1056 len=417 sect=c4A text='Even outside the newsroom, almost no one could know. Pam told her husband, Rick, a fellow journalist whom Pam met and fell in love with as a cub reporter at the Trib; if she didn’t tell him, she figured, he’d sniff it out in a week. But she told almost no one else—not her family and not her closest friends, all of whom had become accustomed to wondering where Pam went every day and being shut down when they asked.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=89, chunk: pid=14437 eid=865 len=18 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=89, chunk: pid=16188 eid=1057 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=e4R position_id map extra at idx=90, chunk: pid=14455 eid=1052 len=269 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=90, chunk: pid=16189 eid=1059 len=413 sect=c4A text='There was one more person outside the newsroom Pam could tell. Though it was a golden age of undercover reporting, there were still things a Chicago newsroom couldn’t afford to do on its own. So even the best I-teams called in partners—a local TV station, perhaps, or a nonprofit organization that could share in the cost and the labor. When it came time to go tavern shopping, Pam knew exactly who to call: Reck.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=91, chunk: pid=14724 eid=1054 len=525 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=91, chunk: pid=16602 eid=1060 len=814 sect=c4A text='He was tall with broad shoulders, a thick mop of brown hair, and thin, wire-rimmed glasses. Like Pam, Reck was a Chicago native; unlike Pam, he had finished high school without much direction, loading boxcars one week and fitting businessmen for loafers the next. But through a friend, Reck had fallen into a career as an investigator, including a job working undercover for the State of Illinois. The state needed to make sure the guys administering the drivers’ tests weren’t soliciting bribes from failing drivers. So Reck showed up at DMVs all across the state, armed with a fake state ID for a man named Ray Patterson. He rolled through stop signs, straddled lane lines, and generally drove as horribly as possible without blowing his cover or killing a pedestrian. The instructors, it turned out, were clean.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=92, chunk: pid=15249 eid=1055 len=525 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=92, chunk: pid=17416 eid=1061 len=554 sect=c4A text='Reck eventually found his way to a civic reform group called the Better Government Association (BGA). Staffed by experienced investigators, the BGA could expose wrongdoing anywhere it turned its nose. But it didn’t have a way to tell Chicagoans about its findings. So it partnered with local TV stations and newspapers, which broadcast the findings far and wide. In his first several years at the BGA, Reck had gone undercover as a voting precinct captain, an ambulance attendant, and a nurse’s aide, each time partnering up with a local reporter or two.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=93, chunk: pid=15774 eid=1056 len=417 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=93, chunk: pid=17970 eid=1062 len=288 sect=c4A text='Pam and Reck had met as undercover aides on the nursing home story, and over the years, they’d dreamed together about going undercover to reveal the pay-to-play culture of Chicago. But they both knew there was only one way to truly show it. They figured no newspaper would ever go for it.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=94, chunk: pid=16191 eid=1047 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=94, chunk: pid=18258 eid=1063 len=33 sect=c4A text='Then, in 1977, Reck’s phone rang.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=95, chunk: pid=16192 eid=1049 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=95, chunk: pid=18291 eid=1064 len=31 sect=c4A text='“Reck, we’ve got it,” Pam said.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=96, chunk: pid=16193 eid=1057 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=96, chunk: pid=18322 eid=1065 len=23 sect=c4A text='“Got what?” Reck asked.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=97, chunk: pid=16194 eid=1059 len=413 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=97, chunk: pid=18345 eid=1066 len=13 sect=c4A text='“The tavern.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=98, chunk: pid=16607 eid=1060 len=814 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=98, chunk: pid=18358 eid=1067 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=e52 position_id map extra at idx=99, chunk: pid=17421 eid=1061 len=554 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=99, chunk: pid=18359 eid=1069 len=291 sect=c4A text='The station wagon rumbled to life. Pam and Reck thawed their hands against the heater vents and smoothed out the wrinkles in their cover story. They would be playing a happily married couple ready to dip their toes into the sticky world of bar ownership. They just had to find the right bar.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=100, chunk: pid=17975 eid=1062 len=288 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=100, chunk: pid=18650 eid=1070 len=256 sect=c4A text='Reck would be assuming the role of Mr. Ray Patterson, using the old state ID he’d secured. He typically kept his face clean-shaven, but as Ray Patterson, he would wear a bushy mustache and muttonchops that spread across his face like invasive monkey grass.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=101, chunk: pid=18263 eid=1063 len=33 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=101, chunk: pid=18906 eid=1071 len=326 sect=c4A text='Pam would introduce herself as Ray’s wife, Mrs. Patterson. She considered wearing a blonde wig to obscure the waves of red hair that framed her chiseled face. But that face wasn’t yet well known on the streets, not like it was in city hall or at the courthouse, so she decided that dark glasses and a head scarf would suffice.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=102, chunk: pid=18296 eid=1064 len=31 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=102, chunk: pid=19232 eid=1072 len=328 sect=c4A text='Pam studied newspaper classified listings, circling any taverns for sale. The bar needed to be a short drive or walk from the Sun-Times offices so a photographer could get there on a moment’s notice. It needed to be in a ward susceptible to corruption, which, thankfully, included most of them. Above all, it needed to be cheap.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=103, chunk: pid=18327 eid=1065 len=23 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=103, chunk: pid=19560 eid=1073 len=518 sect=c4A text='The first place they stopped, a working-class bar in the West Loop, met most of their conditions. Pam nervously shook the owner’s hand; five years into her career as an undercover muckraker, her heart still thumped when she lied. But her ambitions that day were modest. She just wanted to get a look at the place and confirm the asking price of $14,000. That’s right, the owner said, fourteen grand. He seemed so eager to sell, and not at all skeptical of the tavern-shopping Pattersons. Pam decided to press a little.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=104, chunk: pid=18350 eid=1066 len=13 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=104, chunk: pid=20078 eid=1074 len=221 sect=c4A text='“So how do we get a liquor license?” she asked. She expected the owner to walk them through the official process—the paperwork, the long waits at city hall, the scrutiny from Chicago’s finest. She got something different.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=105, chunk: pid=18363 eid=1067 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=105, chunk: pid=20299 eid=1075 len=178 sect=c4A text='“As long as you don’t have a police record, they can’t stop you,” the owner said. “But they can stretch it out a long time, so you have to give them something to get it through.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=106, chunk: pid=18364 eid=1069 len=291 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=106, chunk: pid=20477 eid=1076 len=543 sect=c4A text='With Reck behind the wheel of his station wagon, they rumbled around the Loop like this for months, as if they were caught in a maze built from Schlitz coasters. At every stop, the secrets Pam had spent years chasing just spilled right onto the bar. Find the right pinball machine operator and he’ll kick you cash under the table, one bar owner confessed. Find the right tax accountant and he’ll teach you to skim, another said. Find the right inspector and—well, they’re all your friends, as long as you keep your pockets full of loose bills.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=107, chunk: pid=18655 eid=1070 len=256 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=107, chunk: pid=21020 eid=1077 len=542 sect=c4A text='After each meeting, Pam and Reck slipped back into the station wagon, cranked the heater, and marveled at the tavern owners’ frankness. Then Pam pulled out her reporter’s notebook and peppered Reck with questions about details she might have missed: How many buttons were open on the man’s shirt? What beers did they have? Were the parking meters broken out front? But none was quite right for them. They were usually too far from the newsroom, too expensive, or both. So Pam scribbled, Reck fired up the station wagon, and they kept driving.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=108, chunk: pid=18911 eid=1071 len=326 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=108, chunk: pid=21562 eid=1044 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=109, chunk: pid=19237 eid=1072 len=328 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=109, chunk: pid=21563 eid=1046 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=110, chunk: pid=19565 eid=1073 len=518 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=110, chunk: pid=21564 eid=1047 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=111, chunk: pid=20083 eid=1074 len=221 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=111, chunk: pid=21565 eid=1049 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=112, chunk: pid=20304 eid=1075 len=178 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=112, chunk: pid=21566 eid=1050 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=113, chunk: pid=20482 eid=1076 len=543 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=113, chunk: pid=21567 eid=1080 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=114, chunk: pid=21025 eid=1077 len=541 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=114, chunk: pid=21568 eid=1082 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=115, chunk: pid=21566 eid=1077+541 len=1 sect=c4A text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=115, chunk: pid=21569 eid=866 len=14 sect=c5N text='The Accountant' img=None position_id map extra at idx=116, chunk: pid=21567 eid=1096 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=116, chunk: pid=21583 eid=1098 len=262 sect=c5N text='They were only in the waiting area, but already this place seemed too by the book to be useful: the clack-clack-ching of typewriters, the violent ringing of rotary phones, the secretaries buzzing about. And paperwork: corruption’s worst enemy. It was everywhere.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=117, chunk: pid=21568 eid=1080 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=117, chunk: pid=21845 eid=1099 len=662 sect=c5N text='Still, Pam and Reck waited. It was spring now, March, almost three months into their search for a tavern, and few prospects remained. There was a dive called Skip’s Friendly Tavern that held promise, but the advertisement referred them here, to the office of an accountant and business broker a few miles west of Wrigley Field. Hard to imagine getting a bar for cheap with a broker playing middleman. Hard to imagine an accountant spilling secrets like the tavern owners did. But Skip’s had promise, and the accountant held the keys to a deal. So here they were. They sat close, chatting quietly, and soon enough they were greeted by the man they’d come to meet.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=118, chunk: pid=21569 eid=1082 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=118, chunk: pid=22507 eid=1100 len=239 sect=c5N text='His name was Philip Barasch. He was shaped like a bowling ball, and he rolled through the office like one. “I’m busy,” Barasch said, falling into his office chair. “I work twelve hours a day, seven days a week .\xa0.\xa0. But I get lots of sex.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=119, chunk: pid=21570 eid=1084 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=119, chunk: pid=22746 eid=1101 len=582 sect=c5N text='Maybe Barasch wasn’t so by the book after all. That was good. But it meant Pam would have to endure more of the casual sexual harassment that defined her days as a female reporter (female anything) in the 1970s (19-anythings). In the newsroom, the cop shop, and anywhere else where men knew her as a professional muckraker, it was easier for Pam to respond directly to the kind of lewdness that tailed her through her day. A simple “cut it out” usually did the trick. But going undercover often meant just taking it. Speaking up, she feared, could kill a fruitful crop of reportage.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=120, chunk: pid=21571 eid=1086 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=120, chunk: pid=23328 eid=1102 len=203 sect=c5N text='Barasch, sweaty and leering, came across a file folder that had been misplaced by one of his secretaries. “You owe me a sex affair!” he shouted at the woman. He was in the mood now, and he turned to Pam.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=121, chunk: pid=21572 eid=866 len=14 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=121, chunk: pid=23531 eid=1103 len=28 sect=c5N text='“How long you been married?”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=122, chunk: pid=21586 eid=1098 len=262 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=122, chunk: pid=23559 eid=1104 len=23 sect=c5N text='“Five years,” she said.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=123, chunk: pid=21848 eid=1099 len=662 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=123, chunk: pid=23582 eid=1105 len=11 sect=c5N text='“Any kids?”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=124, chunk: pid=22510 eid=1100 len=239 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=124, chunk: pid=23593 eid=1106 len=10 sect=c5N text='“Not yet.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=125, chunk: pid=22749 eid=1101 len=582 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=125, chunk: pid=23603 eid=1107 len=178 sect=c5N text='Now he turned to Reck. “Hey, whatsamatter, Ray, you doin’ it wrong? You ever tried it upside down? Hey, Ray, give me the little lady for a while, and I’ll show you how to do it.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=126, chunk: pid=23331 eid=1093 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=126, chunk: pid=23781 eid=1108 len=431 sect=c5N text='Pam and Reck had become close over the years, something like brother and sister, so it wasn’t hard to mimic the subtle physical interactions of a loving, well-seasoned couple: a brief handhold, a gentle touch on the shoulder, a warm and knowing glance. Reck intuitively reached an arm around Pam’s shoulder and pulled her close; Pam, used to Reck’s friendly, protective embraces, leaned into it. “We’re doing just fine,” Reck said.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=127, chunk: pid=23332 eid=1095 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=127, chunk: pid=24212 eid=1109 len=247 sect=c5N text='They steered Barasch back toward the business of buying a bar, expecting a perfunctory walk-through of the process. Instead, he offered to personally escort them into the weeds of Chicago corruption. “You’ve come to the right place,” Barasch said.