"I pledge total confidentiality concerning the ideas, concepts, programs, and developments of Team Hancock.

"I pledge I will not, under any circumstances, divulge any information or content within the Team Hancock documents which I have signed."

-- From the Team Hancock Pledge

Let's keep this just between us.

Intrigued by the business concept that attracted the interest of Family Court Judge Steven Jones, I drove to 9811 W. Charleston Blvd. Friday in search of the world headquarters of Team Hancock.

I thought I'd knock on the door of Suite 2101 and get a few straight answers from Team Hancock's founder and big-idea man, D. Victor Hancock. Alas, things were not as they appeared.

Instead of encountering an expansive, or even modest, office, I found that 9811 W. Charleston Blvd. was the address of a UPS Store. Team Hancock world headquarters was approximately the size of a mail slot.

Undaunted, I called Hancock seeking comment about his relationship with Jones, whose tumultuous personal life and controversial associations have begun to surface following his recent arrest on domestic battery charges. Hancock's attorney, Brent Bryson, returned the call and was kind enough to attempt to answer a few questions.

Hancock is a handful, to say the least.

A felon with a long history of perplexing business activity, he is the man behind the Team Hancock program. The fact a judge was at one time a business partner of a felon would be newsworthy were the jurist in question not Steve Jones, whose circle of acquaintances seems to get odder by the day.

I am interested in whether Judge Jones or other public officials have been trading on the image and credibility of their office for personal gain. His former brother-in-law Tom Cecrle, a felon with outstanding warrants, is caught up in a questionable land scheme that has separated investors from hundreds of thousands of dollars. One of those investors accuses Jones of being in on it, and other investors said they were in the judge's chambers when business was discussed.

Hancock is suspected of attempting to develop resort property in Baja and using the Team Hancock program to help dress up the development with credible professionals such as politicians, judges and attorneys.

Trying to sell someone with a pitch that starts, "I'm a convicted white-collar criminal, but I've changed my ways" would tend to frighten away all but the most robust prospective clients. But sprinkling a cocktail party with elected officials would soothe the skittish. That appears to be the underlying theme of Team Hancock.

Bryson differs with my cynical portrayal.

"I think Team Hancock is basically just a group of individuals that are consultants, is my understanding," Bryson said. "There's no business entity. There's no true organization. I think it's just a group that was put together by Mr. Hancock to advise him on various projects."

But that doesn't mean "team members" weren't promised a piece of the action -- far from it. Hancock's program outlines the percentages of profit sharing available to members. That sounds like business to me, or at least monkey business.

"I haven't represented him that long, but I'm not aware of any type of wrongful conduct that he or Judge Jones would be involved in," Bryson said.

That's a relief.

But in a world full of characters with colorful backgrounds, Hancock's activity isn't especially interesting. But if Judge Jones or other elected officials or public servants are on the "team" rainmaking for Hancock, that's another matter entirely.

Frankly, I'm fascinated by the secrecy surrounding Team Hancock. Membership documents I've obtained fill 36 pages and are jammed with confidentiality clauses and places for prospective participants to sign their way into the secret club. Membership even includes a logo, fancy pin and a secret pledge. What is this, a cross between Opus Dei and Century 21?

It's not exactly the stuff of "The Da Vinci Code," but Team Hancock's secretive nature is bound to raise suspicion. From the look of those documents, Hancock's felony status is also kept a secret.

Who knows. Maybe he wears a special pin.

It's a lot of secrecy for a supposed real estate deal in Baja.

But, just between us, maybe the idea was to protect the identities of any of the public officials and upstanding folks who agreed to shill for D. Victor Hancock.

John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call 383-0295.