Shadow of Power Free with Bonus Material

by Steve Martini

  “And have these words been removed from the Constitution?” Scarborough puts a hand up to his ear and listens.

  Some in the audience shout, “NO!”

  “That’s right. The language is still there, a monument to the guile and craftiness of the slave owners who crafted our Constitution.

  “Read Article One, Section Two, the insidious three-fifths clause, and tell me what it means or, more important, WHY IT IS STILL THERE. The continued appearance of these words is a national offense, an insult to every African American walking on this continent.

  “Historians know what it means, because they study it. Lawyers know what it means. The federal courts know what it means, because they enforced it. Congress knows what it means, because they passed the enabling statutes that allowed the institution of slavery to function. And Congress has done nothing in more than a hundred and fifty years, since the Civil War and the repeal of slavery by the Thirteenth Amendment, to remove the offending words from the Constitution. Members of Congress sit there and complain about the Dixie flag, and the states that fly it, while they have this stink on their own hands,” says Scarborough. He allows the fiery oratory to settle on the audience.

  “In simple terms the three-fifths clause identifies all the classes of people in the United States at the time of its founding. They needed this for purposes of taxation and apportionment, the formula to determine the number of representatives each state would get in the new Congress.

  “The clause identifies ‘free persons.’

  “It identifies ‘Indians.’

  “It identifies ‘those bound to service for a term of years,’ indentured servants and debtors working off their debts.

  “And then, last and certainly least, the clause identifies ‘three-fifths of all other persons’ then remaining in the new United States of America.”

  Scarborough allows this to settle for a moment.

  “Now, who do you think these ‘other persons’ were? Who could they so conveniently and easily carve up into three-fifths of a human being, like a turkey on a platter?

  “Who could it possibly be that these enlightened men of the founding generation were talking about?”

  “African slaves!” The words are shouted by someone out in the audience.

  “That’s right, African slaves. ‘Other people’ who weren’t treated as people at all, because they were owned by white Americans as property, traded and sold like animals. They were being counted as three-fifths of a human being not so that they could vote for members of Congress but so that their owners, their white masters, could have the power of this franchise added to their own. White slave owners could increase the power of their own vote by buying more slaves. This was the incentive, the inducement carved into the cornerstone of the Constitution at the nation’s founding—AND THESE WORDS ARE STILL THERE!” Scarborough pounds on the podium with this, his theme. “Read the book,” he says.

  The chant of “Take it out…Take it out…Take it out” starts to rumble through the audience.

  He may be a writer, but Scarborough knows how to work an audience. He is a firebrand. Whether you like him or not, I would be willing to take bets that at this moment he is not pretending. This is an issue in which he clearly believes. He allows the chant to continue for twenty or thirty seconds before he cuts it off with his hands in the air.

  “Read Article One, Section Nine, of the Constitution, where it says, ‘The migration or importation of SUCH PERSONS’”—he holds up his hand and shakes his finger to emphasize the words—“would not be prohibited by Congress but by the various states then existing. Were they talking about people who wanted to migrate here from Norway or France? NO! So who were they talking about?”

  “African slaves!” Now it comes back automatically from the audience, more voices and much louder.

  “Yes! They were talking about African slaves, using nice words like ‘imported,’ as if they were fine wine or cheese—human beings dragged here in chains, all at the will of the various states.

  “Do you believe that these words should be removed from the Constitution and thrown into the dustbin of history?”

  “YES!” A crushing chorus from the audience.

  “WHEN?”

  “NOW!” This is even louder. The speakers from the set we are watching vibrate under the strain.

  “Everywhere you look, they concealed the dirty deal by avoiding the words. They wanted to traffic in SLAVES, all right, but they certainly didn’t want to say it, not so that the whole world and posterity would see it in print. And if the avoidance of language is not evidence of their guilt, then I will produce it,” he says.

  “The founders will tell you that they tried to end slavery but they were not able. STICK AROUND,” bellows Scarborough, “because I will tell you the truth. The sequel to this book”—he holds up Perpetual Slaves—“Volume Two, will end the myth of American history once and for all. I will tell you what really happened, why they avoided the words. What propelled their fear, their trepidation? You won’t find it in any history book,” he says. “So don’t bother looking.

  “We are talking about a continuing national insult to more than twelve percent of the nation’s population, more than thirty-five million people, and about the absolute stone silence of the country’s leaders on this point. They run for office. They’re out there now on the stump, but ask them about this and they will dodge and weave and avoid the question. They will tell you that the Constitution is the province of the Supreme Court. They will tell you anything that avoids a commitment to take the words out—to remove the offending language.”

  The chorus of “Take it out” starts again.

  “Some of them will tell you, ‘NO, leave it there as a historic relic, as a reminder of what white masters did to their black slaves.’ But the permanent and enduring stigma of these words, the offense that they carry, is deep!” says Scarborough.

  “Ask yourselves…ask yourselves why these ploys on language, these aging, offensive euphemisms, have not been removed? They will pull down the Confederate flag, but they won’t remove this from your own Constitution? It says ‘We the People,’ but the words remain offensive,” he says.

