And there had been no serious crime or disorder in Argo City - none whatsoever - for over five years.
It was too good - or too horrible - to be true.
Collins closed the folder.
There was only one way to know the truth. To see for himself. If what he saw was a preview of America under the 35th Amendment, then there was someone else, besides Radenbaugh and himself, who must see it, someone who could stop the 35th Amendment, if necessary.
His decision was made.
He picked up the telephone and got his secretary. ‘Marion, these telephones, were they debugged today?’
‘No longer necessary, Mr Collins. The scrambler equipment you ordered was installed this morning.’
This eased his concern. His phone had a scrambler at last, which meant all his outgoing phone calls would be rendered unintelligible until they reached the destination of his call, where they would be unscrambled and rendered into intelligible conversation.
Feeling reassured by this precaution, with the telephone in his hand, he was ready for the next step. ‘Put through this call,’ he said. ‘Get me Chief Justice Maynard immediately. If he’s not in, locate him. I must speak to him at once.’
On a hot, dry late Friday morning in early June, they had converged on Phoenix, Arizona, by air, from three different places.
Chris Collins, his plane reservation made in the name of C. Cutshaw, had arrived from Baltimore’s Friendship Airport - via Chicago - at the Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix on a 727 jetliner at eleven seventeen. He was the first.
Shortly after, Donald Radenbaugh, traveling under his new name of Dorian Schiller, had arrived from Carson City, via Reno and Las Vegas, on a DC-9. He was to have been the first, arriving at ten twelve, but his flight had been delayed an hour and fifteen minutes.
Finally, Chief Justice John G. Maynard, answering to the name Joseph Lengel, had been scheduled to arrive from New York City on a 707 at eleven forty-six.
It had been agreed in advance that Collins and Radenbaugh would not wait for Maynard, that it would be unwise for the three of them to enter Argo City together and register at the Constellation Hotel together. It had been agreed that Collins and Radenbaugh would proceed to Argo City at once, to be followed by Maynard after his later arrival.
Collins had waited impatiently in the air terminal until
the announcement that Radenbaugh’s delayed flight had
landed. He had not recognized Radenbaugh until the other
had been almost fully upon him. The plastic surgeon in
Nevada had done his work well. Something had happened
to Radenbaugh’s nose, which was still slightly swollen.
When Radenbaugh had removed his oversized sunglasses, it
could be seen that the bags had been removed from beneath
his eyes, replaced by bruises that were fading, and the eyes
themselves were smaller and almost Oriental. His entire
appearance had been altered considerably.
‘Mr Cutshaw?’ he said with amusement.
‘Mr Dorian Schiller,’ said Collins, handing Radenbaugh a manila envelope. ‘Your official baptism is in there. The people in Denver were very efficient. Anything you’d ever want to know about Dorian Schiller is in that envelope.’
I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.’
‘Not half as much as I appreciate where you’re taking us today. I hope it proves to be what you heard it was. Then it’ll be completely up to John Maynard.’ He had glanced at the terminal’s wall clock. ‘He’ll be here in about twenty minutes. He’ll be taking a taxi to Argo City.’ Collins gestured toward the exit. ‘I have a rented Ford outside.’
They had driven southwest, through the broad green fields with their glistening rows of irrigation ditches, before reaching the expanse of desert. They had driven steadily in the direction of the Mexican border.
Presently they had come upon the yellow road sign with the black lettering:
ARGO CITY
POPULATION 14,000 HOME OF ARGO SMELTING AND REFINING CO.
Radenbaugh, at the wheel, had pointed across Collins’ chest.
‘There it is - the copper-mine pit. A mile and a half wide and about 600 feet deep. That’s where most of the male population works.’
In short minutes they were in the center of Argo City -a single broad paved main street, with four or five intersections. Collins had been able to identify a number of the clean, well-maintained buildings. There had been a vast, sprawling, glass-fronted general store. The U.S. Post Office. The Argo City Theater. Something called the City Maintenance Shop. A small park, neat, with walks leading to the Argo City Public Library. A steepled Episcopal church. A two-story brick edifice identified as the home of the Argo City Bugle, presumably the town newspaper.
