Removal

by Murphy, Peter

  ‘That’s a no-brainer, Harold,’ Mary replied emphatically. ‘Of course we publish. But I want to take the weekend to think through how to actually write it.’

  ‘The owners and the lawyers have something to say about this,’ Philby said. ‘So far, you’re the only one to make the connection between Hamid Marfrela and Oregon. That’s something the Committee might want to investigate if we tip them off about it.’

  Mary turned to face the Editor.

  ‘I don’t know why we wouldn’t publish. It’s a legitimate story.’

  ‘It is.’ Philby agreed. ‘And, as far as I can see, the President is buried up to his neck in this mess. Still, it’s quite a rock to throw at him.’

  ‘We’re not throwing rocks.’ Mary protested. ‘And, if we don’t publish, it’s only a matter of time before someone else does. The competition can’t be more than a couple of steps behind us. I want to be first, Harold. This is my story.’

  ‘I understand that, Mary,’ Philby said, walking over to the window and looking out at the sodium lights which illuminated night-time Washington. ‘And I enjoy a scoop as much as anyone else in our business. But this is going to cause major shock waves. Who knows what might happen? In its own way, it may turn out to be as momentous as Watergate.’

  He turned back towards Mary.

  ‘I was the office boy when that broke,’ he said with a smile. ‘I’d been with the Post less than a month. It was an incredible introduction to journalism, Mary. Woodward and Bernstein burning up the front pages, bringing down the Administration, and risking bringing the Post down with it. Everyone, from Katharine Graham down, running around, holding conspiratorial meetings behind closed doors all day and all night.’

  Mary was smiling broadly.

  ‘It must have been fantastic,’ she said.

  ‘It was. Of course, I wasn’t in on the big secrets. I was just a kid. I made the coffee and tried to listen through doors. But I do remember the atmosphere in this place, all the coming and going, the air of conspiracy. And I remember a lot of talk at that time about what would happen if the story didn’t fly. The conventional wisdom was that it would be the end of the Post.’

  Mary nodded thoughtfully.

  ‘I could see that happening with this story. But this time, it would be on my watch. If we’re wrong, Wade will eat us for lunch.’

  Mary got up and walked over to join Philby at the window without her shoes, which she had abandoned some hours before.

  ‘Harold, Wade isn’t in any position to eat anyone for lunch. The Committee has him nailed. The only question is what they decide to do with the information. All we’re doing is putting one of the last pieces of the puzzle in place, a piece which the Committee apparently isn’t aware of.’

  ‘They’ll be aware of it when we publish. And you may be their next star witness.’

  ‘Fine with me. The story is solid, Harold. We have paperwork to back it up every inch of the way.’

  ‘What about your source?’

  ‘I’ll protect him, of course. But I don’t see that as a problem. He needn’t come into it. We can make our case with the research we’ve done ourselves.’

  Philby nodded thoughtfully and turned back to the window.

  ‘What about Irene?’

  ‘I’m going to credit her with an assist,’ Mary smiled, ‘in addition to her A-plus.’

  ‘You’re putting her on the byline? That’s generous.’ Philby observed.

  ‘It’s deserved. She found the Western Geophysical material, and she worked her tail off on Marfrela. I think we ought to take a serious look at her when she gets out of school.’

  ‘I have no problem with that. But I’m concerned. Are you sure she’s not vulnerable…, she’s not…?’

  ‘My source? No way, Harold. She has no idea who he is. Come on, you know me better than that.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but in this situation I’m paranoid. I admit it. We can’t leave any hostages to fortune here, Mary.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Mary said, ‘and we’re not going to.’

  For some time, they both stared out of the window in silence.

  ‘So, have you thought what you’re going to recommend?’ Mary asked.

  ‘Have you ever been to Portugal?’ Philby asked in turn.

  ‘Portugal? No. Never. Why?’

  ‘It’s where Becky and I plan to retire. Beautiful country. The people are wonderful, the food is out of this world. Paradise on earth. A simpler way of life.’

  Mary smiled. ‘I didn’t know you were planning to retire.’