  The chant starts up again, but Scarborough shouts over the top of it.

  “Can they sweep it under the table as the founders did?”

  “NO!” The entire audience is on its feet now, hands cupped to mouths, clenched fists pumping on the ends of raised arms.

  “Because I will tell you something more. I will give you another document, a document that the world has never seen, a secret letter written in the hand not of one of the founders but the founder, confirming the darkest deal in American history. If you want to see the original sin of slavery unmasked at its inception, evidenced in the handwritten words of God himself, then wait for the sequel,” says Scarborough.

  Tumultuous cheers, diagonal blue lines across the screen, as the video ends.

  Less than twenty-four hours after Scarborough’s speech, a rally in downtown Chicago, demanding action to remove the words of slavery from the Constitution, turned violent when police moved in and clashed with demonstrators.

  The next day the national media picked up snippets of Scarborough’s speech, and like a trail of gunpowder, flashes of violent confrontation followed his book tour across the country as sales of the book exploded.

  “My question is, how did the guy live so long?” says Harry. “If I talked like that, I’d have blown a fuse years ago. And how did he get so close to the Supreme Court?”

  “Did he?”

  “That’s certainly the image he projected,” says Harry. “The ultimate in-the-know Court watcher.”

  “Maybe it was just that, an image,” I tell him.

  Scarborough had argued a single case before the Supreme Court almost ten years ago now and won, not a landmark decision by any stretch. He had coupled this with an uncanny ability to hang on the social fringes of the Court and get his picture taken.


  It was rumored in his earlier career that he coveted a spot on the Court for himself. However, given the passion of his politics and its public airing, he had little chance of being nominated and none whatever of being confirmed in the Senate. Some might argue that bitterness over this only drove him to further excess.

  Harry and I look through a number of film clips, mostly interviews of Scarborough on his most recent book tour. The screen flickers between clips, and another face appears, a different venue this time.

  “This is what I was telling you about,” says Harry. “This is Scarborough’s literary agent.” Harry looks at his notes. “Guy named Richard Bonguard.”

  The other image on the screen is familiar to anyone who has ever turned on a television set, Jay Leno.

  “This was two days after the murder,” says Harry. “Scarborough was supposed to appear with Leno that night, the night he was killed. From what I was told, the agent filled in.”

  The interview is somber, not the usual fare for Leno. There is a text bar under the picture, AUTHOR MURDERED.

  Leno: “So you two guys knew each other a long time? Not just an agent, you were his friend, right?”

  Bonguard: “That’s right.”

  Leno: “You have our sympathy. We really appreciate you taking the time to come in here and talk with us. It can’t be easy. It’s absolutely shocking. I can’t even imagine. We were expecting to see Mr. Scarborough as a guest here on the air that day, the day he was killed. You can imagine the surprise when we heard the news. Do the police have any idea who might have done it?”

  Bonguard: “Right now, as you can imagine, everything is a bit sketchy. From what I understand the cops are still in the hotel room as we speak, looking for evidence. They’re being very careful. I don’t think anybody knows exactly what happened or why, at least not yet.”

  Leno: “Except for the murderer.”

  Bonguard: “Well, yes.”

  Leno: “It’s just crazy. Do you have any idea why he might have been killed? Do you think it had to do with the book?”

  The host props up a copy of Scarborough’s book on the desk as the camera focuses in. Perpetual Slaves: The Branding of America’s Black Race. The camera cuts to the author’s photograph from the book’s dust cover.

  Bonguard: “Certainly I think the police have got to be looking at that possibility. There had been a great deal of controversy over the work. I know that Terry had received death threats in the mail.”

  Leno: “Really?”

  Bonguard: “Oh, yes. Anytime you write a book that involves politics or social controversy, you’re bound to get some hate mail. But in this case it was more than usual, mostly anonymous.”

  Leno: “Those would have been turned over to the police, right?”

  Bonguard: “Oh, I’m sure. Most of them were in the hands of the publisher. But they would be turned over, if they haven’t already been.”

  Leno: “It’s certainly a very important book. I read it last week before all this happened, and it’s stunning. I mean, I’m not a lawyer, but I never realized that the language of slavery was still right there in the Constitution. I’m sure most Americans don’t know that. I’m surprised that somebody hadn’t brought this to public attention before this.”

  Bonguard: “Terry thought the same thing. He was surprised that it had never been exposed in this way. Of course, that’s only part of it….”

  “This is the good part,” says Harry. “Listen to this.”

  Bonguard: “There was more. He was going to do another book based on a historic document that went right to the core of the controversy over slavery. He didn’t write about it in this book because he was planning a follow-up, a sequel. He was preparing to expose some kind of deal that was cut at the time the Constitution was first written. According to what Terry told me, it involved slavery and a number of prominent historic figures, men who were involved in crafting the Constitution.”

  Leno: “A deal? What kind of deal?”