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=128, chunk: pid=23333 eid=1102 len=203 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=128, chunk: pid=24459 eid=1110 len=380 sect=c5N text='He told them how they would skim on their taxes. How they would keep two sets of books—one with artificially deflated revenues for the IRS and one with the real numbers for themselves. “Everybody knocks it down,” he said. He even handed them a card for every bar or restaurant he was trying to sell for a client, with the details of each tax-skimming scam spelled out on each one.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=129, chunk: pid=23536 eid=1103 len=28 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=129, chunk: pid=24839 eid=1111 len=486 sect=c5N text='It was a stunning admission. But Pam and Reck wanted more, especially about the way inspectors shook down small businesses. Luckily, Barasch made it clear that he could be helpful in that arena too. For a small fee, he would work directly with inspectors and politically connected contractors to make sure whatever bar they bought could open on time. He was part Yoda, part consigliere, and with every jiggle of his jowls, Pam knew he would play an important role in their tavern story.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=130, chunk: pid=23564 eid=1104 len=23 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=130, chunk: pid=25325 eid=1112 len=106 sect=c5N text='“Do you mind if I take notes?” she asked Barasch, trying to look puzzled as she studied the bars for sale.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=131, chunk: pid=23587 eid=1105 len=11 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=131, chunk: pid=25431 eid=1113 len=67 sect=c5N text='“That’s my little wife,” Reck said. “She’d make a great secretary.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=132, chunk: pid=23598 eid=1106 len=10 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=132, chunk: pid=25498 eid=1114 len=28 sect=c5N text='Barasch handed her a pencil.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=133, chunk: pid=23608 eid=1107 len=178 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=133, chunk: pid=25526 eid=1115 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=e6E position_id map extra at idx=134, chunk: pid=23786 eid=1108 len=431 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=134, chunk: pid=25527 eid=1117 len=380 sect=c5N text='Big-project reporters like Pam were given plenty of time and space to operate—the kind of time and space that incubated major awards. But the longer they took, the less likely Pam would publish that calendar year, meaning the paper would have nothing to submit for the Pulitzers come prize season. Sooner than later, she knew, the paper’s brass would want to see her byline on A1.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=135, chunk: pid=24217 eid=1109 len=247 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=135, chunk: pid=25907 eid=1118 len=212 sect=c5N text='It was late spring now, almost six months into their shopping excursion, and they were running out of prospects. Then, one day in May, she and Reck pulled up to a small tavern not far from the Sun-Times newsroom.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=136, chunk: pid=24464 eid=1110 len=380 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=136, chunk: pid=26119 eid=1119 len=535 sect=c5N text='It was called the Firehouse. The facade was covered in pigeon shit. It was small, just one narrow room anchored by a long mahogany front bar and a towering back bar. Reck noticed that back bar right away. It was built from dark engraved wood, and it had a curved mirror that made the shelves of liquor appear to stretch back forever. More important, Reck noticed, was the space behind it: a four-foot-wide gap between the bar and the wall. It would make a great place to steal away to take notes or make a harried call to the newsroom.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=137, chunk: pid=24844 eid=1111 len=486 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=137, chunk: pid=26654 eid=1120 len=461 sect=c5N text='Pam liked the Firehouse too. It was in an eclectic neighborhood tucked between the Magnificent Mile shopping district and Cabrini-Green, the city’s infamous public housing project. The bar’s neighbors included antiques galleries, cheap apartment complexes, battered retail storefronts, and a brothel. It was, Pam knew, in a ward where businesses were basically forced to buy insurance from a powerful local politician. Best of all, the price was right: $18,000.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=138, chunk: pid=25330 eid=1112 len=106 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=138, chunk: pid=27115 eid=1121 len=115 sect=c5N text='Back at the newsroom, Pam announced that she’d narrowed her search to a couple of finalists, led by the Firehouse.x' img=None position_id map extra at idx=139, chunk: pid=25436 eid=1113 len=67 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=139, chunk: pid=27230 eid=1122 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=e6P position_id map extra at idx=140, chunk: pid=25503 eid=1114 len=28 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=140, chunk: pid=27231 eid=1125 len=76 sect=c5N text='The defunct Firehouse tavern was cheap, close by, and full of hiding places.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=141, chunk: pid=25531 eid=1115 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=141, chunk: pid=27307 eid=1126 len=477 sect=c5N text='The job of vetting the bar fell to the paper’s managing editor, Stuart Loory, whose previous journalistic escapades included serving as Moscow bureau chief for the New York Herald Tribune and covering the Nixon White House. He had been lured to Chicago by Hoge the same year as Pam to help the Sun-Times compete with the Trib. Now he had the important role of tavern approver. After drinking a beer one afternoon at the Firehouse, he called Pam at the newsroom with his report.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=142, chunk: pid=25532 eid=1117 len=380 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=142, chunk: pid=27784 eid=1127 len=39 sect=c5N text='“It’s seedy,” he said. “But I like it.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=143, chunk: pid=25912 eid=1118 len=212 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=143, chunk: pid=27823 eid=1128 len=404 sect=c5N text='Like any new bar owners, Pam and Reck wanted to give the place a fresh start, including a new name. So one day, Reck, Pam, and her editors gathered in the newsroom to brainstorm. Reck floated Le Tappe Lloyd, an homage to the paper’s tabloid-size paper. Someone else suggested the Scarlet Lady. “That makes it sound like a whorehouse,” Reck pointed out, “and we already have one of those down the street.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=144, chunk: pid=26124 eid=1119 len=535 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=144, chunk: pid=28227 eid=1129 len=178 sect=c5N text='Finally, a flash of linguistic inspiration hit Reck. He scurried to the nearest dictionary and flipped to mirage. “Something that appears real or possible but in fact is not so.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=145, chunk: pid=26659 eid=1120 len=461 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=145, chunk: pid=28405 eid=1130 len=24 sect=c5N text='“The Mirage,” Reck said.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=146, chunk: pid=27120 eid=1121 len=115 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=146, chunk: pid=28429 eid=1131 len=23 sect=c5N text='“The Mirage,” Pam said.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=147, chunk: pid=27235 eid=1122 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=147, chunk: pid=28452 eid=1132 len=24 sect=c5N text='Their tavern had a name.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=148, chunk: pid=27236 eid=1125 len=76 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=148, chunk: pid=28476 eid=1133 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=e72 position_id map extra at idx=149, chunk: pid=27312 eid=1126 len=477 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=149, chunk: pid=28477 eid=1135 len=389 sect=c5N text='A newspaper can’t just buy a bar—not if it doesn’t want to get caught by the very agencies it’s trying to expose. There’s too much paperwork that could lead the inspectors back to the paper. So late that spring, Reck dug through the applications of people who were hoping to work for the BGA. Eventually, he came across the perfect candidate: a strapping former bartender named Jeff Allen.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=150, chunk: pid=27789 eid=1127 len=39 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=150, chunk: pid=28866 eid=1136 len=315 sect=c5N text='They filled Allen in on their plan, formed a front company in his name, and finalized the purchase of the Firehouse. Then they closed it for renovations. That would give them time to secure the licenses they needed to open and hopefully chronicle a few shakedowns. Mostly, it gave them time to actually renovate it.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=151, chunk: pid=27828 eid=1128 len=404 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=151, chunk: pid=29181 eid=1137 len=594 sect=c5N text='Summer came. Sun poured in through the front windows as they excavated the bar’s unseemly past. Every door they opened and corner they turned revealed a new smell, another hole, an undisclosed hazard baking in the heat of July. They discovered faulty, exposed wiring; broken toilets; rotting wood; and corroded pipes spewing fetid water. They found maggots, cockroaches, a large stash of rotten turkey gizzards, and a small stash of spoiled weed. They spent hours sifting through it all, cleaning what needed cleaning but leaving in place a few hazards that might test the inspectors’ scruples.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=152, chunk: pid=28232 eid=1129 len=178 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=152, chunk: pid=29775 eid=1138 len=390 sect=c5N text='As she cleaned, Pam’s mind kept returning to one element of the project she knew she needed to nail down: the “art.” Every prizeworthy project needed dramatic and compelling photographs. But undercover projects offered particular challenges, which was why Pam had been forced to sneak her own grainy photos of nursing homes. For weeks now Pam had been asking herself: How do we get the art?' img=None position_id map extra at idx=153, chunk: pid=28410 eid=1130 len=24 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=153, chunk: pid=30165 eid=1139 len=79 sect=c5N text='One warm day in July, a photographer showed up, hoping to answer that question.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=154, chunk: pid=28434 eid=1131 len=23 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=154, chunk: pid=30244 eid=1140 len=460 sect=c5N text='His name was Jim Frost, and he’d worked at the paper for all of two months. In fact, that was his chief qualification for the job: no one in city hall or the newsroom knew who he was. He’d been sitting in the photographers’ “ready room,” where they waited to develop film or be dispatched to an assignment, when the red phone on the wall rang. “The editors want to see you,” someone said. The next thing he knew, he was driving to the Mirage, sworn to secrecy.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=155, chunk: pid=28457 eid=1132 len=24 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=155, chunk: pid=30704 eid=1141 len=289 sect=c5N text='Frost arrived dressed in coveralls, his bulky Nikon tucked into a tool kit, trying his best to look like a handyman. Once inside, he snapped away at shoddy construction that should catch the eye of honest inspectors. But the real question was how he would capture the inspectors in action.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=156, chunk: pid=28481 eid=1133 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=156, chunk: pid=30993 eid=1142 len=387 sect=c5N text='The answer, Pam hoped, lay inside a loft perched above the bathrooms. It was about the size of a walk-in closet and littered with trash, and it was accessible only by a ladder in a small food-prep area at the back of the bar. Pam suspected that the photographer might be able to climb inside and shoot down into the bar through a small hole in the wall. Frost climbed up to check it out.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=157, chunk: pid=28482 eid=1135 len=389 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=157, chunk: pid=31380 eid=1143 len=505 sect=c5N text='What he saw intrigued him. I can make this work, he thought, studying the space. Over the next week, he would buy a vent grate at the hardware store, take it home, and pummel it with a hammer, trying to make it look as well worn as the rest of the Mirage. He would bend the louvers so his lens could see through them. Finally, he would affix the vent to the wall just so and set his camera up just behind it on a tripod, knowing he would need to stay perfectly still and quiet to get the shots Pam wanted.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=158, chunk: pid=28871 eid=1136 len=315 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=158, chunk: pid=31885 eid=1144 len=130 sect=c5N text='He would do all that and more, but as he climbed down the ladder, all he knew was what he told Pam. It was all she needed to hear.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=159, chunk: pid=29186 eid=1137 len=594 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=159, chunk: pid=32015 eid=1145 len=40 sect=c5N text='“We can shoot through that,” Frost said.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=160, chunk: pid=29780 eid=1138 len=390 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=160, chunk: pid=32055 eid=1084 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=161, chunk: pid=30170 eid=1139 len=79 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=161, chunk: pid=32056 eid=1086 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=162, chunk: pid=30249 eid=1087 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=162, chunk: pid=32057 eid=1087 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=163, chunk: pid=30250 eid=1090 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=163, chunk: pid=32058 eid=1090 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=e7N position_id map extra at idx=164, chunk: pid=30251 eid=1140 len=460 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=164, chunk: pid=32059 eid=1093 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=165, chunk: pid=30711 eid=1141 len=289 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=165, chunk: pid=32060 eid=1095 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=166, chunk: pid=31000 eid=1142 len=387 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=166, chunk: pid=32061 eid=1096 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=167, chunk: pid=31387 eid=1143 len=505 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=167, chunk: pid=32062 eid=1150 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=168, chunk: pid=31892 eid=1144 len=130 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=168, chunk: pid=32063 eid=1152 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=169, chunk: pid=32022 eid=1145 len=39 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=169, chunk: pid=32064 eid=867 len=14 sect=c7Y text='The Inspectors' img=None position_id map extra at idx=170, chunk: pid=32061 eid=1145+39 len=1 sect=c5N text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=170, chunk: pid=32078 eid=1167 len=318 sect=c7Y text='Pam peered through the window of a deli, her stomach pulsing again. She was across the street from the Mirage, doing what so many small business owners do: waiting for the inspection. But unlike most small business owners, Pam wasn’t scared that the inspector would shake down her bar. She was afraid that he wouldn’t.