  Philby returned the smile. ‘I may have to. We publish on Monday.’

  Mary’s jaw dropped open. For a moment she could not speak.

  ‘Monday? But…’

  ‘But what? I thought you wanted to go ahead.’

  ‘Well… yes… yes, I do. But… Harold, you old fox, you’ve already done it, haven’t you? You’ve already run this by the owners without telling me?’

  Philby could not resist a broad smile.

  ‘Guilty, Your Honor.’

  ‘You swine,’ Mary grinned. ‘Why didn’t you say something?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Philby replied. ‘It was their preference. They wanted to keep quiet about it. But only until tonight. They wanted to wait and see what emerged in the Committee today. But they said it was up to me. If the Oregon story didn’t come out, I should feel free to bring it out. It’s to be my decision, they said. By which they meant, of course, that my head is on the chopping block if it goes south.’

  Mary sat back down at the conference table, trying to catch her breath.

  ‘Harold, we have to give the White House time to respond.’

  Philby’s eyes had hardened.

  ‘I’ll call Martha tomorrow,’ he said with a shrug. ‘It won’t do them any harm to put in a little overtime over the weekend. We know what they’re going to say in any case.’

  Mary raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Mary, the White House has been screwing around with us ever since this thing started. And not just with us, but with the American people. One lie after another. It’s inexcusable. I don’t blame Martha. I think this is coming directly from His Majesty. But enough is enough. We’re going to bring this out into the open, and let the chips fall where they may. Polish your story, Mary. Now, let’s get out of here before I change my mind.’

  33

  WITHOUT MAKE-UP, her hair all over the place, Kelly ran at full speed from the elevator into Ted Lazenby’s office. She had driven desperately from her home to the Hoover Building in what should have been an impossibly short time, ignoring red lights and speed limits, but mercifully attracting no attention from the traffic cops. It was six o’clock on a cold, rainy Monday morning, and Lazenby was already at his desk, the telephone in his hand. His jacket was off, and his tie was hanging loosely around his neck. He was on hold.

  ‘Did you see…?’ Kelly began.

  ‘Yes. I saw it. I’m on the line to the Portland field office now. They’re trying to track Phil down. They’re not sure where he is.’

  ‘Sir, what happened?’

  ‘That bastard, Moberley. That fucking bastard. He gave me his fucking word. I’m going to crucify the son-of-a-bitch.’

  Lazenby shook his head violently, and held out the phone.

  ‘Take over this line for me. It’s our people in Oregon. I have another call to make.’

  Kelly studied the Director’s face. She had never seen him so angry. He was pale and tense and, when he spoke, he almost spat out the words. Throwing her briefcase to the floor, she took the telephone from his hand and sat down at his desk, while Lazenby strode to a table and picked up another phone. He consulted a private directory and quickly dialed a number. Someone answered.

  ‘Mrs. Moberley? This is Ted Lazenby… Lazenby… I’m the Director of the FBI… I’m fine, thank you. Is your husband there?… Well, would you get him for me, please?… He’s doing what?… Ma’am, I frankly don’t give a damn what he’s doing.
This is an emergency. Please get him now… Thank you.’

  Half a minute elapsed. Kelly’s line remained quiet.

  ‘Vernon? What in the hell do you think you’re doing? Do you have any idea what this could mean?…’

  An agent from the Portland field office came on the line, and Kelly heard no more of Lazenby’s verbal assault on the Chairman of the House Intelligence Committee.

  ‘Director…?’

  ‘Mike? It’s me, Kelly. The Director’s on another call. What gives?’

  Mike sighed into the telephone.

  ‘No luck, Kelly. We’ve been trying to reach Phil to warn him about the Post breaking the story. But it seems he spent the weekend inside the compound, and he hasn’t come out. Before he went in, he told us he was scheduled to be there through Thursday, and there’s no way to reach him while he’s inside.’

  ‘Fuck,’ Kelly said.

