by Ted Allbeury
Back at the house Nolan read through the radio reports from New York. Kleppe had only left his apartment for local shopping but they had noted two public phone boxes that he seemed to use regularly. Arrangements had been made to bug them during the night.
There were reports of three men who also could be watching the apartment. Photographs had been taken and sent to Central Records for possible identification. If they were watching it was considered that they might be professionals, as they were doing it so well.
Attempts were being made to use a window bug on Kleppe’s apartment but so far they had been unsuccessful. Was Nolan prepared to authorize an application for a full-scale tapping at the telephone exchange? He initialled the sheet with a negative.
MacKay came in as he signed the last sheet. Nolan spoke while he manoeuvred a refill into his ball-point.
“Get out a pad, James, and let’s have a look at what we’ve got.”
They took a break for a meal but it was three hours later when the list was complete.
Operation 66
Established material at 1 December. Items asterisked considered strong enough for court.
Kleppe
* 1. Entered US on false documents.
* 2. Speaks Russian.
* 3. Has influence with Russians in Paris.
* 4. Illegal diamond transactions.
* 5. Has latest KGB transceiver.
6. Almost certainly Soviet citizen and KGB operator.
* 7. Has lent or given large sums of money to wide group of influential people at all levels.
* 8. Known associate of Dempsey.
* 9. Known associate of girl at 38th Street apartment.
* 10. Has visited Moscow in last two years.
11. Has connections with Oakes.
* 12. Used Soviet influence to release Dempsey and girl from Paris jail.
Dempsey
* 1. Was member of CP in 1968.
* 2. Had Soviet girlfriend, also Party member.
* 3. Known associate of girl at 38th St.
4. Paid Siwecki for strike.
5. Gave orders to Siwecki who was CP member.
* 6. Known associate of Kleppe.
* 7. Has received large sums of money over long period from Kleppe. Possibly for onward distribution.
* 8. Obligated to Kleppe for release from jail.
Powell
* 1. Known associate of Dempsey.
* 2. Knew strike was “fixed.”
* 3. Was least likely nominee as Republican candidate for governorship of Connecticut.
4. Has indicated policies, since election, favourable to Soviets.
Nolan looked unhappy as he read down the final list.
“You know what’s wrong with this, James?”
“Tell me.”
“We could arrest Kleppe right now. And have him deported. We could prove that Dempsey fixed the strike at the Haig plant and that that helped Powell. And we could prove that he is an associate of Kleppe. But that’s all. And throwing out Kleppe wouldn’t do a damn thing. They would have been warned and Kleppe’s replacement would have to be more careful. That’s all we could do.”
“All we need is to link Dempsey with Kleppe. His link with Powell is public.”
“That wouldn’t prove that Powell knew what they were doing.”
“But it could invalidate the election if it was proved that the result was achieved by criminal conspiracy.”
“Maybe. I’m not sure what the ground rules are. But that would be a last resort.”
“Let’s try and establish what the ideal solution would be.”
“You mean assuming that Powell is part of some conspiracy?”
“Yes. Let us assume that we can prove Dempsey and Kleppe were working under Soviet orders to get Powell in the White House. What would we want to happen?”
“It depends on whether Powell was part of the conspiracy. Did he know, or was he in total ignorance of what was going on?”
“Let us assume that it is neither extreme. He wasn’t in total ignorance but Dempsey and his backers had never told him what was going on.”
“He’d have to be out of his mind not to notice that something was odd.”
“Or maybe just blinded by ambition?”
Nolan looked towards the window as he absorbed the facts. Finally he looked back at MacKay.
“We’ll have to assume that he wasn’t fully in the picture but he was aware that something was going on. And that’s too indefinite a condition for us to prove. A court or a committee could easily come to that conclusion after hearing all the evidence, but that’s all.”
“So they hit Kleppe and Dempsey, but Powell carries on.”
“Congress would turn their backs on him. He would be a cypher, and the whole country would be in turmoil for four years. God knows what the rest of the world would think. It would be an impossible situation.”
“So we’ve got to do two separate things. We’ve got to prove that there’s a Soviet plot that got Powell into the White House and that it was organized by Kleppe and Dempsey. And when we’ve proved that, Powell has to be pressured out on fear of exposure.”
Nolan groaned. “That’s it, friend. It sounds so short and simple, but it ain’t.”
“May I make a suggestion?”
Nolan grinned. “Sure.”
“How about I look into Powell’s background while you’re dealing with Dempsey.”
“OK, but just desk research, no personal contacts.”
CHAPTER 14
The house facing Gramercy Park had been built in 1846 to the design of Alexander Jackson Davis and only the ornate railings and balconies could be accused of being Gothic. But it was not its outward appearance that impressed Jim Oakes. It was the cool, calm interior, and the man who seemed to have all the time in the world before he got down to why he had called him there. He was a handsome man, sun-tanned, with a large head and features that could have graced a Roman coin. White hair, almost crew-cut, and eyes that looked as if they could extract the truth without effort. His shirt was a dazzling white and although he was noticeably still, when he moved his hands Oakes noticed the sparkle of diamonds in the gold cuff-links. And when he spoke, the questions were short, but so precise that they admitted no answer but the truth.