The tallest building was the Constellation Hotel - four
stories, in good repair, and despite its name, of Spanish-style design.
They had parked in the strip of a lot next door, sauntered past an Indian shop featuring Navajo dolls, baskets, leather goods, silverwork, and pottery, and entered the tiled lobby of the hotel, which ran around an open central patio.
‘Looks like a miniature of the J. Edgar Hoover Building,’ Collins had whispered. ‘Tynan probably built it’
Radenbaugh brought a finger to his lips. ‘Enough of that, Mr Cutshaw,’ he had murmured out of the corner of his mouth.
At the desk they had registered as Cutshaw and Schiller, from Bisbee, Arizona. They required their adjoining single rooms only until late afternoon, when they would be checking out.
A bellhop had taken Radenbaugh’s briefcase and Collins’ overnighter, accompanied them up in the elevator to the third floor, led them to their rooms down the cool hall, obligingly opened the door between the rooms, examined the air conditioning, waited for his tip, and departed.
Now they were alone in Collins’ room.
It had been agreed they would wait for Chief Justice Maynard before going out into the city.
‘Once he gets here, he’ll dismiss his taxi,’ Collins said. ‘We’ll leave for Phoenix together. By then it won’t matter.’ He scratched his head. ‘To me the town seems ordinary enough. Everything appeared perfectly normal, as far as I could see.’
‘Wait’ll you see more,’ Radenbaugh told him. He opened his briefcase. I made a list last night of everything I could remember Noah Baxter telling me about the place, when he was discussing The R Document.’
‘And I have a list of things to visit or look into, made up from the research my staff prepared,’ said Collins. ‘Let’s put the two lists together. Then, when Maynard gets here, we can decide which seem most promising, and dole out the assignments.’
They worked for fifteen minutes preparing a master list of what Argo City offered, and when they were through they were satisfied.
‘I only hope we can find what we want in four hours,’ said Collins.
‘All we can do is try,’ said Radenbaugh. ‘Everything will depend on how people we see and talk to buy our cover story. Do you have the letter?’
Collins patted the breast of his coat. ‘Right here. No trouble. Someone in Justice got stationery with the Phillips Industries letterhead overnight. I don’t know how it’s done, but they did it. Then I dictated the letter of introduction.’
They reviewed and rehearsed their cover story, and tried out suspicious, difficult questions on each other. Their cover story had them in Argo City as representatives of Phillips Industries, which had secured permission from the Argo Smelting and Refining Company for an inspection of certain civic improvements in Argo City. These improvements would be considered by Phillips Industries in some remodeling and city planning soon to be done in Bisbee, Arizona.
‘What’s Maynard going to use for a cover?’ Radenbaugh wanted to know.
‘His story is altogether different. We registered for the afternoon. He’s registering overnight, even though he’ll leave with us. Essentially, he’s a
tourist. A retired lawyer and senior citizen from Los Angeles. He’s traveling from LA. to Tucson to visit with his son and daughter-in-law, see a newly arrived grandchild. He’s stopping in Argo City overnight not only to get some rest after a long trip, but to look into the possibility of buying a home here. He’s been through here once before and was attracted by the community. Now he’s considering settling down here.’
Radenbaugh wrinkled his swollen nose. ‘I’m not sure of that one.’
‘It should do for four hours. Trying to become a resident of Argo City? That should turn up plenty.’
‘Maybe.’
Collins had one more thing on his mind. ‘Do you think anyone here - the city manager, newspaper publisher, police chief - anyone - has ever heard of The R Document?’
‘No one. Not even the board of directors of Argo Smelting. No one knows they’re guinea pigs for Tynan’s master plan for the United States next year and in the years to
come. The R Document can be known only to Vernon Tynan, and maybe his sidekick -I forget his name - ’
‘Harry Adcock.’
‘Yes, Adcock - and, of course, the late Noah Baxter. Then there’s me, there’s my daughter, there’s the priest who first told you about it, and there’s you. I doubt if anyone else has even heard the name.’
