The Man

by Irving Wallace

  He concentrated on the rest of his opening remarks, mostly official news announcements: he had met with the National Space Council and agreed that within three months the advanced Apollo rocket would catapult a team of three astronauts into orbit; he had given assurances to Brazil and India that A-11 flights would not be continued over their embattled borders; he was being kept closely informed of Secretary of State Eaton’s meetings with Russian Ambassador Rudenko, and could reveal now only that progress had been made, and it was likely that the interrupted Roemer Conference with the Premier of the Soviet Union would be resumed at another site, probably on the European Continent; he had sat in on one meeting with labor leaders, heads of the steel industry, and Secretary Barnes, and he was confident the impending strike would be averted; he had been informed of the exclusive story in the Chicago Tribune that Frank Valetti, second-in-command of the Turnerite Group, was a member of the Communist Party, and he had already urged the Justice Department to investigate; he had written a letter to Annapolis, appointing T. C.’s young son, Fred, to the Naval Academy when he became eligible.

  Dilman unwrapped a cigar, bit off one end, and lighted it. Although his opening remarks were filled with news, he knew that they would not be enough, and that Flannery and Talley knew it, too. Puffing the cigar, Dilman went down the possible questions that he might be asked, and then he examined the answers offered to him.

  Question: Will you sign the African Unity Pact Bill? Suggested Response: Yes, we affirm our determination to support free peoples and democratic ideals throughout the world, et cetera.

  Question: Can you discuss the subjects that you and Kwame Amboko of Baraza have covered, and relate them to the AUP and the recent Roemer Conference? Suggested Response: The meetings with President Amboko have been fruitful, and progress has been made in many areas. We will conclude our talks after tonight’s State Dinner. There will be a joint statement from President Amboko and myself upon his departure tomorrow.

  Question: Do you feel that, as a Negro, you can be more effective in making activist organizations like the Turnerites behave more moderately? Suggested Response: I do not believe my color is an issue one way or another. As a senator, and now as President, I am certain my views about immoderate activity and violence are well known. Like my predecessor, I believe in progress under the law and through the courts of the land, such progress as is being made on behalf of Negro Americans by the Crispus Society and NAACP.

  Question: Do you believe passage of the Minorities Rehabilitation Program will alleviate the current tension, and do you intend to support and sign the massive work and education bill? Suggested Response: I believe that MRP has much to offer minorities in this country, but at the same time I do not believe it should make us relax our other efforts to secure civil rights for all men and women, et cetera. I am still studying the bill, and will make my views known shortly.

  Dilman put down his cigar and rubbed his eyes. The last question was the only one, so far, to which he had written the response. He realized now that his statement was ambiguous, and might not satisfy the press.

  “Tim,” he called out, “do you think they’ll try to pin me down on the MRP Bill?”

  Flannery nodded. “I think you can expect it.”

  Talley took a few steps from the fireplace. “Mr. President, I’m positive you’ll avoid a lot of nettlesome questions by simply coming out in flat support of-”

  “Governor,” Dilman interrupted, “I’m not saying I’m against it, God knows. It’s just so damn big and important, I want to feel sure it is right-will ease off the tension-”

  Flannery said, “Then whatever you’re asked, keep saying you are consulting with your advisers, seeking the best and most efficient legislation possible. You know the sort of thing.”

  “I understand,” said Dilman.

  He reviewed the remaining possible questions and suggested responses quickly. How often would he hold press conferences? There was a star after this one. It had been planted. He was to say that he hoped to air ideas with the press every two weeks, depending upon circumstances. Had he approved of the Postmaster General’s new commemorative stamp bearing T. C.’s likeness? This also had been planted. He was to say that he had instigated the idea of the memorial stamp. Would he permit his name to be offered as a candidate for the Presidency at the Party convention in Baltimore next year? No star after this one. He was to say that such political considerations were premature, that he preferred to make no comment at this time, except to say that he had never had, and had not now, any political ambitions beyond Congress.

  There were several more questions, and then the last one, and reading it, he sat up. For the first time, the New Succession Bill, which would freeze his Cabinet by giving the Senate authority over him, lay coldly and boldly before his eyes, not in speculative newsprint but as a fact presented by his advisers.