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=171, chunk: pid=32062 eid=1165 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=171, chunk: pid=32396 eid=1168 len=369 sect=c7Y text='It hadn’t taken long for Pam and Reck to witness the tediousness of Chicago’s inspection system. Within days of applying for their liquor license, the tavern had become a popular destination for a rotating cast of inspectors, including a plumbing inspector, a fire inspector, and two building inspectors. They wandered in, pointed out various code violations, and left.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=172, chunk: pid=32063 eid=1150 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=172, chunk: pid=32765 eid=1169 len=461 sect=c7Y text='It was clear to Pam and Reck that these inspectors didn’t intend to actually do their jobs. But if they wanted bribes in exchange for their laziness, they weren’t dropping any hints. And hints wouldn’t do anyway. Pam was on strict orders from Hoge that the public officials had to clearly raise the idea of a payoff, not the other way around. Otherwise, it would be Chicago-style reporting, not Chicago-style graft, in the crosshairs of reformers and ethicists.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=173, chunk: pid=32064 eid=1152 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=173, chunk: pid=33226 eid=1170 len=615 sect=c7Y text='Pam assumed the inspectors were just feeling the bar out before looking for their payoff. After each inspection, she slipped behind the back bar to scribble notes about what she’d witnessed. (State law prohibits recording without permission.) They tried to get photos, too, but it was proving more challenging than expected. Some of the inspectors had arrived unannounced, making it impossible to get a photographer in place. And even when Pam and Reck managed to get a photographer into the loft, they learned that it, like an obstructed-view seat at Wrigley Field, offered a look only at certain seats in the bar.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=174, chunk: pid=32065 eid=1154 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=174, chunk: pid=33841 eid=1171 len=273 sect=c7Y text='They pressed on. They hired Barasch, the accountant, to manage the Mirage’s books, hoping to continue the lesson in tax skimming. When they told him about the inspectors, Barasch arranged an appointment with the fire inspector and told them to have envelopes of cash ready.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=175, chunk: pid=32066 eid=1156 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=175, chunk: pid=34114 eid=1172 len=415 sect=c7Y text='Sure enough, the fire inspector called back and made an appointment. That gave Frost time to squeeze himself into the loft and position his Nikon. After some trial and error, he had a breakthrough: if they flipped the barstools onto the top of almost the entire bar, as if they’d been cleaning the floors, Pam and Reck could then steer the inspector to the one spot where Frost’s lens could easily capture his face.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=176, chunk: pid=32067 eid=867 len=14 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=176, chunk: pid=34529 eid=1173 len=398 sect=c7Y text='They arrived early that morning and arranged the stools—and the envelope—just so. Pam slipped out and made her way to the deli down the street, worried that the fire inspector might recognize her from city hall, where Pam practically lived part-time, digging through records and cornering officials. Right around ten, she watched the inspector’s station wagon pull to a stop in front of the Mirage.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=177, chunk: pid=32081 eid=1167 len=318 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=177, chunk: pid=34927 eid=1174 len=123 sect=c7Y text='Inside the bar, Reck was as cool as ever, with his sleeves pushed up and his wide-collared shirt splayed open at the chest.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=178, chunk: pid=32399 eid=1168 len=369 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=178, chunk: pid=35050 eid=1175 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=e8E position_id map extra at idx=179, chunk: pid=32768 eid=1169 len=461 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=179, chunk: pid=35051 eid=1177 len=41 sect=c7Y text='Philip Barasch knew how to play the game.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=180, chunk: pid=33229 eid=1170 len=615 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=180, chunk: pid=35092 eid=1178 len=391 sect=c7Y text='He led the mustachioed inspector on a short, casual tour of the Mirage. The inspector did some poking around of his own, peeking beneath the taps as smoke spewed from the skinny cig dangling between his lips. But he didn’t step behind the back bar, where wires traced the walls like ivy. He didn’t step foot in the basement, where burlap hung from the ceiling and trash was piled waist high.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=181, chunk: pid=33844 eid=1162 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=181, chunk: pid=35483 eid=1179 len=144 sect=c7Y text='A proper inspection should take about an hour, Pam knew. But around eight minutes after the inspector had walked in, she watched him drive away.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=182, chunk: pid=33845 eid=1164 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=182, chunk: pid=35627 eid=1180 len=44 sect=c7Y text='She gave it a beat and then started jogging.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=183, chunk: pid=33846 eid=1171 len=273 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=183, chunk: pid=35671 eid=1181 len=56 sect=c7Y text='“What happened?” she asked, stepping into the musky bar.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=184, chunk: pid=34119 eid=1172 len=415 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=184, chunk: pid=35727 eid=1182 len=225 sect=c7Y text='“He took the envelope,” Reck said. Pam’s stomach unclenched, and she could breathe more deeply. And when she saw Frost, the photographer, emerge from the loft with a smile, she knew they’d captured Chicago corruption on film.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=185, chunk: pid=34534 eid=1173 len=398 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=185, chunk: pid=35952 eid=1183 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=e8R position_id map extra at idx=186, chunk: pid=34932 eid=1174 len=123 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=186, chunk: pid=35953 eid=1185 len=488 sect=c7Y text='In eighteen months, Pam had transformed the tavern project from a paper dream hidden among her files to a bona fide business. The walls were freshly painted. The booths were upholstered in sunflower orange and the tables finished off with fresh-cut flowers. Pam even borrowed two prints from her apartment to hang on the walls; they were designs by Marimekko, the iconic Finnish design company, and they added a little of Pam’s midcentury flare to the otherwise humble dive-bar aesthetic.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=187, chunk: pid=35055 eid=1175 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=187, chunk: pid=36441 eid=1186 len=212 sect=c7Y text='But dive bar it was. The shelves were stocked with liquor and beer. A rotating crew of bartenders, including Pam, Reck, Jeff Allen, and a handful of BGA interns, was ready to pour. All they needed were customers.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=188, chunk: pid=35056 eid=1177 len=41 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=188, chunk: pid=36653 eid=1187 len=278 sect=c7Y text='They started coming the afternoon of August 17, 1977, and it quickly became evident that Pam had neglected to prepare for a crucial element of their project. She had no clue how to tend bar. She didn’t even know how to drink. Her personal preference was for white wine over ice.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=189, chunk: pid=35097 eid=1178 len=391 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=189, chunk: pid=36931 eid=1188 len=413 sect=c7Y text='She was quickly exposed. On one of her first shifts, a customer ordered a margarita. She had to ask for a walk-through of the recipe. When another customer ordered a Bloody Mary, Pam couldn’t remember whether to garnish it with lemon or lime. Perhaps her most offensive misstep came when someone ordered a shot and a beer, the official drink pairing of Chicago. To their horror, Pam poured the shot into the beer.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=190, chunk: pid=35488 eid=1179 len=144 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=190, chunk: pid=37344 eid=1189 len=475 sect=c7Y text='Reck knew to keep the liquor out of the beer, but he was just as lost when it came to advanced mixology. Allen knew what he was doing, but he could only work so much, and they needed bartenders with experience as reporters. So Pam alerted her bosses to her foibles and asked them to send experienced backup. Normally this wouldn’t be hard in a newsroom full of reporters for whom happy hour started at lunchtime. But who could they send whom they could trust with the secret?' img=None position_id map extra at idx=191, chunk: pid=35632 eid=1180 len=44 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=191, chunk: pid=37819 eid=1190 len=413 sect=c7Y text='She got her answer soon enough. She was working behind the bar when two newcomers entered and took a seat in the back booth. Pam recognized one as the Sun-Times’s city editor. She didn’t recognize the other, a cub reporter—it turned out—on the Sun-Times suburban desk. He had an innocent, almost boyish look that belied his twenty-five years, with straight black hair and round cheeks that he kept cleanly shaven.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=192, chunk: pid=35676 eid=1181 len=56 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=192, chunk: pid=38232 eid=1191 len=23 sect=c7Y text='His name was Zay Smith.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=193, chunk: pid=35732 eid=1182 len=225 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=193, chunk: pid=38255 eid=1192 len=851 sect=c7Y text='After hearing of Pam’s bartending struggles, the paper’s editors had called him in one night and asked whether he had any experience waiting tables or mixing drinks. He definitely didn’t. But he sensed an opportunity to get out of Siberia, so he said yes. That was all they needed to hear. Zay now met all of their criteria: He could tend bar, helping the Mirage after night fell and Pam went home to regroup. He could turn a phrase, helping tell the more colorful stories that disinterested Pam. And, perhaps most important, he was so new and so irrelevant that none of the reporters at the paper would get suspicious if he stopped showing up at the newsroom for a while. If some expert muckraker disappeared, everyone would assume he was onto something big and start snooping. If Zay disappeared, they’d just assume he couldn’t cut it and got fired.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=194, chunk: pid=35957 eid=1183 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=194, chunk: pid=39106 eid=1193 len=37 sect=c7Y text='Pam slipped into the booth with them.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=195, chunk: pid=35958 eid=1185 len=488 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=195, chunk: pid=39143 eid=1194 len=47 sect=c7Y text='“What do you think?” she asked, looking at Zay.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=196, chunk: pid=36446 eid=1186 len=212 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=196, chunk: pid=39190 eid=1195 len=34 sect=c7Y text='“I think I need a beer,” Zay said.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=197, chunk: pid=36658 eid=1187 len=278 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=197, chunk: pid=39224 eid=1196 len=298 sect=c7Y text='Zay took over as the night bartender, and he took the role seriously. He assigned himself a new identity, Norty the Bartender, and sent himself to professional bartending school for a week. After returning with his diploma, he routinely disappeared behind the back to consult his drink recipe book.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=198, chunk: pid=36936 eid=1188 len=413 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=198, chunk: pid=39522 eid=1197 len=680 sect=c7Y text='But bartending is like reporting: it can’t be taught in a book or in a classroom. And as Zay learned on the job, the Mirage’s customers grew increasingly bemused—and suspicious. For starters, he kept falling, a victim of wobbly legs he’d had since childhood plus a floor slicked with spilled beer. He accidentally served a whiskey ginger with a chewing-gum garnish. He burned an entire matchbook trying, and failing, to serve a flaming cocktail at the behest of a man attempting to impress his date. Another time Zay tried to blend, instead of shake, his whiskey sour, and ended up blending it all over himself, prompting a customer to ask, “So you’re the professional bartender?”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=199, chunk: pid=37349 eid=1189 len=475 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=199, chunk: pid=40202 eid=1198 len=334 sect=c7Y text='Pam was happy to have her evenings back, even if she spent them worrying about what might be happening at the bar. It meant she could be home doing the work she preferred anyway: poring over the notes she’d scribbled during the daylight hours. Those were the hours Pam loved, because that was when the most crucial reporting happened.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=200, chunk: pid=37824 eid=1190 len=413 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=200, chunk: pid=40536 eid=1199 len=583 sect=c7Y text='The daylight was when the public servants wandered in and proved Pam and Reck’s thesis, either through corruption or just plain incompetence. When the Mirage applied for a food license, the health inspector allowed them to open without so much as glancing at the obvious code violations. When the Mirage went shopping for coin-operated entertainment, they came across a former cop who’d gone into the vending business, which was notoriously entangled with organized crime. He arrived a few days after opening with two pinball machines, one jukebox, and an illegal kickback of $1,200.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=201, chunk: pid=38237 eid=1191 len=23 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=201, chunk: pid=41119 eid=1200 len=460 sect=c7Y text='Still, the bread and butter of the project—chronicling shakedowns by city workers—was difficult. These seasoned extortion artists proved as crafty as they were untrustworthy. The plumbing inspector, a portly man named John Khym, was especially shrewd. He’d come in, sweaty and heaving, not long after the bar opened. But after a brief look around, he’d somehow determined that the Mirage wasn’t worthy of, or ready for, a shakedown. He left without inspecting.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=202, chunk: pid=38260 eid=1157 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=202, chunk: pid=41579 eid=1201 len=523 sect=c7Y text='A month later, he came back again and spotted some plumbing repairs the bar had done. Pam and Reck figured he might want some cash in exchange for approving the improvements. And they were right. But the inspector was smart enough to not ask outright for a bribe; instead, he went to the owner of the building, and soon after, the renovations were magically deemed “up to code.” Pam and Reck knew they’d worked out a bribe, but they couldn’t confirm it and hadn’t documented it anyway. It might as well have never happened.