And along with Maynard, democracy, too, will belong to the ages, thought Collins. Dead. A relic of the past. Without Maynard, the wave of the future was the 35th Amendment - and Vernon T. Tynan - and the nation would be cast in his mold.
No sooner had he thought of Tynan than he heard Tynan’s name announced by the network’s White House correspondent.
‘… Vernon T. Tynan. We now take you to the office of the Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.’
Instantly, Tynan’s familiar small head and broad shoulders appeared on the screen. His seamy face was properly set in a look of grief and mourning. He began to read from a sheet of paper in his hand:
‘This brutal and senseless slaying of one of the nation’s outstanding humanitarians has been a loss that cannot be expressed in mere words. Chief Justice Maynard was the nation’s friend, my personal friend, a friend of truth and liberty. His loss has wounded America, but because of him America will become strong enough to survive and will survive all crime, all lawlessness, all violence. I am sure if Chief Justice Maynard were alive, he would want us to view this tragedy in a larger sense. This systematic decimation of our leaders and our citizenry must be brought to a stop, so that Americans can walk their streets and sleep in their beds in the full knowledge that they are safe and free.’
Tynan looked up into the camera, seeming to meet Collins’ eye as Collins’ glare met his.
Tynan cleared his throat. He resumed speaking.
‘Fortunately. Chief Justice Maynard’s vicious slaver did
not escape. He has met his own violent end. I have just been informed that this killer has been fully identified. His identity will be announced shortly by the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Suffice it to say, for now, the killer was a former convict, a man with a long arrest record, yet he was allowed to be free and roam our streets under the ambiguous and loose provisions of the Bill of Rights. Had the Bill of Rights been amended a month ago, this terrible murder might have been averted. While the 35th Amendment would never be put into effect except in the case of conspiracy and rebellion, its passage alone would engender a positive atmosphere that would relegate slayings like these to the past. Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve learned a lesson today, this day of grief. Let us work together, hand and hand, to make America secure and to keep America strong.’
Tynan’s face had left the screen, to be replaced by that of a reporter in the network’s Washington newsroom.
Ignoring the television set, Collins yanked his chair toward Radenbaugh. He was furious. ‘That bastard Tynan, how dare he? Did you hear him? Making hay for his goddam amendment before Maynard’s body is even cold.’
‘And twisting it around so that it sounds as if Maynard would actually have welcomed the 35th,’ said Radenbaugh. He pointed to the screen. ‘Look, I think they’re going to identify the killer.’
‘What difference now?’ said Collins. Nevertheless, he returned his attention to the television screen.
‘Yes, we have it,’ the newsman was saying, ‘the identity of the person who murdered Chief Justice Maynard. It has just been confirmed and released. The killer has been definitely identified as one Ramon Escobar, thirty-two years old, an American citizen of Cuban extraction, a resident of Miami, Florida. Here are photographs of him from the files of the FBI….’
Immediately, both a full-face and a profile shot of Ramon Escobar were flashed on the screen. The pictures revealed a swarthy, ugly young man with curly black hair, long sideburns, sunken cheeks, and the livid slash of a scar on his jawbone.
‘Oh, no!’ Radenbaugh gasped. “No…!’
Startled, Collins whirled toward him, in time to see Radenbaugh stagger to his feet. Radenbaugh’s eyes were wide, his features drained of blood, as he kept poking a finger toward the screen, trying to mouth something.
Confused, Collins came quickly to his feet in an attempt to calm his companion. The jutting finger Radenbaugh had been poking toward the screen had become part of a fist. Radenbaugh was shaking his fist at the screen.
The quavering words finally came bursting forth. ‘That’s him, Chris!’ Radenbaugh shouted. ‘That’s him! That’s the one!’
Collins grabbed Radenbaugh. ‘Donald, get hold of yourself - what is it?’
‘Look at him there, the man who killed Maynard! He’s the one I saw. Did you hear his name? Ramon Escobar. I heard it -I heard it on Fisher’s Island, outside Miami, that night. The face - it’s the same face, exactly, I recognize it -the man on Fisher’s Island - the one Vernon Tynan had me pass the $750,000 to - the same one, the one who took the three-quarters of a million from me. Chris, for God’s sake, do you know what this means?’