This was Oakes’s seventh visit in the last ten months, and he was flattered at the courtesy he was always shown. Pieter de Jong’s family had been around when New York was New Amsterdam and he wore his role as Republican Party Vice-Chairman with an air of it honouring the party more than the man.
De Jong poured the drinks himself, and when he sat back in the white garden chair he raised his glass.
“Your good health, Mr. Oakes.”
“And yours, Mr. de Jong.”
“And how is our friend finding Washington?”
“I haven’t seen him since the election but I hear that he’s working hard with his take-over teams.”
“Seems to be charming the press and the public.”
“I guess that’s not too difficult at this stage.”
De Jong laughed softly.
“Have you had any contact with Markham?”
“We’ve met a couple of times. I guess Vice-Presidents-Elect are not so hard pressed as their masters.”
De Jong leaned forward and put down his glass. He reached over and pressed a bell on the wall.
“You’ll lunch with me?”
Oakes recognized immediately that it was a command rather than a question.
A manservant served the simple but superb meal, and de Jong talked about the New York party organization and the set-up in Washington. It was when they were sitting with their coffees that Oakes sensed that the mealtime talk had been time-filling and that they were now back to business.
“And what are they saying, Mr. Oakes. Now they’ve heard his plans?”
“Difficult to assess, Mr. de Jong. There’s no doubt that the public like it, but on the Hill there’s discontent.”
“From whom?”
“From our side mainly. They don’t like the defence cuts. They don’t like the playing footsie with Moscow bit.”
“So why don’t they say so?”
Oakes shrugged. “Who is going to talk against billions of dollars of trade, or bringing American boys back home? You might just as well talk bad about mothers. The polls show ridiculous figures like 75 per cent for Powell.”
“Have you had any more dealings with Dempsey?”
“A couple of phone calls. Just routine stuff.”
“And Kleppe?”
Oakes shook his head. “No. Since you gave me the loan to pay off my indebtedness he’s not been in touch.”
“And how’s business?”
“Very good, Mr. de Jong. I’ve brought a cheque with me.”
“I think I could help you there. I’ll talk to you about an arrangement, a new arrangement, in about two weeks’ time.”
“It’s not a problem now.”
“I’m glad to hear that. But you just hold your horses, my friend. Has there been any development on the murder investigation?”
“Henney tells me that they’re working in the dark. Seems like the Treasury is involved some way. He says it was definitely a professional job.”
“You mean a Mafia job?”
“No. I got the impression he meant foreigners.”
“Who’s the Treasury man on this job?”
“Henney wouldn’t say. He’s been warned off about talking.”
“You know that old man Haig had a man visit him? Said he was investigating a union problem.”
“No, he didn’t mention it to me.”
“A fellow named Nolan. Said he was from Washington. I’ve got a feeling he might contact you.”
Oakes looked surprised. “Why me?”
“Who knows? But if he does, I suggest you hold him off until you’ve had a word with me.”
“I’ll do that. But why me?”
“You’re a stockholder in Haig Electronics.”
“So?”
De Jong shifted in his chair and half-smiled.
“Maybe about the strike they had way back.”
Oakes’s watery eyes noted the smile.
“You knew about that?”
“Not at the time. But I know now.”
“It’s covered in every possible way. They’d never break it open.”
“It only wants one man to talk, Mr. Oakes.”
“Well, I can assure you it won’t be me.”
De Jong smiled, stood up carefully and held out his hand.
“Keep in touch, Mr. Oakes. Keep in touch.”
Kleppe’s tongue explored his lower lip slowly and reflectively as Dempsey waited for his comment. Finally Kleppe spoke.
“I think it’s best you don’t tell him right now.”
“I’ve done everything except say the words.”
“And he still doesn’t see you as part of the control group?”
“No. I’m just a go-between. A fixer. The guy who waves the magic wand. The carrier of messages.”
“Maybe it’s better that way.”
“I don’t think so, Viktor. Or I’ll have to argue every point to the bitter end.”
“What do you think his reaction will be when he really gets the point?”
“I’m not sure he’ll be able to bring himself to believe it. He’s really beginning to think he made it on his own. A bit of assistance here and there. It’s understandable in a way. He’s had the support of people that even I wouldn’t have expected to pitch in for him.”
“Like who?”
“Hard line Republicans like Pardoe in LA, de Jong in New York, the Lowry gang in Chicago. I’d have thought they would hate everything he proposes to do. They want the old system, where everybody delivers votes and gets their rewards in the usual way.”
“Moscow’s analysis was that those boys would go along with a nice mix of isolationism and an extended market in the East.”
“Sure they will, but they still want the building contracts, the Federal hand-outs and the rest of the Washington fruit-salad. In the beginning they were trying to put the skids under him and suddenly they find he’s the guy in the white hat.”
“Why do you think it’s so urgent to establish the situation with Powell right now?”
“He’s sorting out new appointments, and a couple of weeks from now I’m going to be one of a crowd. I’ll have direct access but I shall not get much of his time.”
Kleppe nodded. “You’re right, but I think we don’t have a confrontation. He’s doing what we want, and that’s what matters. If you have to wrestle him a bit, then do it.”