  ‘We’re hoping Phil will pick up the story himself. He says they’re pretty dedicated to keeping up with the news in there. He has access to all the net sources, plus CNN and the main papers. Of course, so does everyone else in there. Hopefully, Phil will realize what’s going on and find a way to get himself out of there before they have time to figure it out.’

  ‘God, I hope you’re right,’ Kelly replied.

  ‘Kelly, how did this happen? I thought the Oregon connection was supposed to be under wraps.’

  ‘So did we. We don’t know yet, Mike. The Director’s talking to the Chairman now. Look, keep trying, and let me know the moment you hear anything, OK?’

  ‘Will do.’

  Mike hung up. Kelly turned her attention back to Lazenby, who was still in full flow.

  ‘Well, the first thing you can do is drag Mary Sullivan’s ass in front of your Committee in closed session and make her tell you where she got the story… What?… I don’t give a rat’s ass about protecting her sources. You didn’t have any problem throwing a Secret Service Agent in jail. Do the same with her… I don’t want to hear it, Vernon. If any harm comes of this, heads will roll. You have no idea what I might do. Trust me.’

  Without another word, Lazenby slammed down the receiver and cut off the call. He drew both hands through his hair, and looked questioningly at Kelly. She shook her head.

  ‘Nothing. He’s in the compound, and they have no way to talk to him while he’s in. Unless he realizes the danger, he’ll be there until Thursday.’

  ‘Thursday? Jesus Christ. That gives them four days to…’

  ‘Phil’s a smart agent. And we’ve always told him to run if there was any sign of his cover being blown. He just has to find a way out.’

  ‘Jesus Christ.’

  ‘What did the Chairman say?’

  Lazenby pursed his lips, the fury still consuming him.

  ‘He says the leak didn’t come from the Committee, but he’ll look into it, just in case.’

  ‘And you don’t believe him?’

  ‘Well, where the fuck else could it have come from?’ Lazenby demanded.

  ‘I don’t know. But I can’t see what reason there would be for anyone on the Committee to leak it. Who else knew about it?’

  Lazenby made a huge effort to calm himself. He walked over to his coffee machine and poured two cups. They both sat down at his desk and Lazenby thought for a while.

  ‘According to Vernon, only his senior aide plus, of course, the entire intelligence community. It’s my fault, Kelly. I should have pulled Phil out. I should have known there was no way to keep the lid on it.’

  Kelly shook her head.

  ‘Director, there was no way to anticipate this. The intelligence people have no interest in blowing our cover. We had every reason to think they would give us notice if anyone was going to get into it.’

  ‘Then, where did it come from, Kelly?’

  ‘I don’t know. It doesn’t mention our involvement. All it does is…’

  ‘All it does is cut a trail a mile wide from Hamid Marfrela to Middle and Near East, to the Sons of the Flag, to the President.’

  ‘Yes, Sir. All I’m saying is that Mary Sullivan probably sees this as an official corruption story. There’s no reason to think she has any angle involving the Bureau. If she does, she hasn’t said anything. She hasn’t asked us to comment.’

  ‘I’ve a good mind to pull her in for questioning.’

  ‘I can’t advise that, Director.’

  For the first time that morning, Lazenby gave the hint of a smile.

  ‘I guess you’re right.’

  ‘Not that it wouldn’t be satisfying,’ Kelly said. ‘Do you want me to fly out to Oregon? Maybe there’s something I can do…’

  ‘No. The office there can do whatever there is to do. I need you here. Stay by the phone, Kelly. Let’s hope for some good news.’

  34

  ‘I don’t want to go through it again,’ the President shouted. ‘I’ve already told you I don’t know anything about these people or what they do. I don’t know anything about any goddamned Hamid whatever-his-name-is.’

  Martha Graylor reached into her purse and extracted her fifth and sixth aspirin tablets of the morning. Mutely, she looked across at Ellen Trevathan for help. They were the only three people in the Oval Office. The President had cancelled his press conference and his other engagements for the morning. Martha was trying to put together a press release, but her efforts to find out what the President wanted to say had achieved little except to provoke him to anger. Sensing Martha’s desperation, Ellen nodded her understanding, and decided to try her own hand.

