Irving Wallace - The Man

To his utter surprise, Arthur Eaton did not move, but remained complacently settled in the Revels chair, casually ejecting his cigarette butt into the standing tray. Without bothering to look at the President, Eaton said, “Your bravado is admirable, Dilman. But do you honestly feel you are in a position, this minute, to ask anyone in your government to resign?”

Dilman, about to rise, held to the arms of his chair. “Do I feel I’m in a position to-?” He paused, then said slowly, “I feel I’m in a position to do whatever I believe to be right.”

As he absently examined his silver cigarette holder, the Secretary of State spoke. “I have been assigned to tell you-I find it painful, but no less my duty-that you are the one who is no longer wanted in our government. For many hours now, all through last night, the leaders of the House of Representatives and the Senate and your Party have been meeting to weigh the evidence they have uncovered about you. They have agreed, unanimously, that you are dangerously incompetent, and consequently unsuited for the high office accidentally thrust upon you, and that your continuing services are a detriment to the future of the United States.”

Eaton stared at Dilman.

“They desire to impeach you for high crimes and misdemeanors in office. Because I feel that such a method of publicly disgracing you and removing you from the Presidency is abhorrent, I have prevailed upon them-it was not easy, but I prevailed upon them-to accept a more moderate means of disposing of you. They would prefer, and I would prefer, that you do what is necessary to be done as a gentleman would, do what you so childishly requested of me earlier, and that is, tender your resignation immediately, for reasons of disability brought on by ill health. However, I was able to foresee that even such a natural solution might antagonize you, and understandably-that is, embarrass you and make you lose face before your own people. As a consequence, I was able to convince Miller, Hankins, Selander, Wickland, Noyes, all of them, that there was yet a third course. They do not like its moderation, any more than I like the extremism of their course of impeachment. Yet they will go along with me, if you are tractable.”

He paused, then continued. “The plan is that in the next few weeks, you fall ill, become more and more confined to your White House bedroom, and as the months pass, your disability becomes permanent. As you recover from this disability, perhaps a severe coronary, to which we can arrange that a committee of physicians attests, those of us who have been your assistants will continue to conduct the business of the executive branch in your name. You will remain President in name only, of course, as were Woodrow Wilson and Eisenhower when they were invalided. You may sign the documents that require your signature, but you will leave the actual performance of your duties to your committee of successors in the Cabinet. I find this solution simple, orderly, completely sensible-and in the best interests of the country. In return, of course, you have our pledge that the Articles of Impeachment in our possession will never be made public against you. Well, now, Dilman, there you have it.”

Douglass Dilman had listened to this plan unfold as if helplessly caught up in a mad nightmare. And emerging from it now, finding himself face to face with an actual human being who had spoken these fantastic words as if they were ordinary words, he was for seconds too stunned by the reality to speak.

But then the full impact of what had occurred hit him, and he felt the blood rushing through him and felt the pounding beneath his chest and temples. The effrontery of the proposition, the degrading insult of it, at last transformed his shock into rage.

He stared at his black hands knotted together on the Buchanan desk, watched with fascination their trembling. Never in his entire life had he suffered such a monstrous attempt to humiliate him. As a Negro, he was a scarred veteran of white men’s jeers and ridicule, blasphemy and vilification. Yet now he could conjure up no agonized instance out of his past, from childhood to manhood, not even that revolting occasion on his honeymoon with Aldora, when he had been treated so inhumanly.

As his fury rose, and his head pulsated, he wanted to grab the heavy inkwell from his desk and fling it at Eaton’s face. Or strangle him, strangle him until he admitted indecency and confessed shame.

But then, seeking an ally to justify his right to violence, he remembered Nat Abrahams, and knew that Nat would restrain him, remind him that knocking someone down solved nothing except the question of which was the more muscular, and justice would not be served. What had this monster Eaton and his so-called cabal, what had they threatened him with-yes, impeachment for high crimes and misdemeanors, unless he crept into an invalid’s bed with a feigned disability for the rest of the term and allowed them as palace conspirators to run the country their way. How had that Sally put it last night? Two-legged beings, yes, that’s what they wanted on the premises. And anything lower than that they wanted kept in its place leashed and muzzled, like a bothersome house pet, tucked into the doghouse where its bark could not be heard, while two-legged men kept the house clean and in order. They wanted Eaton, and Eaton wanted Eaton, to run a comfortable white country, and comfortable white world, for privileged, superior white people, cynically bribing with Federal charities the susceptible minorities at home, cynically betraying through lies and peace-bartering the helpless small nations abroad.

That they felt they could accomplish this, that they believed he would readily and gratefully acquiesce to their offer, was what astounded and infuriated him. Desperately he tried to think with Nat’s mind. Obviously, they were confident because they believed they had a club over him. If he would not accede without resistance, they would employ legal force. Nat’s mind inquired: What legal force do they possess, Doug? What case can they build against you? Either they have something or they have nothing, and if you know they have nothing, then they are bluffing you, trying to intimidate you, scare you out. Nat’s mind instructed: Call their bluff, Doug, call it, and then decide.

It required his last powers of restraint to exercise this control. All right, Nat, I’ll try.

He saw Eaton placidly waiting for his reply.

Dilman said, “Eaton, I don’t know where, not even in stories about Central American politics, I ever heard a more bizarre or outlandish proposition. You have it all figured out, have you? I’m put away, and you play President. I’m to cooperate with you in this-this palace revolution, and if I refuse, you indict me for high crimes and misdemeanors, and then you try me and then you convict and remove me. But first, you kindly offer me the choice of abdication and self-exile.”

“If you prefer to put it that way, that’s right,” said Eaton agreeably.

“Well, I’ll tell you what, Eaton-I think you’re bluffing. I don’t think you or your ambitious crowd have a single shred of evidence against me, not one thing, that would stand up and convince a majority of the 448 sworn members of the House of Representatives to send Articles of Impeachment to the Senate. Unless you can-”

“One moment, Dilman.” Eaton uncrossed his legs and sat straight. “If it requires this to make you realize that we are dead serious, that your situation is hopeless, then you should see it.”

He extracted three folded sheets of yellow foolscap from his inside coat pocket, elaborately unfolded them, patted them straight, half rose, and dropped them on the desk in front of Dilman. He fell back into the Revels chair. From beneath hooded eyelids, he kept his gaze on the President.