  Possible Question: Since the New Succession Bill seems assured of passage through Congress, will you sign it into law or veto it?

  Without lifting his head to look, he sensed that the watching Talley knew that he had arrived at the yet unspoken question and that, in a way, it was being asked of him by his staff rather than by the press.

  Suggested Response: For a long time we have needed reforms and better precautionary measures in our Presidential succession system. The possibilities of multiple deaths in the line of succession, in this nuclear age, are too real to be ignored. I approve of Senator Hankins’ proposed bill as one more security measure to safeguard the nation at large.

  The omission glared out at Dilman. There was not a word about the embarrassing addendum to the bill, the one amputating his removal powers. Did Talley and the others think the members of the press were blind to it, that they would not ask it?

  He took pen in hand, and looked at Talley. “Governor, about the last question here. I don’t think I’ll get away with your suggested response. It covers only three-fourths of the New Succession Bill. Someone is surely going to inquire about the final paragraphs, and I’d better be ready.”

  Talley came toward the desk, with Flannery behind him, and Dilman was pleased to see that his aide was flushed with consternation.

  “I-we didn’t know what you’d want to say about that, Mr. President,” Talley was saying. “We’ve never discussed the clause-”

  “Because no one brought it up,” said Dilman. He faced Flannery. “Tim, I’d better be ready to say something about that. If I’m asked about it, and I will be, I’ll try to make up my mind what to say extemporaneously. I just want to jot a note here for you, after my suggested response, to the effect that-let me think-well-that I have examined the clause shifting the removal powers of the President over his Cabinet to the Senate, in the special case where the succession has gone below Vice-President, and-and while I understand the motivation behind it-the desire of Congress to preserve the nature of the elected and appointed government-I must remark that I believe the clause to be of debatable legality and designed to weaken the executive branch of government. Will I let that one questionable feature turn me against an otherwise excellent piece of legislation or will I approve it? I don’t know, Tim-Governor-I’m afraid if I suggest veto, it will create an uproar, make the Southern bloc in Congress, the racists around the country, positive that I’m going to dump T. C.’s Cabinet for an all-black Cabinet. I can’t afford that, no matter how I feel-”

  “Exactly, that’s the point, Mr. President,” said Talley anxiously. “The whole piece of legislation was merely made to alleviate fear-”

  “But I think the legislation is wrong because it is unconstitutional,” Dilman said. “I’ll make a note here that I cannot say how I will act until I observe the conditions under which the final New Succession Bill reaches my desk. Then, if I find it necessary to approve it in order to preserve national unity, I will do so after making my legal opinion, and the opinions of the best constitutional lawyers, known to the country.”

  Hastily, he scrawled several sentences a
fter the last suggested response.

  He looked up. “There, that should keep everyone satisfied-for the time.”

  “Very wise, Mr. President,” said Talley, exhaling a gust of relief.

  Dilman turned the page. “Let me bone up on the backgrounds to my responses-”

  Talley quickly retreated, as if his proximity might provoke the President into second thoughts.

  Studiously Dilman devoted himself to the information. He had gone through five of the capsule briefings when the buzzer sounded from Miss Foster’s office.

  Since he had told her to hold all calls except the most urgent ones, he picked up the telephone immediately.

  “Mr. President,” said Edna Foster, her voice quavering, “the Attorney General is here. He must see you at once. He says that it is imperative.”

  “Shoot him right in.”

  He hung up. “Clay Kemmler’s here. Apparently, something critical-”

  “We can step out until-” Flannery began.

  Dilman waved Flannery and Talley back to the sofa. “No, stay put. Let’s-”

  Edna Foster’s door swung open, and then shut, and Attorney General Kemmler stormed in, flinging his hat at the sofa, ignoring Talley and Flannery as he shed his coat and moved toward the President. Dilman could see that Kemmler was the personification of spleen. His close-set, flinty eyes narrowed, and looked as if they were giving off sparks. Head back, his square jaw thrust forward beyond the point of his nose, he resembled a beset dragon carrying banderillas in its backside.