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=203, chunk: pid=38261 eid=1159 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=203, chunk: pid=42102 eid=1202 len=18 sect=c7Y text='They were stymied.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=204, chunk: pid=38262 eid=1192 len=851 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=204, chunk: pid=42120 eid=1203 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=e9C position_id map extra at idx=205, chunk: pid=39113 eid=1193 len=37 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=205, chunk: pid=42121 eid=1205 len=90 sect=c7Y text='Jim Frost’s hideaway in the ceiling offered a view of the shakedowns through a small hole.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=206, chunk: pid=39150 eid=1194 len=47 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=206, chunk: pid=42211 eid=1206 len=280 sect=c7Y text='But then, during one of his visits, Khym asked something that stuck in Reck’s head: “You putting any new plumbing in?” Later that summer, they called Khym back and informed him that, indeed, they planned on putting in a new urinal. He promised to come by and see what he could do.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=207, chunk: pid=39197 eid=1195 len=34 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=207, chunk: pid=42491 eid=1207 len=409 sect=c7Y text='Frost, the photographer, happened to be in the bar when the inspector showed up, but he was out of position. Then, without preamble, the inspector walked toward the ladder that led to the photographer’s hideaway, saying he needed to check for ways to ventilate the new urinal. Pam looked at Frost, who was across the bar, posing as a workman on break. He sounded the alarm with his eyes: My camera’s up there.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=208, chunk: pid=39231 eid=1196 len=298 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=208, chunk: pid=42900 eid=1208 len=189 sect=c7Y text='Pam froze. Jeff Allen, the BGA’s hired gun behind the bar, saw what was unfolding and tried to shut it down. “Don’t turn the light on!” he shouted from behind the bar. “You’ll blow a fuse!”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=209, chunk: pid=39529 eid=1197 len=680 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=209, chunk: pid=43089 eid=1209 len=361 sect=c7Y text='That stopped the inspector’s climb. Frost took over, stepping into character as a handyman. “I got a flashlight in the loft,” he said, scrambling up the ladder. Once at the top, he pretended that he was digging around for the flashlight as he buried his camera and tripod under a blanket. He came down, handed the inspector a flashlight, and hoped for the best.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=210, chunk: pid=40209 eid=1198 len=334 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=210, chunk: pid=43450 eid=1210 len=183 sect=c7Y text='Pam watched as the inspector clambered up, peered in, and climbed down. They had plenty of room to vent the urinal, he said. And he only wanted a fifty-dollar bribe to make it happen.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=211, chunk: pid=40543 eid=1199 len=583 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=211, chunk: pid=43633 eid=1154 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=212, chunk: pid=41126 eid=1200 len=460 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=212, chunk: pid=43634 eid=1156 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=213, chunk: pid=41586 eid=1201 len=523 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=213, chunk: pid=43635 eid=1157 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=214, chunk: pid=42109 eid=1202 len=18 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=214, chunk: pid=43636 eid=1159 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=e9T position_id map extra at idx=215, chunk: pid=42127 eid=1203 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=215, chunk: pid=43637 eid=1162 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=216, chunk: pid=42128 eid=1205 len=90 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=216, chunk: pid=43638 eid=1164 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=217, chunk: pid=42218 eid=1206 len=280 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=217, chunk: pid=43639 eid=1165 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=218, chunk: pid=42498 eid=1207 len=409 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=218, chunk: pid=43640 eid=1215 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=219, chunk: pid=42907 eid=1208 len=189 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=219, chunk: pid=43641 eid=1217 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=220, chunk: pid=43096 eid=1209 len=361 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=220, chunk: pid=43642 eid=868 len=13 sect=cA2 text='Grand Opening' img=None position_id map extra at idx=221, chunk: pid=43457 eid=1210 len=182 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=221, chunk: pid=43655 eid=1232 len=270 sect=cA2 text='The crowd was still forming when Pam slipped into the basement and found her seat in front of the camera. She looked more formal, more stylish, than she typically did for her shifts behind the bar: lips glossy, jewelry shimmering, hair sweeping artfully across her face.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=222, chunk: pid=43639 eid=1210+182 len=1 sect=c7Y text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=222, chunk: pid=43925 eid=1233 len=434 sect=cA2 text='Upstairs, the place was packed, with customers dancing to live music and shouting drink orders as Zay struggled to keep up and keep upright. If anyone in the bar was sober enough to notice Pam’s more formal attire, it would be easy to explain: it was the night of the Mirage’s official grand opening party. The truth, though, was downstairs in the basement, amid rusty pipes and exposed wiring. Pam and Reck climbed onto their stools.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=223, chunk: pid=43640 eid=1230 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=223, chunk: pid=44359 eid=1234 len=511 sect=cA2 text='It was Reck’s idea. At the outset, he and Pam had agreed to partner up with a local TV station to share the costs and the glory of the tavern project. But the TV station had pulled out, leaving the Sun-Times and BGA to fund their entire operation. That was fine with Pam; the fewer people who knew, the better, she figured. But those costs were mounting. Pam now figured the project would cost $46,000. So Reck quietly floated the idea to a 60 Minutes producer whom he’d worked with on a previous investigation.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=224, chunk: pid=43641 eid=1215 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=224, chunk: pid=44870 eid=1235 len=18 sect=cA2 text='Pam was skeptical.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=225, chunk: pid=43642 eid=1217 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=225, chunk: pid=44888 eid=1236 len=367 sect=cA2 text='She understood the allure of partnering with a national television outlet, which could bring wider attention to their work. But how would 60 Minutes film without giving the project away? Could they do it without using local cameramen, who would no doubt blow their cover? What if they got “bigfooted” by 60 Minutes, who could easily pass off her reporting as its own?' img=None position_id map extra at idx=226, chunk: pid=43643 eid=1219 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=226, chunk: pid=45255 eid=1237 len=390 sect=cA2 text='In the end, 60 Minutes didn’t want to share in the cost of the reporting. But it did offer to send the famous correspondent Mike Wallace to do a story about Pam and Reck’s gambit. The national exposure was too tantalizing to pass up. So here she and Reck were, in the basement, ready to tell a 60 Minutes camera crew how they came to own and operate the tavern that was thumping above them.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=227, chunk: pid=43644 eid=1221 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=227, chunk: pid=45645 eid=1238 len=71 sect=cA2 text='“How are we starting?” Wallace asked, taking his seat across from them.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=228, chunk: pid=43645 eid=868 len=13 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=228, chunk: pid=45716 eid=1239 len=348 sect=cA2 text='Wallace was one of the most feared interviewers on television. He was known for his combativeness with subjects and occasional boorishness with female colleagues, including an admitted habit of snapping bras and slapping unsuspecting asses. But Wallace, in the basement, treated Pam like an equal, a partner in exposing the Chicago way of business.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=229, chunk: pid=43658 eid=1232 len=270 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=229, chunk: pid=46064 eid=1240 len=95 sect=cA2 text='“You’re a newspaper reporter. A Pulitzer winner,” he said. “Is there entrapment involved here?”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=230, chunk: pid=43928 eid=1233 len=434 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=230, chunk: pid=46159 eid=1241 len=414 sect=cA2 text='Entrapment: the act of luring someone into a crime. A newspaper can’t really entrap someone; technically only law enforcement agents can. Still, that had been the Sun-Times lawyers’ number one rule since the project’s inception: never raise the idea of a bribe. Let the bribers come to you. That way, when the series hit the streets, the inspectors couldn’t claim they were enticed with unwanted envelopes of cash.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=231, chunk: pid=44362 eid=1234 len=511 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=231, chunk: pid=46573 eid=1242 len=107 sect=cA2 text='“None whatsoever,” Pam told Wallace. “We’re letting whatever comes through the door come through the door.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=232, chunk: pid=44873 eid=1235 len=18 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=232, chunk: pid=46680 eid=1243 len=707 sect=cA2 text='Back upstairs, the crowd was growing and congealing, pulled together by Chicago’s favorite bonding agent, beer. To Pam and Reck and Zay, they were “the Mirage Menagerie.” There was the Pinball Wizard, who was on a mission to own the Mirage’s Evel Knievel machine; Football Hero, the former college ball star; Cheeky the Gun Runner, who claimed to sell illegal guns for a former state trooper; Gary the Truck Driver, who ran numbers for a local bookie; and Cowboy Don, who was, well, a cowboy named Don. The whole Menagerie wasn’t present that night, but many of them were, and they were drinking enough to make the Mirage buzz, that rising swell of energy that spills into a packed bar until it spills over.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=233, chunk: pid=44891 eid=1227 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=233, chunk: pid=47387 eid=1244 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=eAP position_id map extra at idx=234, chunk: pid=44892 eid=1229 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=234, chunk: pid=47388 eid=1246 len=792 sect=cA2 text='It was a game of journalistic chicken, this project, and every time Pam and Reck opened the Mirage that summer, a collision seemed more likely. Yes, another night of bartending might help them collect more material for their eventual stories, increasing the odds of making an impact with their readers, their bosses, city officials, and the Pulitzer board. But every night they stayed open increased the risk of blowing the whole project up. A street criminal could see a business opportunity in the Mirage’s cash register. A mobster could see a chance to throw some muscle around. A competing reporter could catch wind of a hot new bar, wander in on a date, and publish the Mirage’s real identity in the next day’s paper. The biggest risk, they figured, was a bar brawl that got out of hand.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=235, chunk: pid=44893 eid=1236 len=367 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=235, chunk: pid=48180 eid=1247 len=40 sect=cA2 text='They’d already had some small squabbles.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=236, chunk: pid=45260 eid=1222 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=236, chunk: pid=48220 eid=1248 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=eAV position_id map extra at idx=237, chunk: pid=45261 eid=1224 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=237, chunk: pid=48221 eid=1250 len=63 sect=cA2 text='Some inspectors could be paid off for as little as ten dollars.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=238, chunk: pid=45262 eid=1237 len=390 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=238, chunk: pid=48284 eid=1251 len=468 sect=cA2 text='One night, a drunk wannabe writer—they called him the Lost Weekend—tried to touch Cowboy Don’s hat, which did not go over well. That fire was easily extinguished. Another night, two drunk women ended up trading punches. Cops were summoned to clear the crowd, and a neighbor called the bar and vowed to chase it out of business. But nothing big had erupted yet, and on this warm September evening, things had gone smoothly enough. Another night was almost in the books.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=239, chunk: pid=45652 eid=1238 len=71 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=239, chunk: pid=48752 eid=1252 len=606 sect=cA2 text='Then the booze took hold. A man teetered over to a crowd of married women, looking to grind. A husband stepped in. Shoves, then punches. One of the wives took a fist to the jaw. Craig, a rail-thin BGA intern who tended bar some nights, scurried out from behind the bar to break up the fight. He raised his hands and shouted, “Come on, guys!” He meant it like “Come on, guys, let’s stop fighting.” They took it as “Come on, guys, let’s fight.” Craig the intern got tossed against a wall. He immediately retreated, kicking himself for violating the first law of bartending: never leave the safety of the bar.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=240, chunk: pid=45723 eid=1239 len=348 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=240, chunk: pid=49358 eid=1253 len=436 sect=cA2 text='A customer took a cocktail glass to the head. Another tried desperately to remake a beer bottle into a shiv. Reck had seen enough. He scurried out the front door and made for the nearest police call box. He and Pam would spend the next several days talking bosses at the paper and the BGA off the ledge, convincing them to let the bar stay open. First, though, they had to clear out the Mirage and hope the police didn’t shut them down.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=241, chunk: pid=46071 eid=1240 len=95 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=241, chunk: pid=49794 eid=1254 len=116 sect=cA2 text='Craig the intern was outside when a cop showed up. “You guys are having some troubles down here, huh?” the cop said.