Ramon Escobar’s face had disappeared from the screen, to be replaced once more by that of the network newsman. Hastily, Collins crossed the study and shut off the television set. He turned around, shaken, remembering Radenbaugh’s story of his release from Lewisburg, of his recovering his million dollars from the Everglades, of his taking three-quarters of a million in a motorboat to Fisher’s Island to deliver it to the two men Tynan had designated to receive it.
Now Maynard’s murderer had proved to be one of those two.
‘Believe me, it’s the same man, Chris,’ Radenbaugh was saying. ‘It means Tynan wanted my money to get rid of Maynard. It means that he had me sprung from prison to get his hands on enough money to pay a professional assassin, money that couldn’t be traced, foolproof. Tynan engineered the murder. He was ready to go to any length to prevent
Maynard from killing the 35th, even to the length of killing Maynard himself.’
‘Stop it,’ Collins said sharply. ‘You can’t prove it.’
‘My God, man, what more proof do you need? I was there with Tynan when he made me the offer. He got me out of jail, got me a new identity, sent me to Miami and to Fisher’s Island, had me turn over three-quarters of a million to - to whom? To the very man who assassinated Chief Justice Maynard last night. What more proof do you need?’
Collins was trying to think, to sort it all out. ‘I don’t need more proof, Donald,’ he said. ‘I believe you. But what would anyone else believe?’
‘I can go to the police. I can tell them what happened. I can tell them I gave this killer the money on Tynan’s behalf.’
Collins shook his head. ‘It won’t work.’
“Why won’t it work? Harry Adcock knows the truth. Warden Jenkins knows the truth -‘
‘They won’t talk.’
Radenbaugh had Collins by the lapels of his coat. ‘Chris, listen. The police will believe me. I’m me. I was there on the island. We can get rid of Tynan. I can tell the whole truth.’
Collins removed the hands from his coat. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Donald Radenbaugh could tell the truth. But Donald Radenbaugh doesn’t exist - the witness doesn’t exist -‘
‘But I’m here!’
‘Sorry. Dorian Schiller is here. Donald Radenbaugh is dead. There isn’t a shred of evidence he’s alive. He just doesn’t exist’
Radenbaugh suddenly sagged. He finally understood. He looked at Collins helplessly. ‘I guess you’re right.’
As if transformed, infused with a new resolve, Collins came alive.
‘But I exist,’ he said. ‘I’m going directly to the President. Hearsay or not, I believe all you’ve told me, all I’ve learned for myself, and I’m going to lay it all out for the President. There’s simply too much to be ignored. He’s got to hear the facts - that the real lawlessnes and crimes in this country are being committed by Vernon T. Tynan. There’s no way the President can avoid facing the truth. Once he
knows, he’ll do what Chief Justice Maynard meant to do -
speak out to the public, disown Tynan, denounce the 35th
Amendment - and have it voted down once and for all. Pull
yourself together, Donald. Our bad dream is almost over.’
The President of the United States sat up straight in the black leather swivel chair behind the Buchanan desk in the O
val Office of the White House.
‘Remove him?’ he repeated with a slight rise in the inflection in his voice. ‘You want me to fire the Director of
the FBI?’
They had been seated here in the Oval Office - President Wadsworth behind his desk, Chris Collins in the black wooden pull-up chair beside the desk - for twenty minutes, talking. Or rather, Collins had been talking, and the President had been listening.
When Collins had applied for the appointment this morning, the President’s calendar had been full. Collins had invoked ‘emergency’, and the President had agreed to give him a half hour after lunch, at two o’clock.
From the moment that he had entered the Oval Office, Collins had ignored the amenities, had planted himself down across from the President and then plunged into his impassioned account. ‘I think you should know certain things that are going on behind your back, Mr President, horrendous things,’ Collins had begun, ‘and since no one else will speak to you of them, I think I’ll have to be the one to do so. It won’t be easy, but here goes.’
