How close were Barack Obama and Tony Rezko?

Obama's state Senate district contained a number of Rezmar properties, but as a legislator, he couldn't help the company with loans or inspection problems. Still, says Rezko's ex-employee, Rezko appreciated Obama's potential. And hobnobbing with politicians was a sign he'd made it in America.

"Occasionally, he would say to me, 'Can you believe this? You know where I came from,'" says the employee. "He was very humbled by it."

(Around the same time, Rezko was also funding the career of an ambitious young state legislator named Rod Blagojevich, who had been elected to the General Assembly with the help of his ward-boss father-in-law and was aiming for Congress. Over the years, Rezko would donate $117,652 to Blagojevich's campaigns. He was a smart investor in political futures: Blagojevich is now governor. Three of Rezko's associates were appointed to high-ranking positions in Blagojevich's administration. But Rezko's connection to the governor is the source of his current legal troubles: Rezko is going to trial on Feb. 25 on charges he demanded kickbacks from investment firms seeking money from the Illinois Teachers' Retirement Fund. His alleged co-conspirator, who has already pleaded guilty, is Republican fundraiser Stuart Levine. Rezko allegedly used his clout with the Blagojevich administration to help reappoint Levine to the board that controls the fund.)

Rezko was ecumenical in his largesse, doling out hundreds of thousands of dollars in political contributions. He served as an advisor to now-imprisoned Republican Gov. George Ryan, and co-chaired a reelection fundraiser for President George W. Bush. And, of course, he paid to have his photo taken with Bill and Hillary Clinton. (Chicago receiving lines can be so embarrassing: First lady Rosalynn Carter was once photographed with a precinct captain named John Wayne Gacy.)

It's clear that Rezko was always on the lookout for "a clout," Chicagoese for a political patron -- in Rezko's case, a patron who could give a Syrian immigrant the same opportunity to work the system as an Irish lawyer who'd gone to Catholic school with the mayor. In Obama's case, though, Rezko has asked for very little. He's only received one political favor, and it didn't benefit him financially: On Rezko's recommendation, the son of a campaign contributor served an internship in Obama's Senate office. It could be that Rezko was saving his chits until the senator achieved the one office unattainable to a machine pol.

Obama, on the other hand, seems to have derived some material benefit from his friendship with Rezko. During his first year in the Senate, flush with the book advance for "The Audacity of Hope," Obama and his wife decided to trade up from a condo to a bigger, more secure home in Kenwood, a South Side neighborhood of turreted, balconied piles popular with University of Chicago econ professors looking to blow their Nobel Prize loot. They found a $1.65 million house with four fireplaces, a wine cellar and a black wrought-iron fence. The doctor who lived there also owned the vacant lot next door and, although the properties were listed separately, wanted to sell both at the same time. Despite their new income, the Obamas could not have afforded both parcels. The Obamas closed on their house in June 2005. On the same day, Rezko's wife, Rita, purchased the vacant lot for $625,000. They later sold a portion of the lot to the Obamas, for $104,500, so the family could expand its yard. The Rezkos then paid $14,000 to build a fence along the property line.

The sale was brokered by real estate agent Donna Schwan, who'd known Rezko when he lived in the neighborhood. Asked who approached her about the house, Schwan told Salon, "I honestly don't remember. Tony Rezko lived across the street, so he'd been interested in the lot."

Last year, Rezko sold the vacant lot to his attorney, Michael Sreenan, who is now peddling it for $950,000. A "Land for Sale" sign rises above the fenced lot, which is hidden by fir trees. Schwan is handling that deal, too. Since Tuesday, when the property was featured in an NBC report, she's received more than 100 phone calls. Living next door to Obama is a great amenity, she insists. His house is protected by the Secret Service -- their SUVs idle in the street and under the basketball hoop in the driveway. "No Stopping/No Standing" signs bar visitors from parking out front, even though there's a synagogue directly across the street.

"You'd have the most secure house in Chicago," she says.

After the Chicago Tribune uncovered the land deal, Obama described Rezko as "a supporter of mine since my first race for state Senate" and a friend with whom he occasionally had lunch or dinner. Obama knew that Rezko was under grand jury investigation, but believed that "as long as I operated in an open, up-front fashion, and all the T's were crossed and I's were dotted, that it wouldn't be an issue."

James L. Merriner, an Illinois political expert who has conducted the only interview with Rezko since his indictment, says Obama has done "nothing illegal. It's just unsavory."

Obama knew about Rezko's legal problems, but Merriner believes he didn't think they would taint his Senator Galahad image.

"It goes back to when Obama's in the state Senate," Merriner says. "He had a real sense of personal mission. I think he thought he was just above it. He seemed to think he was on a plane above that."

If you've been to Chicago, you know it's a pretty flat place. And if you follow Chicago politics, you know that even the noblest politician can't remain chaste.

"The national media, they tend to overlook that Obama is a regular Cook County Democrat," Merriner says. "Maybe he's a cut above, but he's still an Illinois politician."

As long as Rezko was only under investigation, Obama was willing to do business with him. But then Rezko committed the fixer's biggest sin: He got indicted and got his name in the papers. After that, the friendship cooled. Obama has donated $157,835 in Rezko-linked contributions to charity and has called the real estate deal "boneheaded." But he still lives in the house. And he still has the power Rezko helped him attain.