Kleppe’s red telephone rang half an hour after Dempsey had left.
“Yes.”
“Shoot if you must this old grey head.”
The voice paused, and Kleppe replied slowly.
“But spare your country’s flag instead.”
“There’s somebody followed your friend since he left you.”
“Where’d they start?”
“Right at your place.”
“Why didn’t you phone before?”
“Because I don’t know who he is, and your friend’s only just stopped moving.”
“Where are you now?”
“In a public box near the girl’s place on 38th.”
“Where’s the tail?”
“Walking up and down. I think he’s got a radio.”
“I’ll phone my friend, you just follow the tail and get an identification.”
“OK.”
Kleppe dialled the girl’s number and she answered.
“Is Andy there?”
“Who’s that speaking?”
“K.”
“Just a moment.”
There was a clatter at the other end, then Dempsey’s voice.
“Andy.”
“There’s a guy tailing you. Leave that place, go to the Waldorf, nice and slowly, have a drink in the downstairs bar, talk to someone, anyone, and then leave. Go to the cinema or somewhere public. Get rid of the tail and then phone me.”
“Who is he?”
“I don’t know but I’m gonna find out.”
Steiner watched Dempsey talking to two men at the Carousel Bar at the Waldorf but he was sure they were not contacts. He saw Dempsey walk out of the doors on Park Avenue, stand hesitating for a few moments, then turn left and walk down to 42nd Street and through to Times Square. Steiner watched as Dempsey stood looking across at the cinema posters. He watched him cross and enter the foyer of the cinema and followed after Dempsey, who bought a ticket and walked through the swing doors. Steiner bought a ticket and as he went through the doors Dempsey came back through the other set of doors and walked briskly across the street and along to a cluster of phone booths by Bryant Park. He telephoned Kleppe and then took a cab to the garage to pick up his car. Neither Steiner nor Dempsey noticed the man who had followed them both.
Kleppe’s man phoned him just before midnight and gave him the name and room number of Steiner’s hotel. He was registered as Josef Steiner and the room had been booked for two weeks by the CIA office in Washington with an address on Pennsylvania Avenue a couple of blocks from the White House.
Nolan got up early and by six o’clock he had trotted in his blue track-suit round the lawns in front of the house, breakfasted, and was sitting at his trestle table reading through Steiner’s reports. He telephoned Harper’s Secretariat for the IRS information on Kleppe, and New York for further information on the apartment block on 38th. His man carrying out surveillance at Dempsey’s Hartford apartment radioed in that Dempsey had arrived back from New York at 3am and had gone straight to his apartment. Oakes had agreed to see Nolan at his office at noon.
Looking down the list of company names on the board in the reception area, Nolan saw that there was still a panel saying “Logan Powell & Associates, Business Consultants.” The address was the floor below Oakes’s law firm.
Nolan sat
in the lawyer’s reception room. It was pleasantly old-fashioned, and on the wall was the original artwork of a Norman Rockwell Saturday Evening Post front cover in a plain white frame. Nolan recognized Powell and Dempsey in a group photograph showing Oakes receiving some sort of certificate.
In a cluster of black frames were photographs of Oakes on a tennis court partnering a blonde woman, Oakes in a USAAF officer’s uniform, and Oakes in the company of various important-looking men whom Nolan could not identify.
A middle-aged secretary came out of the far door and invited him to enter, with a smile and a lift of her eyebrows.
Oakes stood behind his desk and waved Nolan to a chair. He was in his late fifties, a lightly-built man with a ruddy complexion and very pale-blue eyes. The tweed suit he wore fitted his body loosely, and he hitched up his trousers as he sat down.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Nolting?”
There was something in Oakes’s look that made Nolan certain that his name had been deliberately mispronounced. He wondered why Oakes should be playing games before he knew what it was all about.
“I thought you might be able to help me, Mr. Oakes. I’m making some inquiries about the strike a few years back at Haig Electronics.”
Oakes fiddled with a pipe and an old-fashioned tobacco pouch. Without looking up he said, “In what way can I help you?”
“You were Haig’s legal adviser at the time.”
“Still am.”
“I’ve had a chat with Mr. Haig himself. He didn’t mention that to you?”
“No.” Oakes looked up and the washed-out eyes were alert, like a bird of prey’s. “Any reason why he should?”
Nolan was used to tougher adversaries than Oakes and he ignored the question and the challenge.
“Looking through the stockholder’s register I noticed that you bought stock in the company yourself about a week before the strike. Why was that?”
Oakes smiled. “It sometimes pays to show faith in important clients’ enterprises.”
“But why at that particular time?”
Oakes shrugged. “Why not?”
“Because you had been their legal adviser for eleven years without holding any stock. Why was it suddenly so important?”
“There was no particular reason. I had some cash to invest. I chose to invest it in Haig Electronics.”
“Not true, Mr. Oakes. Your bank statements at that period show that you had an overdraft facility of twenty thousand dollars fully utilized. Your tax return for that period showed a net income for that year of fourteen thousand dollars gross. You bought seventy-five-thousand dollars worth of stock. Where did the money come from?”