Then, almost in a monologue, Collins had recited the details from the
time of Colonel Baxter’s warning about The R Document to Donald Radenbaugh’s identification of Chief Justice Maynard’s slayer. He had spilled it out nonstop, with a trial lawyer’s clarity, omitting no detail.
He had concluded, ‘There can be no justification on earth for breaking the law to preserve the law. The Director has been the main mover in this. Based on the evidence I’ve just presented to you, Mr President, I think you have no choice but to remove him.’
‘Remove him?’ the President repeated. ‘You want me to fire the Director of the FBI?’
Yes, Mr President. You’ve got to get rid of Vernon T. Tynan. If not to punish him for his criminal actions, then to restore your leadership and safeguard the democratic process. While it will cost you the 35th Amendment, it will preserve the Constitution. And we can work out a better plan to guarantee law and order in this country, one based not on repression and potential tyranny, but on the improvement of the social and economic structure of our society. However, nothing is possible until Tynan goes.’
The President had remained remarkably unruffled throughout Collins’ recital. Except for smoothing his graying hair, rubbing his aquiline nose, cupping a hand over his receding jaw, he had listened quietly and without any display of emotion.
Now his features still remained phlegmatic. His only movement was to lift an ornate letter opener, absently weigh it in one hand, then put it back down on the desk.
He spoke again. ‘So you really think Director Tynan deserves to be fired?’
Collins could not be sure whether the President was coming over to his side or merely trying to probe deeper.
One last try, the clincher.
‘Absolutely,’ said Collins emphatically. ‘The grounds for dismissal are innumerable. Tynan should be removed for unlawful conspiracy, for misuse of his office in trying to get a bill passed that could invest him with superpower. He should be fired for blackmail and interference with due process. The only thing I’m not accusing him of is murder, because I can’t prove that. The rest is obvious. With his
removal - on whatever grounds you choose, based on the available evidence my office can give you overnight - the 35th will sink of its own accord. But actually, you might undo all the evil that Tynan has done to date by personally undertaking what Chief Justice Maynard had intended to do himself - by speaking out against the 35th and seeing that California votes it down. I don’t think that’ll be necessary after you’re rid of Tynan, but it would be a judicious act and gain you added respect.’
The President sat silently for a brief interval, seeming to contemplate all that he had heard. Quite unexpectedly, he lifted himself from his black leather chair, turned his back on Collins, carried his slight, erect frame to the left-hand window framed by green draperies, and stood there gazing out at the White House lawn and at the Rose Garden.
Collins sat taut, waiting. Mentally, he crossed his fingers. The jury on the Tynan case was out. Soon the verdict would be in. The right verdict would solve everything. Collins sat rigid and hoped.
After what seemed an interminable interval, the President stepped away from the window and started back toward his chair. He stopped behind his chair, set his arms lightly on top of it, laced his fingers together, and rested his eyes on Collins.
‘Well, now … ‘ he said. Then he continued, ‘I’ve been considering everything you’ve told me. I’ve been examining it closely. Let me tell you how it strikes me. Let me be as frank with you as you’ve been with me.’
Collins gave a short nod, and waited.
‘Your grounds for firing Director Tynan,’ the President said. ‘Chris, let’s try to be as objective as we can. You know the law better than any man. You’re the country’s first lawyer. You know a person is innocent until proved guilty. Theory, rumor, innuendo, suspicion, hearsay, deduction are not factual evidence or irrefutable proof. Your evidence is a tissue of talk, not facts.’
Collins came forward in his chair to interrupt, but the President held up the palms of both hands.