  ‘Steve, I know this is frustrating for you. But we have to give them some kind of answer. This story has gone way beyond whether or not you had an affair with Lucia Benoni, which is all the Committee has really proved so far. This story links you directly to some Lebanese involvement with the Sons of the Flag. The implications are that you were doing some kind of deal under the counter on the foreign policy front in return for contributions, or being set up with Lucia, or God knows what. Maybe worse than that, maybe fooling around with national security. We can’t just say we don’t know anything.’

  ‘Those bastards at the Post ambushed me. Ambushed me in broad daylight. They call Martha at home on a Saturday morning, for God’s sake. What sort of response are we supposed to make to that?’

  ‘I agree,’ the Vice President replied. ‘It was an ambush. And no one can criticize you for putting up the shutters over the weekend. But now, we have to do more.’

  Wade shook his head, and continued pacing up and down behind his desk.

  Martha picked up the Post. Her hand was shaking.

  ‘Let’s try and make sense of this, Mr. President,’ she suggested tentatively. ‘First of all, are you sure you have never heard of these Western Geophysical people?’

  ‘No,’ Wade said. ‘I have not.’

  ‘Because, apparently, they’ve been making some pretty hefty contributions to the Party.’

  ‘Many people make hefty contributions to the Party, Martha. That’s not my department. I am the President of the United States. I don’t personally solicit every contribution that comes in to every campaign. Especially not from the White House. In case you didn’t know, that would be illegal.’

  ‘Take it easy, Steve,’ Ellen said quietly.

  ‘I’m trying. But this is driving me crazy… All right, Martha, I’m sorry. Next question.’

  Martha ran her hand across her brow. Her head was still pounding. She could hardly focus on the newspaper any more.

  ‘What about the Middle and Near East Company, Mr. President? They seem to be one of the main supporters of Western Geophysical. They are also the link to Hamid Marfrela. He was one of their directors.’

  ‘No. Nothing there either.’

  Martha shook her head.

  ‘Let me try,’ Ellen said, after a few moments of silence. ‘Steve, when you and Lucia talked, would she ever speak about Lebanon, or anything political, for that matter?’

  Wade paused in
his pacing.

  ‘Look, I can’t…’

  ‘Steve, please, that’s water under the bridge. The whole world knows you were sleeping with her. Frankly, that hardly matters any more. So, just cast your mind back and tell me what you used to talk about.’

  For a long time, the President gazed, apparently absently, out of the window. Finally, he turned back towards Ellen.

  ‘I never talked about politics with her. Never. I never discussed my work. She always seemed more interested in talking about the plays she saw in New York, or the people she met at parties, or where she went shopping in Paris or Milan. It was always just light conversation. That’s why it was fun to be with her. I live politics every hour of every day. It was good to get away from it for a while.’

  ‘Did she ever talk about herself, where she came from, her family, anything like that?’

  Wade considered the question.

  ‘Yes. She did talk about her life growing up, how hard it was constantly moving around, never settling down. She used to say she was a gypsy at heart.’

  ‘But she didn’t go on to say how hard life might be for people in Lebanon generally? She wasn’t trying to get your sympathy for them, maybe?’

  ‘Not as far as I could tell. If she was, she didn’t do a very good job of it.’

  ‘And she never, even indirectly, tried to talk about your foreign policy. Think, Steve, please.’

  Wade exhaled audibly.

  ‘No. I never recall anything like that coming up.’

  ‘OK. How did you first meet?’

  Wade walked back to his desk and sat down heavily.

  ‘Oh, God. It was at some function here. I don’t even remember what function. She was obviously trying to get me to notice her. I got her number and invited her here while Julia was away some place.’

  ‘What was her attitude at that time?’

  The President laughed.

  ‘We both knew what it was about. I think she was naked within five minutes of walking in the door. It was about sex, from first to last. All this other stuff… I have no idea where that came from.’

  Ellen sat back in her chair. ‘Bottom line, you were set up,’ she said.