Morris was less concerned about security or startling his neighbors when hosting in suburban Lexington. “My neighbors wouldn’t have the slightest idea in the world who Bulger and Flemmi are.” Even so, some caution was always in order. “They came after hours of darkness. Sometimes they’d pull into the garage. They were always wearing hats.”
Morris did, however, startle his wife, Rebecca. She was not happy about having reputed killers as house guests. The marriage was already strained, and the couple fought. In all his FBI years Morris had never done anything like this. Maybe he’d brought work home with him, but never two actual gangsters. Bulger and Flemmi now knew where he lived, now knew his family, could wonder if Morris made a practice of hosting informants, and, to discover their identities, might consider staking out the Morris home. To Rebecca Morris, the whole setup was just plain crazy. But John Morris prevailed, arguing with his wife about the necessity of this extraordinary move, about how special Bulger and Flemmi were. He would concede to his wife they were “bad guys,” but dinner was “necessary to inspire their trust.”
It was all part of the inflation of Bulger and Flemmi. Morris was not surprised that his wife did not fully appreciate the unique deal he and Connolly had with Bulger and Flemmi. After all, she could not appreciate the continued blossoming of the intimacy the group had going, as it flowed from dinner parties to gifts. During the early 1980s the agents and informants began giving each other presents—at holidays, to mark special occasions, or simply because they were moved to give. Rebecca, John probably thought, was simply missing the obvious.
CONNOLLY served as gift coordinator, bearing presents to the agents from the gangsters and vice versa. Gianturco got a black leather briefcase, a glass decorative statue, and a bottle of cognac. The second time Bulger came to his house for dinner, recalled Gianturco, he “brought some wineglasses. I think the ones I had were the $I.25 Stop & Shop’s. He brought a better set of wineglasses the next time. Usually Mr. Bulger would bring a bottle of wine or a bottle of champagne when he came up for dinner.”
Gianturco happily reciprocated. While window-shopping during a trip to San Francisco, he spotted a belt buckle with an engraving of Alcatraz and thought of Whitey Bulger. He bought the buckle and then gave it to Connolly to give to Bulger. Bulger liked it and began wearing it. Connolly and Bulger, meanwhile, also exchanged books and wine, and Bulger once presented his handler with an engraved hunting knife.
“I received a sweatshirt from Nick Gianturco,” Flemmi recalled. “I received a book from John Connolly.” Morris, he said, once gave him a painting of Korea by a Korean artist. “It was a nice painting.” Said Morris: “I had picked it up in the army. I had served in Korea, and he had served in Korea, and I gave him that painting.”
Bulger noticed that the dinner table at Morris’s home lacked a bucket to keep wine chilled, so he surprised Morris with a gift of a silver wine bucket. The ornate gift infuriated Morris’s wife and sparked another round of marital grief. She didn’t want Bulger’s largesse and told her husband not to accept it. But Morris did, rationalizing again the need to maintain Bulger’s trust. Rebecca Morris banned the bucket from their home, and eventually John Morris, without ever telling Bulger, quietly threw it out.
Bulger and Flemmi continued to ply Morris with fancy wine—here and there a $25 or $30 bottle of French bordeaux. “I don’t think that I articulated a specific interest in it,” said Morris. “I think that it evolved, and I believe it evolved from the standpoint where they first brought wine. I believe conversation flowed from that as to my interest in wine.”
The two crime bosses even arranged once for a special delivery to Morris at the FBI office in Government Center in Boston. “Connolly gave it to me,” recalled Morris. “He said that he had something for me from these guys.” Morris was instructed to go to Connolly’s car in the parking garage. “I went down to the basement of the federal building, opened his trunk, and there was a case of wine.”
It was as if the gangsters were probing Morris’s weak spot. He’d showed himself capable of losing it at the Colonnade Hotel. Indeed, Flemmi had kept the audiotape that Morris left behind that night as a souvenir. And even though Morris knew full well that the growing intimacy and gift-giving were clearly wrong, he couldn’t stop himself. It was as if he got a charge out of the bizarre alliance with Bulger and Flemmi. With a little alcohol, it all went down even more smoothly. Morris liked the two gangsters. He liked Connolly. They all seemed part of an important secret.
In early June 1982 Morris left Boston to attend a two-week training session in Glynco, Georgia, at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center. Sarhatt had approved the trip, as did the Boston office’s assistant special agent in charge, Bob Fitzpatrick. Morris was enrolled in a program entitled “Narcotics Specialization Training.” Even though another federal agency, the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA), already specialized in targeting drug traffickers, the FBI during the early 1980s was looking to enhance its own drug enforcement capabilities. Immediately Morris missed his girlfriend Debbie Noseworthy, and once in Georgia he got an idea.
“I called Connolly,” said Morris, and he reminded Connolly of the offer Bulger and Flemmi had made: if he ever needed anything, just let them know. “So I asked Connolly: ‘Do you think they could arrange for an airline ticket?’
“He said, ‘Yeah.’”
John Connolly had taken Morris’s call at the Organized Crime Squad. Debbie was seated nearby at her desk right outside Morris’s office. She could only wonder what Connolly and her boyfriend were discussing. Then Connolly hung up and left. He returned later, and he walked up to Debbie Noseworthy holding an envelope that he then gave to the FBI secretary.
“He said that John wanted me to have this,” she recalled. “I asked what it was, and he said, ‘Well, look at it.’” Debbie opened the plain white envelope and counted $1,000 in cash. She was startled and asked where the money had come from. Using a cover story that he and Morris had concocted, Connolly explained that her boyfriend had been saving up money and hiding it in his desk for an occasion just like this one. Morris, said Connolly, wanted her to take the money and fly down to see him in Georgia.
Debbie had not seen Connolly enter Morris’s office and go through the squad supervisor’s desk. She had been in her boss’s desk many times before and had never seen the money. But she wasn’t about to second-guess her good fortune. She was thrilled. Connolly, Debbie recalled, then said to her, “Isn’t that nice that you’re going to get to go?” Debbie arranged hastily to take a few vacation days. She rushed out and bought a ticket and then caught a departing flight from Logan Airport. Thanks to Connolly and Bulger, the couple were soon romancing in Georgia.