  “Mr. President, there’s trouble for us,” he announced angrily, almost bumping into the Buchanan desk. “I thought you’d better hear it in person, not on the phone, because we’ll have to make some fast decisions.”

  He paused, leaned over the desk, and said, “Those goddam Turnerites went and started their retaliation program. I just got the flash from Mississippi. Some of Hurley’s hoodlums crossed into Hattiesburg, grabbed Judge Everett Gage at gunpoint, and kidnaped him. They left a ransom note for local, state, and Federal officials. They’ll free Judge Gage when Mississippi frees those Turnerites who were sentenced to ten years. Now what in the holy hell am I supposed to do?”

  Involuntarily, Dilman had shivered when Kemmler spat out “kidnaped him.” The full realization that his people, a segment of them, had ceased talking terror, were practicing it, performing it, involving him in their insane deed, frightened him.

  “It’s crazy,” he said. “Are you sure Hurley is responsible? I can’t believe it.”

  “He’s already sent a denial to the Birmingham and Jackson papers-but who else can be responsible for this act except Hurley and his Turnerites?” Kemmler demanded impatiently. “Naturally, he gave out a statement denying his Group had anything to do with it, but he added something to the effect that he couldn’t disapprove of any of his fellow Negroes standing up for their rights. We’re trying to locate him for questioning, but no luck, so far. But whether he denies it or not, whether he makes it look like an individual action or not, it’s got to be something he sanctioned. Hasn’t he been threatening us with retaliation and violence in all his speeches? And who else on earth would risk their necks in a foolhardy act like this-trying to spring a bunch of jailed Turnerites-except other Turnerites?”

  Within Dilman there beat a faint hope. “So far, as much as you know, the kidnaping was done by individuals?”

  “So far, yes,” said Kemmler. “But, Mr. President, there’s no doubt over at Justice that the crime is a direct result of announced Turnerite policies.”

  Dilman’s gaze went from the Attorney General to Talley and Flannery, who had come forward, both deeply disturbed. Dilman shook his head. “Well, whether it was the act of individuals or an organization-whichever-how in the devil do they expect to accomplish anything by it?”

  “I’ll tell you how,” said Kemmler. He pushed past Flannery, and came around the desk to stand over the President. “It’s all been thought out, every detail. The unsigned ransom note demands that the ten Turnerites in the penitentiary at Parchman be released from jail at once and be delivered safely to Tampico, the Mexican seaport-very smart, since you know and I know how goddam uncooperative the Mexican government has been lately about extraditing our fugitive citizens of Mexican, Japanese, or Negro descent. When the Turnerites are released and landed in Tampico, the kidnapers promise Judge Gage will be returned unharmed. That’s the deal.”

  Dilman sought to rally his authority. “What’s this got to do with us? From what you’ve told me, it’s strictly a state affair.”

  “No, Mr. President, it’s our affair,” said Kemmler emphatically, slapping his thigh. “I spoke to Lombardi at once, and ordered him to sic the FBI after them, because there were indications that the victim was being taken across the state line. Now there’s concrete evidence from the FBI that Gage has been carried from Mississippi into Louisiana, and the hoodlums are probably trying to get him to Texas and into Mexico. That makes it our business. That brings it under the Lindbergh kidnaping law. It’s a clear-cut Federal offense.”

  “Well, all right, you’re on top of it,” said Dilman. “You’re doing what you can-”

  “My God, Mr. President,” exclaimed Kemmler, slapping his thigh repeatedly in his agitation, “this is only the beginning. Can’t you see what this means? It means Hurley, Valetti, the whole Turnerite gang-no matter what their phony denials-are starting their eye-for-an-eye policy. If we let them get away with this, they’re going to go on with it, take the law into their own hands. Every time they can trump up an injustice practiced upon a Negro, they’re going to retaliate with a kidnaping, blaming their act on unknown individuals and mocking us with their innocence as a group. Can’t you see what this will lead to? Anarchy, crime compounding crime, with counter-vigilante outfits galloping around the country. Goddammit, we’re going to have the Civil War all over again-but twice as bad, because it’ll be black against white this time-unless we do something fast.”

  Shaken, eyes now downcast, Dilman began crumbling the cigar butt between his fingers. “I suppose I could make some kind of personal appeal to Hurley to join us in apprehending-”

  “No, absolutely not,” said Kemmler.