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=242, chunk: pid=46166 eid=1241 len=414 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=242, chunk: pid=49910 eid=1219 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=243, chunk: pid=46580 eid=1242 len=107 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=243, chunk: pid=49911 eid=1221 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=244, chunk: pid=46687 eid=1243 len=707 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=244, chunk: pid=49912 eid=1222 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=245, chunk: pid=47394 eid=1244 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=245, chunk: pid=49913 eid=1224 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=eB7 position_id map extra at idx=246, chunk: pid=47395 eid=1246 len=792 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=246, chunk: pid=49914 eid=1227 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=247, chunk: pid=48187 eid=1247 len=40 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=247, chunk: pid=49915 eid=1229 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=248, chunk: pid=48227 eid=1248 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=248, chunk: pid=49916 eid=1230 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=249, chunk: pid=48228 eid=1250 len=63 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=249, chunk: pid=49917 eid=1258 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=250, chunk: pid=48291 eid=1251 len=468 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=250, chunk: pid=49918 eid=1260 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=251, chunk: pid=48759 eid=1252 len=606 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=251, chunk: pid=49919 eid=869 len=12 sect=cBG text='Closing Time' img=None position_id map extra at idx=252, chunk: pid=49365 eid=1253 len=436 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=252, chunk: pid=49931 eid=1270 len=338 sect=cBG text='There reaches a point in any investigation, and especially an undercover one, where the reporter knows: we’ve got the goods. There may be more goods to be gotten, but getting them involves too many risks to the project’s security or to management’s sanity. Usually it’s just a writer putting off the worst part of being a writer: writing.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=253, chunk: pid=49801 eid=1254 len=115 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=253, chunk: pid=50269 eid=1271 len=692 sect=cBG text='Pam and Reck had everything they needed to publish. They had the goods. In the meantime, it had become clear that the Mirage would soon be discovered by a rival, or worse, a city official. The Trib had dispatched a reporter to drive the city in search of the tavern. There’d been a leak within the Sun-Times, too, and word of Pam’s first big project for the paper was now spreading around the newsroom. The customers were getting suspicious. One suggested that the Mirage was a front for the mob; why else would there be all the whispered phone calls and general shiftiness? Another leaned into the bartender on duty and whispered: “See that barmaid over there? I think that’s Pamela Zekman.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=254, chunk: pid=49916 eid=1254+115 len=1 sect=cA2 text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=254, chunk: pid=50961 eid=1272 len=62 sect=cBG text='So, yes. It was past time to shut it down. But first, a party.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=255, chunk: pid=49917 eid=1268 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=255, chunk: pid=51023 eid=1273 len=104 sect=cBG text='They billed it as a send-off before the bar closed “for redecorating.” By nightfall, the bar was jammed.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=256, chunk: pid=49918 eid=1258 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=256, chunk: pid=51127 eid=1274 len=476 sect=cBG text='This time, there were also new additions to the Mirage Menagerie. Pam’s husband came, finally getting a glimpse of the bar that had stolen his new bride. Zay’s parents came, too, which was nice, since he hadn’t been able to explain why his name had so suddenly disappeared from the paper. Jim Frost, the photographer, brought his wife and told her about the project for the first time as they drove in from the suburbs, her eyes growing like the skyscrapers in the windshield.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=257, chunk: pid=49919 eid=1260 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=257, chunk: pid=51603 eid=1275 len=245 sect=cBG text='The paper’s editors came too. They drank and danced and played pinball until last call. Then daylight saving time let the clocks fall back an hour, allowing the Mirage to stay open just a little longer. If the Trib discovered them now, so be it.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=258, chunk: pid=49920 eid=1262 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=258, chunk: pid=51848 eid=1276 len=343 sect=cBG text='Sometime during the night, Pam found Hoge, the editor who had greenlit this gambit. It was too loud to talk, and they couldn’t say anything anyway—not here, packed in with the loyal regulars. But Hoge smiled, just like he had done on the bridge twenty long months before. Pam knew just what he meant: They’d pulled it off. She’d pulled it off.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=259, chunk: pid=49921 eid=1264 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=259, chunk: pid=52191 eid=1277 len=348 sect=cBG text='When the crowd finally cleared, Pam and Reck and Zay lifted the stools onto the bar, unplugged the jukeboxes, and turned out the lights. They were relieved, and a little sad, and a lot scared about what the next few crucial months would bring. For now, though, with the city dark and still, they just locked the doors to the Mirage and disappeared.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=260, chunk: pid=49922 eid=869 len=12 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=260, chunk: pid=52539 eid=1278 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=eC0 position_id map extra at idx=261, chunk: pid=49934 eid=1270 len=338 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=261, chunk: pid=52540 eid=1280 len=291 sect=cBG text='Pam stepped into a plush suite at the Ritz-Carlton. The shades were drawn, but the lights from the cameras painted the room a glowing white, and the fresh-cut daisies were arranged behind the couches, little bursts of yellow and orange that would pair nicely with the journalistic fireworks.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=262, chunk: pid=50272 eid=1271 len=692 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=262, chunk: pid=52831 eid=1281 len=623 sect=cBG text='She had chronicled incompetence and corruption, including shakedowns from fire officials, liquor regulators, and even the elusive plumbing inspector. With the bar now closed, she had agreed to allow Mike Wallace to ambush Philip Barasch, the Mirage’s accountant turned bribery consultant. A film crew moved into the Ritz, where Barasch would soon arrive to sit for what he thought was an interview about “the plight of the small businessman.” Then Pam and Reck would walk in, still posing as rookie tavern owners Mr. and Mrs. Patterson, to confront Barasch on camera about all the bribes they’d handed out at his direction.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=263, chunk: pid=50964 eid=1272 len=62 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=263, chunk: pid=53454 eid=1282 len=249 sect=cBG text='At least, that’s what Pam thought the plan was. But as they prepared for the interview, it became clear that Wallace had something else in mind. He wanted Pam and Reck to introduce themselves as reporter Pam Zekman and investigator Bill Recktenwald.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=264, chunk: pid=51026 eid=1273 len=104 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=264, chunk: pid=53703 eid=1283 len=45 sect=cBG text='Pam politely told Wallace she wouldn’t do it.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=265, chunk: pid=51130 eid=1274 len=476 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=265, chunk: pid=53748 eid=1284 len=47 sect=cBG text='“Do you know what Barasch could do?” Pam asked.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=266, chunk: pid=51606 eid=1265 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=266, chunk: pid=53795 eid=1285 len=393 sect=cBG text='If they blew their cover now, Barasch could go to his inspector friends and tell them what was coming. He could tell the rival Tribune and let the paper scoop the Sun-Times. And who knew where that could lead? Horror stories were etched into Pam’s memory of government agencies rolling out reforms before a major investigation was published, then dismissing the paper’s findings as “old news.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=267, chunk: pid=51607 eid=1267 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=267, chunk: pid=54188 eid=1286 len=329 sect=cBG text='Wallace didn’t seem to care about that—about anything that might happen after 60 Minutes got what 60 Minutes needed. Whatever respect Wallace had shown her had been replaced by his bravado, which was shaking the suite’s walls. Pam, in the moment, was little more than a well-dressed nuisance. A local newspaper reporter! A woman!' img=None position_id map extra at idx=268, chunk: pid=51608 eid=1275 len=245 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=268, chunk: pid=54517 eid=1287 len=60 sect=cBG text='“He can’t do anything!” Wallace said, turning up the volume.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=269, chunk: pid=51853 eid=1276 len=343 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=269, chunk: pid=54577 eid=1288 len=63 sect=cBG text='“The hell he can’t!” Pam said, getting a little louder herself.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=270, chunk: pid=52196 eid=1277 len=348 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=270, chunk: pid=54640 eid=1289 len=157 sect=cBG text='“You know what I ought to do?” Wallace told Pam finally, after gentle and then not-so-gentle persuasion failed. “I ought to throw you right out that window!”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=271, chunk: pid=52544 eid=1278 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=271, chunk: pid=54797 eid=1290 len=399 sect=cBG text='There it was: the threat of violence, lobbed at the accomplished reporter who had invited Wallace to a party of her invention. Pam met his fury with a stare. Reck, always her protector, stood by in silence this time. He viewed it as typical competitive fire between two prideful journalists. Pam figured he was caught between his loyalty to her and his desire to continue partnering with 60 Minutes.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=272, chunk: pid=52545 eid=1280 len=291 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=272, chunk: pid=55196 eid=1291 len=407 sect=cBG text='Finally, Wallace decided to go over Pam’s head—to call the man in charge. He told Pam to ring Jim Hoge, the editor who had poached her and supported her and protected her. She got Hoge on the line, handed the phone to Wallace, and watched one of America’s preeminent journalists try to gently coax her editor out of her corner. “No, no,” Wallace said, “we aren’t planning anything that would cause trouble.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=273, chunk: pid=52836 eid=1281 len=623 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=273, chunk: pid=55603 eid=1292 len=44 sect=cBG text='Wallace hung up the phone and looked at Pam.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=274, chunk: pid=53459 eid=1282 len=249 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=274, chunk: pid=55647 eid=1293 len=29 sect=cBG text='“We do it your way,” he said.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=275, chunk: pid=53708 eid=1283 len=45 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=275, chunk: pid=55676 eid=1294 len=619 sect=cBG text='The cameras rolled. Feeling shaken and small, Pam stepped out of the suite’s living room to let Wallace greet Barasch. Then, not long into the interview, Mr. and Mrs. Ray Patterson walked in and settled on the plush beige couch. It was supposed to be a confrontation between two small business owners and the man who had corrupted them. But Pam, shifting, fidgeting, let Wallace and Reck do the talking. She watched Barasch wither and twitch under Wallace’s interrogation, and she marveled at the sight of him quiet and humbled, and she hoped against hope he could keep his mouth shut until their story hit the streets.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=276, chunk: pid=53753 eid=1284 len=47 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=276, chunk: pid=56295 eid=1295 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=eCJ position_id map extra at idx=277, chunk: pid=53800 eid=1285 len=393 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=277, chunk: pid=56296 eid=1262 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=278, chunk: pid=54193 eid=1286 len=329 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=278, chunk: pid=56297 eid=1264 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=279, chunk: pid=54522 eid=1287 len=60 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=279, chunk: pid=56298 eid=1265 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=280, chunk: pid=54582 eid=1288 len=63 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=280, chunk: pid=56299 eid=1267 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=281, chunk: pid=54645 eid=1289 len=157 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=281, chunk: pid=56300 eid=1268 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=282, chunk: pid=54802 eid=1290 len=399 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=282, chunk: pid=56301 eid=1300 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=283, chunk: pid=55201 eid=1291 len=407 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=283, chunk: pid=56302 eid=1302 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=284, chunk: pid=55608 eid=1292 len=44 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=284, chunk: pid=56303 eid=870 len=9 sect=cCX text='Thumbs-Up' img=None position_id map extra at idx=285, chunk: pid=55652 eid=1293 len=29 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=285, chunk: pid=56312 eid=1312 len=519 sect=cCX text='That winter, Pam spent her days shuttling between city hall and the newsroom—two places where showing her face prompted gale-force whispers about what she was up to. At city hall, she moved from office to office, showing city officials photos of the blatant code violations at the Mirage. She didn’t mention that the Sun-Times owned the bar. She just scribbled notes as the inspectors described in detail what a disaster the Mirage was—a real melting pot of fire hazards, safety issues, and potential disease outbreaks.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=286, chunk: pid=55681 eid=1294 len=619 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=286, chunk: pid=56831 eid=1313 len=752 sect=cCX text='In the newsroom, she ducked into the secret windowless office where she and Zay were pounding out the project’s twenty-five individual stories. She sifted through towers of notes and records and delivered them to Zay, who hunched over his typewriter and pounded out stories about shakedown artists and tax skimmers, pinball wizards and working girls. Meanwhile, Reck’s job was to raise the profile of the series by arranging press conferences to tout its findings and call for reforms. He got creative, ordering custom matchbooks with “Mirage” on one side and “Beer, Grog, Ale” printed on them—a coded reference to his BGA. With about ten days to go before publication, he visited the lobby of the Chicago Tribune and left behind a stack of matchbooks.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=287, chunk: pid=56300 eid=1295 len=1 sect=cBG text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=287, chunk: pid=57583 eid=1314 len=411 sect=cCX text='It had been three years since Pam, striding across that bridge, first floated the idea to Hoge. After closing the bar in October, Pam’s bosses had hoped to publish before the new year, allowing them to submit it for the Pulitzers awarded early the next year. But they didn’t want to drop a bomb on the city around the holidays, and they didn’t want to rush Pam. Not with her reputation and the paper’s at stake.