‘Wait, Chris,’ he said. ‘Let me go on. Let me say what
I want to say. What are the direct charges you raise against
Director Tynan? Let’s look at them. You have Tynan tampering with crime statistics in California. Can you prove it, really prove it? You have Tynan building internment camps across the nation. Can you prove it? Can you find me the agency constructing those camps? Can you show me evidence that the structures are meant for dissidents? You have Tynan making a deal with Radenbaugh, freeing this prisoner from Lewisburg, giving him another identity. Can you prove it? Can you prove the deal was made, that Tynan made it, that Radenbaugh is not dead as the prison announced? You have Tynan ordering laundered money to be passed on to Maynard’s murderer. Can you prove it? As you have admitted, you can’t prove it, can you? You have Tynan using the people of some company town in Arizona as guinea pigs for the 35th Amendment. Can you prove it? We know Tynan has been investigating that town, but can you prove that he was using it instead for some nefarious purpose? You have Tynan as the Professor Moriarty of some sinister plot embodied in something, in some plan, called The R Document. Can you prove it? Can you say you heard this from Colonel Baxter personally? Can you prove this document exists? Or if it exists, that it is dangerous? Can you tell me what it is and where it is?’
President Wadsworth caught his breath, and then went on.
‘Chris, what have you got but a fabric sewn together from fanciful speculations and conjecture? Based on these charges, lacking irrefutable evidence, you want me to fire the Director of the FBI, one of the most efficient and popular men in the country? Chris, have you lost your mind? Fire Tynan? For what? Your case is impossible, Chris, impossible.’
Collins had recoiled during the last and sat defeated, deflated. He had expected some doubts from the President, some discussion, but not an outright attack on his case.
Desperately, he tried to rally. ‘Mr President, proof comes in many forms. I know I could come up with proof that would satisfy you, given time. But we have no time. Get Tynan out of the way first. He’s dangerous. We can back up criminal charges against him later. I tell you, from what
I’ve heard and witnessed, Tynan will do anything, absolutely anything, to get rid of the Bill of Rights, to get the 35th passed into law, to destroy this democracy…’
The President’s face had gone frosty. I also want the 35th passed,’ he said. ‘Does that say I want to destroy this democracy?’
‘No, of course not, Mr President,’ Collins conceded hastily. ‘I’m not implying that everyone who supports the 35th is against a democratic government. The fact is, I supported it for a while, went along, publicly. As far as the people out there are concerned, I still support it. I’ve never denounced it publicly, and don’t intend to, as long as I’m part of this Administration.’
&
nbsp; The President softened slightly. ‘I’m glad to hear that, Chris. I’m glad you have some sense of loyalty.’
‘I certainly have,’ said Collins. ‘The question is - does Tynan have the same loyalty? It goes beyond that. It goes to a sense of what democracy stands for. You and I know. Does Tynan? In our hands, the 35th would never be misused. But in his hands… ?’
‘There is not one bit of evidence that he would interpret the law any differently than you and I.’
‘In the light of all that I’ve told you, can you say that? Even if I can’t prove everything, you’ve certainly got to admit-‘
‘It’s no use, Chris,’ the President broke in. He came around his chair and settled into it with an air of finality. ‘Chris, I’m sorry. I respect facts. I listen to facts. Based on what you’ve told me, I don’t find the facts favoring your side. I don’t see sufficient grounds for dismissing Tynan. Make an effort to see it from my point of view. Tynan’s reputation as a patriot is impeccable. Removing him on such flimsy evidence would be like arresting George Washington for creating disorder or tossing Barbara Frietchie in jail for subversion. Firing him would be a disservice to the country, and be political suicide for me as well. The public trusts Tynan. People believe in him -‘
‘Do you?’ Collins demanded to know. ‘Do you believe in him?’
‘Why not?’ countered the President. ‘I’ve never found
him less than cooperative. He’s been one of our best public servants. Occasionally, he’s inclined to be overzealous, to cut corners in his eagerness to get things accomplished. But when all is said and done -‘
‘You intend to keep him and his 35th Amendment,’ said Collins. ‘Nothing I can say will dissuade you. You’re determined to stand with him.’
‘Yes,’ said the President, flatly. I have no other course, Chris.’
‘Then I have no other course either, Mr President,’ said Collins, rising slowly to his feet. ‘If you are going to keep Tynan, then you can’t keep me. I have no choice but to resign as Attorney General. I’ll go back to my office now and write a formal letter of resignation - and spend every hour of the next twenty-four fighting that amendment in the California Assembly, and if I fail there, I’ll spend every hour I have left fighting it in the California Senate, if it comes to that.’
(1976) The R Document Page 25