  Talley snapped his fingers for attention. “Mr. President, I’m inclined to agree with the Attorney General. You, personally, can’t treat with a possible abductor as an equal, bring him up to your level, or demean yourself by going down to his. The consequences-”

  “I’m flatly against any bargaining,” Kemmler interrupted. “The situation is too explosive. We can’t let one man who is outside the law, heading up one organization, decide what is just and unjust, and mete out his own punishments. We can’t have two governments, Mr. President. If there are biases and delinquency on our side, and there are plenty of these, we’ll find ways to right them under due process, but no gang of activists is going to supplant us.” He straightened, breathing heavily, and then continued. “The FBI’ll nail the kidnapers soon enough, you can be sure. Then we’ll be able to prove their link to the Turnerites and prosecute them. But we can’t wait for that, believe me. What we need from you, Mr. President, is foresight and firm intervention right now that’ll put an immediate stop to any more Turnerite violence. In this way you’ll discourage lawlessness from other activist groups, black or white. You’ve got a press conference today, right? You can bet those reporter hounds will be howling after you and after me. Okay, I think you should be ready for them, beat them to the punch. I think you should announce that the Federal government is moving immediately to outlaw and disband the Turnerites, and that any person found to be a member-”

  “Wait a minute,” Dilman interrupted, rolling his swivel chair back, and swinging his bulk directly toward Kemmler. “I haven’t the power to ban or restrict any private society or organization in the United States, be it the Turnerites or the Ku Klux Klan, unless-”

  “Unless it is proved subversive,” Kemmler finished for him. “That’s right. Well, we’ve got the g
oods on the Turnerites. It was because he anticipated a situation exactly like this that T. C. forced Congress into beefing up the Subversive Activities Control Act. He and Congress knew that the $10,000 fine and five-year imprisonment for failure of a Communist to register wasn’t going to scare anyone, especially since it was always being questioned in the courts. That’s why T. C. pounded through this stronger act-any Communist Front organization engaging in subversive activity, to the detriment of the nation, against the safety of the government, can have its leaders punished and its membership disbanded, and those not complying-”

  “You don’t have to read the law to me, Kemmler,” Dilman broke in. “I voted for it in the Senate. I just don’t see how the Subversive Activities Control Act can be applied to the Turnerites. They don’t-”

  “We can pin a Communist Front tag on the Turnerites and make it stick!” Kemmler exclaimed triumphantly.

  “The Turnerites-Communist?” said Dilman with disbelief. “Come, now. I know you’re investigating that newspaper scoop about one of the Turnerite directors-whatever his name-Valetti, yes-being a Red, but-”

  Kemmler shoved his face almost into Dilman’s own. “We have investigated Frank Valetti. He’s been a Communist Party member for years, and he still is. He is also Hurley’s second-in-command. That’s point one. And here’s point two, the clincher. Over in Justice we wondered where the Turnerites were getting their money. Who was financing them? Either they were being kept in business by the Crispus Society, which I doubted, or by the Communist Party. Well, we’re now satisfied that Valetti has been carrying money from the Commies to the Turnerites.”

  Dilman shook his head vigorously. “I’m not satisfied. It sounds flaky. Accepting the fact that a member of the Turnerite leadership is a Communist is one thing, but proving the Turnerites, as a group, are part of a conspiracy to overthrow the government-I don’t think anyone will buy that.”

  “You don’t?” Clay Kemmler was obviously indignant. “Mr. President, forgive me, but your people have been wide-open to Communist manipulation for years. Remember what J. Edgar Hoover said years ago? He said the Communists were trying to divide and weaken America from within. He said the Communists were trying to exploit misunderstandings and take advantage of areas of dissension and unrest in this country. He said, ‘This is especially true in the intense civil rights movement, for America’s twenty million Negroes and all others engaged in this struggle are a major target for Communist propaganda and subversion.’ Well, okay, that’s what is going on right now. Valetti and the Commies are trying to use the Turnerites for their own ends, and Hurley and the Turnerites are fanatic enough to accept anyone’s help to achieve their goals.”