‘Argo City is only part of The R Document, you said. I want to know the rest of it. I’ve been hoping we might turn up some clue here.’
‘You might. But I wouldn’t count on it.’
‘Well, I guess all that matters is what we find out here today,’ said Collins.
‘You mean to kill the 35th in California?’
‘Yes. If we don’t find anything here -‘
‘Or if we get caught and exposed.’
‘ - I’m afraid I’ll have to throw in the towel. This is it, Donald. It’s going to be a tense afternoon.’
‘I know.’
Collins held up his watch. ‘John Maynard should be here by now.’
Ten minutes later, Maynard rapped on the door and was admitted to Collins’ room. He resembled anything but the dignified, imposing Chief Justice of the United States. In his broad-brimmed brown hat, sunglasses, open shirt, rumpled khakis and ankle-high boots, he resembled an old prospector who had just wandered into town after two weeks in the blazing desert.
‘Here we are,’ he said, ‘all together in this godforsaken place. It was a rough ride, that taxi ride from Phoenix. I sent the cab back. That was right, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ said Collins. ‘We’ll leave here together.’
Maynard tossed his hat on the bed and sat down. ‘But now we have to start. We have little enough time.’ He looked at Radenbaugh. ‘You, I gather, are Donald Radenbaugh.’
‘Forgive me,’ said Collins hastily, and he formally introduced them.
Maynard held his gaze on Radenbaugh. I hope you’re not wasting our time. Your report on Argo City was shocking, to say the least. I hope it was accurate.’
I reported only what I had heard from Colonel Baxter,’ said Radenbaugh defensively. ‘The Reconstruction Document was based on Director Tynan’s study of Argo C
‘Umm. So we’re to see the future United States in microcosm, our country as it will appear after the 35th Amendment is passed and invoked. Well, Mr Radenbaugh, I tell you honestly, I find it hard to believe that the conditions Colonel Baxter told you prevail here actually do exist. I don’t think any community in the United States could get away with that for long.’
‘Many have, at least to a degree,’ said Collins. ‘I made my own study of company towns. While there were none as totalitarian as this one is supposed to be, there have been some awful practices and restraints.’
‘Umm. I suppose anything is possible. If it were actually true here … ‘ He lapsed into thought. ‘Well, that would certainly put a new light on everything. We’ll have to find out firsthand, and quickly, what’s really going on. Mr Collins, where do we begin?’
Collins was ready. He took up his notes. ‘I’d like to suggest, Mr Chief Justice, that you start by visiting the Argo City Realty Company. After all, you are supposed to be considering living here. Then, playing the role of a retired attorney, you might drop in on the local judge, possibly through him get to the sheriff. Also, pay a visit to one of the general stores, maybe the supermarket, and get into conversation with some of the customers.’
‘Not so fast,’ said Maynard, who had a scrap of paper on his knee and was scribbling down his assignments.
Collins waited and then continued. ‘If you have time, look in on the Argo City Bugle. Go through some of the back copies. You won’t have much time for that, but it might give you an opportunity to chat with a reporter or the editor.’
‘It’s going to take some ingenuity,’ said Maynard.
‘We’ll be in and out of here before anyone becomes suspicious,’ said Collins. As for Donald and me, we’ll work the library, post office, try to see the city manager. We’ll go as far as we can go. We should all talk to as many ordinary
citizens as we can. For example, at lunch question a waitress or two. Or stop some people in the street to get directions, and try to engage them in conversation. Let me see…’ He caught the time on his wristwatch. ‘It’s now one fourteen. We should all meet back here in my room at five o’clock. We can compare our findings, and possibly by then we will know the truth. Shall we go? You leave first, Mr Chief Justice.’
Maynard stood up, set his hat on his head, and went out the door. Five minutes later, Collins signaled Radenbaugh, and together they left the room for the elevator, to descend upon Argo City.
*
The city manager pushed his gold-rimmed spectacles higher on his nose, and his round, pink face above the bow tie beamed out at them across his empty desk top.
‘I’m afraid that’s about all the time I can give you, gentlemen.’ He indicated the electric clock on his desk. ‘Four fifteen. I have another appointment waiting.’