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=288, chunk: pid=56301 eid=1310 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=288, chunk: pid=57994 eid=1315 len=175 sect=cCX text='When publication day finally arrived, on January 8, 1978, they each scrambled to get the paper and held up the front page. It screamed: “Our ‘bar’ uncovers payoffs, tax gyps.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=289, chunk: pid=56302 eid=1300 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=289, chunk: pid=58169 eid=1316 len=130 sect=cCX text='The story was anchored by a photo of the fire inspector, standing at the bar, cig burning, clutching an envelope filled with cash.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=290, chunk: pid=56303 eid=1302 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=290, chunk: pid=58299 eid=1317 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=eDA position_id map extra at idx=291, chunk: pid=56304 eid=1304 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=291, chunk: pid=58300 eid=1319 len=102 sect=cCX text='Three years after the idea’s inception, Zekman’s team celebrated the front-page success of the Mirage.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=292, chunk: pid=56305 eid=1306 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=292, chunk: pid=58402 eid=1320 len=47 sect=cCX text='Coauthored by Pam and Zay, it opened like this:' img=None position_id map extra at idx=293, chunk: pid=56306 eid=870 len=9 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=293, chunk: pid=58449 eid=1321 len=155 sect=cCX text='It looked like any neighborhood tavern in Chicago. The beer was cold, the bratwursts hot. But the Mirage, 731 N. Wells St., was never quite what it seemed.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=294, chunk: pid=56315 eid=1312 len=519 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=294, chunk: pid=58604 eid=1323 len=354 sect=cCX text='The stories ran all week, so all week, Reck found his way into the newsroom to watch the pages get laid out at night so he could see where the series’ lighter moments landed—the tales of shots in beers and tumbling bartenders. Then the next morning, he would ride the El train to and from the newsroom and watch passengers chuckle at all the right spots.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=295, chunk: pid=56834 eid=1313 len=752 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=295, chunk: pid=58958 eid=1324 len=476 sect=cCX text='Zay, the quiet cub reporter who everyone assumed had been fired, found his validation inside the newsroom. A few days into the series, he walked past the bank of cubicles they called “murderer’s row,” home to the columnists he hoped to work alongside one day. They looked up from their papers and gave him a thumbs-up, and he held on to those thumbs for another thirty years, even if, as he suspected, they were most impressed by the fact that he sneaked “ass” into the paper.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=296, chunk: pid=57586 eid=1314 len=411 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=296, chunk: pid=59434 eid=1325 len=441 sect=cCX text='Pam spent that week fielding calls. Tucked inside the newspaper was an invitation to readers: “Hit by shakedown? A hotline for you.” It included a request for tips from small business owners who’d been hit up for bribes by city officials and the number for a dedicated shakedown hotline. A thousand tips rolled in from business owners, contractors, truck drivers, and other Chicagoans who suddenly felt like their stories were worth telling.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=297, chunk: pid=57997 eid=1307 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=297, chunk: pid=59875 eid=1326 len=902 sect=cCX text='The response from the government was slow. Mayor Daley had died in late 1976, but his replacement, Michael Bilandic, was a loyalist of the Daley political machine. He mumbled about “rotten apples,” suspended a few inspectors, and tried to leave it at that. But Pam, armed with fresh tips, kept exposing shakedowns and asking lawmakers what they planned to do about it. Pizza shops, butchers, truck drivers, and architects all called in with stories of having to bribe city officials to keep their businesses running. Week after week, more stories, and more change at city hall. A shake-up at the top of the fire department. A new anticorruption unit at the police department. New rules requiring inspectors to work in pairs. Eventually, the FBI indicted and convicted dozens of inspectors. When Bilandic came up for reelection, he was ousted by Jane Byrne, a reformer and the city’s first female mayor.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=298, chunk: pid=57998 eid=1309 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=298, chunk: pid=60777 eid=1327 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=eDN position_id map extra at idx=299, chunk: pid=57999 eid=1315 len=175 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=299, chunk: pid=60778 eid=1329 len=418 sect=cCX text='Later in the year, the Sun-Times began to prepare for the Pulitzers. Throughout the 1970s, Chicago newspapers had been a staple of the annual awards ceremony, with the Sun-Times and Trib winning nine Pulitzers between them. That year, even the Trib’s editors had to admit that the Mirage project was a likely and deserving winner—“one of the preeminent exercises in journalism’s history,” as one Chicago writer put it.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=300, chunk: pid=58174 eid=1316 len=130 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=300, chunk: pid=61196 eid=1330 len=512 sect=cCX text='The Sun-Times had another story to pin its hopes on too. After closing the Mirage, Pam and a team of female investigators had exposed several abortion clinics that were returning false pregnancy tests and performing sham abortions on nonpregnant women. The series, called “The Abortion Profiteers,” spurred a state fraud investigation and won several awards. Hoge’s faith in Pam—and in undercover journalism—was being rewarded. A Pulitzer would fully validate their unique love affair with clandestine reportage.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=301, chunk: pid=58304 eid=1317 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=301, chunk: pid=61708 eid=1331 len=660 sect=cCX text='Word around the newsroom was that the Mirage series had been nominated as a finalist by jurors and was considered the obvious frontrunner. As Zay remembers it, the Sun-Times management was so confident in their chances that they printed large cardboard headshots of Pam, Zay, and the photographers to be on display during the newsroom’s inevitable champagne toast. Pam, though, kept her hopes down. She knew they’d crossed a line that few crossed—from going undercover to see the victims, as they’d done on previous stories, to becoming the victims of the shakedowns. She believed it was justified, but she figured the Pulitzer board might not see it that way.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=302, chunk: pid=58305 eid=1319 len=102 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=302, chunk: pid=62368 eid=1332 len=578 sect=cCX text='In April 1979 word came: the Mirage had lost. Despite the jury’s enthusiasm, the fifteen men of the powerful Pulitzer board, spurred on by famed Washington Post editor Ben Bradlee, voted it down. There was—there always had been—a kind of East Coast disdain for Chicago-style undercover reporting. This year, the industry’s power brokers decided to make a statement, turning down both of Pam’s exposés. “We instruct our reporters not to misrepresent themselves, period,” Bradlee said at the time. Rewarding Pam and Reck’s work, he said, “could send journalism on a wrong course.”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=303, chunk: pid=58407 eid=1320 len=47 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=303, chunk: pid=62946 eid=1333 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=eDW position_id map extra at idx=304, chunk: pid=58454 eid=1321 len=155 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=304, chunk: pid=62947 eid=1335 len=324 sect=cCX text='Just as winning the ultimate award could loosen a paper’s coffers for undercover reporting, losing Pulitzers tightened them. There was a clear chilling effect, especially in Chicago. Jack Fuller, a prominent Chicago journalist of the era, wrote that the 1979 Pulitzer debate “pretty much put an end” to undercover reporting.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=305, chunk: pid=58609 eid=1323 len=354 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=305, chunk: pid=63271 eid=1336 len=519 sect=cCX text='The reality is a little more complicated. It’s true that after the Mirage, newspaper editors were much less likely to proudly announce that they had sent reporters undercover to ferret out injustice, especially when promoting their work during award season. But the centuries-old tradition continued, with papers continuing to publish and win prizes for undercover journalism. In 1980 a Nashville Tennessean went undercover with the Ku Klux Klan. In the 1990s Ted Conover went undercover as a prison guard at Sing Sing.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=306, chunk: pid=58963 eid=1324 len=476 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=306, chunk: pid=63790 eid=1337 len=924 sect=cCX text='Perhaps the best example of undercover reporting’s new, quieter place in the journalistic landscape came in 2007. Unable to access Walter Reed Army Hospital, two reporters entered as visitors, without notebooks, and took pains not to identify themselves as they witnessed rampant neglect. When their series was published, the paper’s editors went out of their way to tell readers that the reporters never went undercover. And in the end, the stories were an unmitigated success story, prompting widespread reform at the hospital. The series even won a Pulitzer Prize for the reporters and their newspaper: the Washington Post. In 2017 one of the year’s most heralded pieces of investigative journalism was written by a Mother Jones journalist who got a job as a private prison guard to expose horrific conditions and raise important questions about the private prison system. The story won a coveted National Magazine Award.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=307, chunk: pid=59439 eid=1325 len=441 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=307, chunk: pid=64714 eid=1338 len=428 sect=cCX text='Even the Mirage team kept slipping undercover for a while. Reck got a job at the Tribune, his first in journalism, and promptly found “work” as a Pontiac Prison guard. Zay Smith wrote for the Sun-Times for three more decades, eventually becoming a stylish columnist not unlike the ones who’d flashed him those unforgettable thumbs-ups. But before he became a columnist, he “joined” a religious cult to expose its inner workings.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=308, chunk: pid=59880 eid=1326 len=902 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=308, chunk: pid=65142 eid=1339 len=439 sect=cCX text='Pam did some more undercover work for the Sun-Times, including a brief stint as a dance instructor to expose fraud at the Fred Astaire Dance Studio. But it was clear to her that the era in which she had thrived—the era of ambitious, expensive, and proudly undercover reporting—was over, at least for newspapers. In 1981 Chicago’s CBS affiliate came calling. They’d seen her on 60 Minutes and thought maybe she’d want to try her hand at TV.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=309, chunk: pid=60782 eid=1327 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=309, chunk: pid=65581 eid=1304 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=310, chunk: pid=60783 eid=1329 len=418 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=310, chunk: pid=65582 eid=1306 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=311, chunk: pid=61201 eid=1330 len=512 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=311, chunk: pid=65583 eid=1307 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=312, chunk: pid=61713 eid=1331 len=660 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=312, chunk: pid=65584 eid=1309 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=313, chunk: pid=62373 eid=1332 len=578 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=313, chunk: pid=65585 eid=1310 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=314, chunk: pid=62951 eid=1333 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=314, chunk: pid=65586 eid=1343 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=315, chunk: pid=62952 eid=1335 len=324 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=315, chunk: pid=65587 eid=1345 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=316, chunk: pid=63276 eid=1336 len=519 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=316, chunk: pid=65588 eid=871 len=12 sect=cEB text='Camera Ready' img=None position_id map extra at idx=317, chunk: pid=63795 eid=1337 len=924 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=317, chunk: pid=65600 eid=1358 len=11 sect=cEB text='Present day' img=None position_id map extra at idx=318, chunk: pid=64719 eid=1338 len=428 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=318, chunk: pid=65611 eid=1359 len=429 sect=cEB text='Pam’s alarm rouses her at around six most days, and she moves, slowly but with purpose, to start her day: coffee, shower, clothes, makeup. Though she prefers to work on projects that take a week or longer, she dresses each day in a blouse and either wears a jacket or brings one, just in case she’ll be on camera that evening. She never knows if news will break about one of the hundreds of stories she’s followed over the years.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=319, chunk: pid=65147 eid=1339 len=438 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=319, chunk: pid=66040 eid=1360 len=384 sect=cEB text='For most of the last four decades, she did this routine alongside her husband, Rick. But he died in 2016 of lung cancer, so now she basically does it alone, save for a nuzzle from her dog, a border collie named Oliver. A little before eight, she loads a large rolling briefcase stuffed with files into her small SUV and drives to work, catching up on the morning’s news as she drives.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=320, chunk: pid=65585 eid=1339+438 len=1 sect=cCX text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=320, chunk: pid=66424 eid=1361 len=486 sect=cEB text='She’s downtown in about twenty minutes. She pushes through the revolving doors of CBS Chicago’s headquarters inside a glass tower in the pulsing heart of downtown. The flat screens on lobby walls flicker with a promo for the station’s team of investigative reporters. If she stopped for a moment, she could catch a view of herself, zooming into the picture like a shooting star: a shock of red hair, a little shorter and dimmer than in her days as a fake barmaid, but unmistakably hers.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=321, chunk: pid=65586 eid=1356 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=321, chunk: pid=66910 eid=1362 len=773 sect=cEB text='Once upstairs, Pam makes her way into the windowless hideaway she shares with the rest of the I-team. Their cubicles are mostly barren, save for a few family photos and other trinkets. Pam’s, though, is a monument to a career of uncovering. Her dozens of local Emmys stand in a two-deep formation atop a file cabinet near her desk. Plaques line the walls above her cluttered cubical and the next. Above her computer are photos, letters of gratitude, and other fading reminders that few local television reporters have had a career as decorated as hers. Every so often, her colleague, a young and hard-charging investigator named Brad, wonders aloud whether any other reporter has won Pulitzers, two Peabody Awards, and two duPont Awards. Pam shrugs and tries to ignore him.