  Bonguard: “That, I don’t know. That’s why this letter was so important.”

  Leno: “Do we know who wrote this letter?”

  Bonguard: “Well, I don’t know that I can say too much more at this time—other than to say that the letter was important to an understanding of the history of slavery in America.”

  Leno: “Well, that would be pretty important. How did your client, Mr. Scarborough, get this letter?”

  Bonguard: “Again, I can’t say.”

  Leno: “Do you have this letter?”

  Bonguard: “No. In fact, I’ve not seen it. Terry referred to it several times in conversations that we had. According to what I understand, he had it in his possession, or at least a copy.”

  Leno: “He had it with him when he was killed?”

  Bonguard: “I don’t know.”

  Leno: “So I assume the police must have it now?”

  Bonguard: “I don’t know.”

  “Wow.” Leno turns away from his guest to look directly at the camera. “Well, you heard it here first, folks. A real bona fide murder mystery. You will keep us informed?”

  “Absolutely,” says Bonguard.

  Leno rises from his chair and shakes Bonguard’s hand. “We’ll have to have you back.” There are a few muddled words exchanged between the two of them. The audience begins to applaud as the screen flickers and then goes dark.

  “That’s everything,” says Harry.

  “What about the letter?” I ask. “It sounds like the same thing Scarborough was talking about in his speech—the promise to deliver in the next book, the fiery rhetoric of some big secret.”

  “The cops don’t have it,” says Harry. “No record of it listed in any of the materials seized from the hotel room or from Scarborough’s apartment in D.C.”

  “Have the cops questioned this guy Mr. Bonguard?”

  “More than that,” says Harry. He flips me two pages stapled together, what appear to be photocopies of some handwritten notes. “San Diego homicide sent a detective back to interview him, and the detective took notes. They never even typed them up, just ran copies out of his notebook and threw them in the pile with the other items from our first discovery request. Obviously they must have thought that it wasn’t very important. Otherwise they would have never taken notes, or sanitized them so we wouldn’t see them.”

  Interview: Date: 7-26

  (V)ictim: T. Scarborough

  (S)ubject: R. Bonguard

  “Second page,” says Harry. He reaches across the table and points with his pen. “Right here.”

  S. told detective has no idea who might have killed V. Much hate mail following book. Racial orientation. Some death threats. Most are anonymous. Talk to publisher. Check to see if suspect is on record writing. See if any e-mails.

  S. mentioned letter…( J letter). Unclear. S. says J letter impetus for entire book ‘Perpetual Slaves.’ S. says J letter what prompted V. to write book in first place. S. asked if we had letter. S. no idea of location of letter, never saw it.

  “Am I understanding this? Bonguard is telling them that without this letter, the J letter, Scarborough would never have written Perpetual Slaves?”

  “That’s what the cop’s notes seem to say,” says Harry.

  “I don’t get it. The book made a fortune. There’s nothing about any letter in it, and yet according to Bonguard the letter is what drove the book?” I look at Harry.

  “And Scarborough threatens to unveil the letter in the next book. The one he’ll never write,” says Harry. “And if the cops didn’t find this letter, could be that whoever killed Scarborough took it.”

  “Why didn’t we see more in the press on this following the Leno show? Bonguard talked about the letter there.”

  “Because by then the cops had already arrested our man, that afternoon, as Bonguard was sitting in the studio taping the show. The arrest took the edge off of everything else. The media wasn’t interested in any sideshow. The cops had their man. That’s probably why the
police never followed up on any of this. Since they didn’t find the letter on Arnsberg or in his apartment, to them it’s irrelevant,” says Harry.

  Certainly it didn’t fit the theory of the state’s case. “Get everything you can on this letter, who wrote it, when, its contents. Get a copy if you can. And find out if Scarborough made any notes referencing it. We’ll need to lay a foundation if we want to get it into evidence.”

  “You’re thinking what I am,” says Harry. “Historic letter, probably a collector’s item. If so, it might have been worth a bundle.”

  Like every good defense lawyer, Harry is centering on plausible alternative theories for murder.

  “One thing is for sure. Our guy wasn’t found with any letter when they arrested him. Fact is, I doubt if he can read,” says Harry. “We might want to talk to an expert, find out what something like that might be worth if it were sold. The letter, I mean.”

  Right behind passion, money is always the easiest motive to peddle before a jury when it comes to murder.

  “It’s possible. It’s also possible somebody didn’t want the letter to see the light of day, if, as they both claim, this letter is a smoking gun giving rise to slavery in the land of the free.”

  “You think somebody would kill to keep from tarnishing a burnished image?” asks Harry.

  “I don’t know, but I’m not closing off any avenues at the moment.”

  Harry is jotting notes, a small pad on the table in front of him.

  “You’d have to think that if this letter exists and if it’s that significant, there would be some reference to it in other documents,” I say.

  There are voluminous treatises covering the correspondence between the framers. These include hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of footnotes, the Federalist Papers, followed by entire libraries of books written on the subject.