He pushed out from behind his desk, and circled it to lead Collins and Radenbaugh to the door.
‘Glad you could come by, gentlemen,’ the city manager said. ‘Hope I was of some help. Remember this, an attractive community leads to attractive people, and promotes peace. As I told you, and the sheriff will confirm this, we have a handful of misdemeanors in Argo City annually, but no felonies. We’ve had no public disorders in five years, since we instigated the local law against public gatherings. Our civil servants are all content and productive. There’s an occasional rotten apple, like that history teacher I mentioned, but we’re getting rid of her quickly, and no harm done.’ He opened the door to let them out. ‘Well, good luck with your remodeling and rebuilding job in Bisbee. If you do half as well as we’ve done, you’ll be proud of the result. When you see Mr Pitman at Phillips Industries, give him my personal regards.’
He watched Collins and Radenbaugh depart. When he turned back into his office, he found that his secretary had followed him.
Noticing her perplexed expression, the city manager asked, ‘What is it, Miss Hazeltine?’
‘The two gentlemen who just left… Did I hear you say they were here to get information to help them remodel and rebuild Bisbee?’
‘That’s right.’
‘But it must be wrong, sir. The city of Bisbee was thoroughly overhauled, replanned, and rebuilt just a few years ago. I have a file on it from the Bisbee Chamber of Commerce.’
Now it was the city manager who appeared thoroughly perplexed. ‘That can’t be.’
‘I’ll show you.’
Minutes later, the city manager had gone through the file of clippings, photographs, and maps of Bisbee, Arizona, all extolling the work just completed in rebuilding portions of the city.
He looked stricken. Immediately, he put through a person-to-person call to Mr Pitman of Phillips Industries in Bisbee.
After that, he phoned the sheriff.
‘Mac, two outsiders were just here posing as personnel from Phillips Ind
ustries - the Bisbee branch - asking all kinds of nosy questions. They had a letter from Pitman of Phillips Industries. He never heard of them. I don’t like this, Mac. Should we arrest them?’
‘No. Not until we find out who they are. You know our orders.’
‘But, Mac-‘
‘You leave it to me. I’ll get right in touch with Kiley. He’ll know what to do.’
*
On the second floor of Argo City High School, Miss Watkins, a prim, severe-looking middle-aged woman, had left her class to join Collins and Radenbaugh in the hallway.
‘The principal phoned. He said you were waiting to see me. What can I do for you?’
‘We heard you were fired, Miss Watkins,’ Collins began. ‘We wanted to ask you some questions.’
‘Who are you?’
‘We’re from the school board in Bisbee. We are here making a survey of the school system in Argo City. We were chatting with the city manager, when he mentioned your case. He said you got out of line -‘
‘Out of line?’ she repeated, puzzled. ‘I was doing my job. I was teaching American history,’
‘Anyway, they gave you notice.’
‘Yes, today’s my last day.’
‘Can you tell us what happened?’ asked Radenbaugh.
‘I’m almost ashamed to repeat it,’ she said. ‘It’s too ridiculous. My class was about to embark on a study of the Founding Fathers. To enliven the study, I remembered an old clipping I’d saved from a newspaper in Wyoming before I came here.’ She fished into her purse, drew out a yellowing clipping, and handed it to Collins. ‘I read it to my tenth-grade history class…’
Collins and Radenbaugh read the lead of the Associated Press story: ‘Only one person out of 50 approached on Miami streets by a reporter agreed to sign a typed copy of the Declaration of Independence. Two called it “Commie junk”, one threatened to call the police…’
Miss Watkins pointed to the last part of the story. ‘Other people who bothered to read the first three paragraphs of the Declaration of Independence had similar comments. One said, “This is the work of a raver.” Another said, “Somebody ought to tell the FBI about this sort of rubbish.” Still another called the author of the Declaration “A redneck revolutionist.” And you can see there, the reporter circulated a questionnaire containing an excerpt from the Declaration of Independence among 300 members of a young religious group, and 28 per cent answered that they thought the excerpt had been written by Lenin.’
(1976) The R Document Page 20