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=322, chunk: pid=65587 eid=1347 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=322, chunk: pid=67683 eid=1363 len=729 sect=cEB text='Pam was reluctant when CBS 2 approached her after the Mirage series was published. To her, newspapers were the gold standard of journalism, the places where the best reporters were allowed the most time to uncover the worst abuses, which is all Pam ever cared about. She’s never thought much about why she cares so much about helping people through her work; it’s always seemed obvious to her. And it always seemed obvious that a newspaper was the best medium to accomplish that. But CBS 2 had seen her on 60 Minutes and wondered if Pam might want to try that sort of thing on TV. And they’d seemed serious about it, offering her a long-term contract, a big budget, and plenty of time to dig up important stories. She had leaped.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=323, chunk: pid=65588 eid=1349 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=323, chunk: pid=68412 eid=1364 len=617 sect=cEB text='It quickly became obvious that Pam’s calling card—undercover reporting—wouldn’t do much good on television. TV news producers and reporters do sometimes go undercover, making use of fake identities and hidden cameras to expose abuses. (Most famously in 1992, ABC News producers got jobs at Food Lion grocery stories and exposed unsafe and illegal food handling. The grocery chain successfully sued ABC News for trespassing, a case that lives on in newsrooms and media ethics seminars across the country.) But Pam’s face was well known in Chicago, which made it a lot harder to go undercover with a camera crew in tow.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=324, chunk: pid=65589 eid=1343 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=324, chunk: pid=69029 eid=1365 len=958 sect=cEB text='So as a television reporter, Pam settled into the kind of work that was, in essence, the opposite of undercover. Not long after arriving at CBS, she got a tip that the Chicago Police Department was systematically dismissing large percentages of the crimes being reported throughout the city in order to tout a dropping crime rate. There was no ruse that could prove the story. She and her team spent four months comparing criminal activity reports with crime statistics to prove that the police department routinely ignored half of the reports of rape and large percentages of other crimes. She found victims of crimes who had been ignored and convinced them to be interviewed on camera. Then she found police officers who had been instructed to falsify police reports and convinced them to do the same. The resulting stories prompted state and federal investigations and won several prestigious awards. Pam, it turned out, was even more powerful as herself.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=325, chunk: pid=65590 eid=1345 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=325, chunk: pid=69987 eid=1366 len=649 sect=cEB text='The TV news business, just like the rest of the news business, isn’t what it was in 1981, or 1991, or even 2001. Budgets and staffs have shrunk; the news cycle calls. Nowadays, Pam does more stories every week, every year, than she ever imagined she would. And she does it with colleagues who seem to get younger every year. Most of her old colleagues have retired or moved on. Reck, her partner in sleuthing, now teaches investigative journalism at Southern Illinois University. Zay Smith, the clumsy bartender and wordsmith, is retired, although he’s been spending some of his free time trying to find someone to turn the Mirage tale into a movie.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=326, chunk: pid=65591 eid=1350 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=326, chunk: pid=70636 eid=1367 len=342 sect=cEB text='But Pam keeps going. The work is basically the same. She arrives at the office, finds more coffee, settles into her desk chair, checks her voice mails for tips, unloads the papers she stuffed into her briefcase the night before, and goes about trying to prove that somewhere, someone in Chicago is getting ripped off by someone more powerful.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=327, chunk: pid=65592 eid=1352 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=327, chunk: pid=70978 eid=1368 len=783 sect=cEB text='One day in 2018, the story is about Chicago’s city hall. For two years, Pam has been pounding the airwaves with stories about the city’s ambulance fleet, which has been too small to handle spiking violence. Ambulance wait times, Pam’s reported, should be six minutes. She’s found instances of seriously injured Chicagoans waiting much longer, including a child hit by a car, an overdose victim, and a high-risk pregnant woman in labor, all of whom waited nineteen minutes or more. She has detailed how the ambulance fleet’s size has remained static as emergency calls have steadily increased. She has obtained audio of panicked dispatchers pleading for paramedics: “Anybody? Anybody else available out there?” Then she found multiple paramedics willing to blow the whistle on camera.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=328, chunk: pid=65593 eid=871 len=12 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=328, chunk: pid=71761 eid=1369 len=456 sect=cEB text='The city’s inspector general called for more ambulances, citing Pam’s reporting. City officials promised to add more ambulances. But the city still needs more. Just that week, a woman hit by a car had waited thirty-two minutes for an ambulance. So Pam, after checking in at the office, finds her way to a local assembly plant. The mayor, President Obama’s former chief of staff, Rahm Emanuel, is doing a PR event to promote the city’s new LED streetlights.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=329, chunk: pid=65605 eid=1358 len=11 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=329, chunk: pid=72217 eid=1370 len=132 sect=cEB text='“It was cold,” Pam tells the mayor when he opens the event up for questions. “She was on the ground, waiting for an ambulance, and—”' img=None position_id map extra at idx=330, chunk: pid=65616 eid=1359 len=429 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=330, chunk: pid=72349 eid=1371 len=446 sect=cEB text='“Pam,” the mayor says, talking over her. He recites his promise to add more ambulances, then abruptly ends the event. As he tries to leave, Pam finds him near the door and tries to ask him why a seemingly simple act—buying ambulances—is taking so long. The mayor shakes his head and looks away. A burly city official steps between Pam and the mayor. “The press conference is over,” the guy says. Pam raises her microphone and waits for an answer.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=331, chunk: pid=66045 eid=1360 len=384 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=331, chunk: pid=72795 eid=1347 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=332, chunk: pid=66429 eid=1361 len=486 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=332, chunk: pid=72796 eid=1349 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=333, chunk: pid=66915 eid=1362 len=773 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=333, chunk: pid=72797 eid=1350 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=334, chunk: pid=67688 eid=1363 len=729 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=334, chunk: pid=72798 eid=1352 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=335, chunk: pid=68417 eid=1364 len=617 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=335, chunk: pid=72799 eid=1353 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=336, chunk: pid=69034 eid=1365 len=958 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=336, chunk: pid=72800 eid=1355 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=337, chunk: pid=69992 eid=1366 len=649 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=337, chunk: pid=72801 eid=1356 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=338, chunk: pid=70641 eid=1367 len=342 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=338, chunk: pid=72802 eid=1372 len=1 sect=cFB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=339, chunk: pid=70983 eid=1353 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=339, chunk: pid=72803 eid=1374 len=1 sect=cFB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=340, chunk: pid=70984 eid=1355 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=340, chunk: pid=72804 eid=872 len=13 sect=cFB text='Author’s Note' img=None position_id map extra at idx=341, chunk: pid=70985 eid=1368 len=783 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=341, chunk: pid=72817 eid=1380 len=315 sect=cFB text='This is a work of nonfiction. It is based largely on interviews with the participants, including several interviews with Pam Zekman, Zay Smith, Bill Recktenwald, and others. I also relied on Pam and Zay’s excellent 1979 book, The Mirage, mostly to jog the participants’ memories, which were sharper than I expected.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=342, chunk: pid=71768 eid=1369 len=456 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=342, chunk: pid=73132 eid=1381 len=361 sect=cFB text='Several books were useful in helping put the story in context, especially Undercover Reporting: The Truth about Deception, by Brooke Kroeger, and Mike Royko’s Boss: Richard J. Daley of Chicago. I also consulted dozens of newspaper and magazine stories from that era, mostly from the Chicago Sun-Times and Tribune, as well as 60 Minutes’s coverage of the Mirage.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=343, chunk: pid=72224 eid=1370 len=132 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=343, chunk: pid=73493 eid=1378 len=327 sect=cFB text='It’s worth noting that I first heard about the Mirage almost twenty years ago, on one of my first days as a student at Northwestern University’s graduate journalism school. My professor, a former Sun-Times reporter named Jon Ziomek, told us the story as a way to inspire us to dig deep. We were in a bar at the time, naturally.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=344, chunk: pid=72356 eid=1371 len=445 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=344, chunk: pid=73820 eid=1376 len=1 sect=cFB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=345, chunk: pid=72801 eid=1371+445 len=1 sect=cEB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=345, chunk: pid=73821 eid=1382 len=1 sect=cFS text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=346, chunk: pid=72802 eid=1376 len=1 sect=cFB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=346, chunk: pid=73822 eid=1384 len=1 sect=cFS text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=347, chunk: pid=72803 eid=1372 len=1 sect=cFB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=347, chunk: pid=73823 eid=873 len=16 sect=cFS text='About the Author' img=None position_id map extra at idx=348, chunk: pid=72804 eid=1374 len=1 sect=cFB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=348, chunk: pid=73839 eid=1391 len=1 sect=cFS text=None img=eG0 position_id map extra at idx=349, chunk: pid=72805 eid=872 len=13 sect=cFB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=349, chunk: pid=73840 eid=1394 len=29 sect=cFS text='Photo © 2017 Catherine Downes' img=None position_id map extra at idx=350, chunk: pid=72818 eid=1380 len=315 sect=cFB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=350, chunk: pid=73869 eid=1396 len=246 sect=cFS text='Joe Tone is an award-winning investigative reporter, and the author of Bones: Brothers, Horses, Cartels, and the Borderland Dream, a finalist for a PEN America Literary Award. His work has appeared in the Washington Post, Deadspin, and elsewhere.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=351, chunk: pid=73133 eid=1381 len=361 sect=cFB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=351, chunk: pid=74115 eid=1386 len=1 sect=cFS text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=352, chunk: pid=73494 eid=1378 len=326 sect=cFB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=352, chunk: pid=74116 eid=1388 len=1 sect=cFS text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=353, chunk: pid=73820 eid=1378+326 len=1 sect=cFB text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=353, chunk: pid=74117 eid=1389 len=1 sect=cFS text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=354, chunk: pid=73821 eid=1389 len=1 sect=cFS text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=354, chunk: pid=74118 eid=1398 len=1 sect=cGB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=355, chunk: pid=73822 eid=1382 len=1 sect=cFS text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=355, chunk: pid=74119 eid=1400 len=1 sect=cGB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=356, chunk: pid=73823 eid=1384 len=1 sect=cFS text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=356, chunk: pid=74120 eid=874 len=13 sect=cGB text='Image Credits' img=None position_id map extra at idx=357, chunk: pid=73824 eid=1386 len=1 sect=cFS text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=357, chunk: pid=74133 eid=1405 len=59 sect=cGB text='Chicago in 1973 (all): Courtesy of Joe and Jeanette Archie.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=358, chunk: pid=73825 eid=1388 len=1 sect=cFS text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=358, chunk: pid=74192 eid=1404 len=62 sect=cGB text='Photos of the Mirage (all): Courtesy of the Chicago Sun-Times.' img=None position_id map extra at idx=359, chunk: pid=73826 eid=873 len=16 sect=cFS text=None img=None position_id content extra at idx=359, chunk: pid=74254 eid=1402 len=1 sect=cGB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=360, chunk: pid=73842 eid=1391 len=1 sect=cFS text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=361, chunk: pid=73843 eid=1394 len=29 sect=cFS text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=362, chunk: pid=73872 eid=1396 len=245 sect=cFS text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=363, chunk: pid=74117 eid=1396+245 len=1 sect=cFS text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=364, chunk: pid=74118 eid=1398 len=1 sect=cGB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=365, chunk: pid=74119 eid=1400 len=1 sect=cGB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=366, chunk: pid=74120 eid=874 len=13 sect=cGB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=367, chunk: pid=74133 eid=1405 len=59 sect=cGB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=368, chunk: pid=74192 eid=1404 len=61 sect=cGB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=369, chunk: pid=74253 eid=1402 len=1 sect=cGB text=None img=None position_id map extra at idx=370, chunk: pid=74254 eid=1404+61 len=1 sect=cGB text=None img=None kfxgen version: 20.12.238.0 Features: CanonicalFormat-2, kfxgen.pidMapWithOffset-1, kfxgen.textBlock-1, max_id-787, reflow-style-6 Metadata: ASIN=B07QHBCGJL, asset_id=CR!QE5DHAQM9X2G3DJ7BZ9EZ3RCPZYQ, author="Tone, Joe", book_id=Stj4w_BpS4O54sMsYdDIPA0, cde_content_type=EBOK, content_id=B07QHBCGJL, cover_image=1280x1920, creator_version=2.15.0, description=, file_creator=YJConversionTools, is_sample=False, issue_date=2019-05-30, language=en, nested_span=enabled, override_kindle_font=True, pages=56, publisher=, reading_orders=1, selection=enabled, title="Ms. Mirage (Exposure collection)" Package KFX (from KFX Input): Imported as /var/folders/77/l619y4256td6rb3q2p96lwhh0000gn/C/calibre_5.40.0_tmp_06gxd6m6/uas756lc.kfx KFX metadata reader (from KFX Input) activated for /var/folders/77/l619y4256td6rb3q2p96lwhh0000gn/C/calibre_5.40.0_tmp_06gxd6m6/ozvs86s0_add_books/0/B07QHBCGJL_EBOK.kfx Added Ms. Mirage (Exposure collection) to db in: 0.7 Added 1 books in 10.1 seconds

[ElleKayEm]

Looks like it's because it's a borrowed book:

Warning: This book is licensed as Prime. These tools are intended for use on purchased books.

I thought that had been removed from this version of DeDRM, but maybe not.

[shape55]

Hmm, there must be something else b/c all the other books I converted were borrowed as well. This error happens only with the books from this specific series. One thing I noticed that all of these had in common was a bunch of azw.res files in the Kindle book folders, where all the other borrowed books that converted successfully had only one or none of this file.

[ElleKayEm]

Were the other ones KFX format like this?

[shape55]

Yes, all the Kindle books were in AZW format. Normally, I can drag & drop the .azw file into Calibre and it converts it with no error. All but the ones from this series.

[j-howell]

That error has nothing to do with DRM removal. It happens because Amazon Original Stories use use a KFX feature called Illustrated Layout that is not currently supported by the KFX Input plugin for calibre.

[shape55]

Ok, thanks. So I assume there is no way to convert them at this point? And is this a well known limitation or should I post a thread about it on the Calibre forum?

[j-howell]

You can wait for the next release of the KFX Input plugin or you can obtain the book in a format other then KFX using one of the methods in this thread: Dealing with Kindle for PC/Mac 1.19 (and later) and KFX in calibre

[shape55]

Thank you. I actually bookmarked that link just last weekend.

[noDRM]

I thought that had been removed from this version of DeDRM, but maybe not.

It has. That message is just a warning that the book you're trying to import is not a bought book, but it no longer has any impact on whether the plugin continues importing the book or not. That's why it says "Continuing ..." at the end of the warning.

Going to close this issue as this is a KFX-Input-related bug and nothing in the DeDRM plugin.