Irving Wallace - The Man

He could see Sue’s wondering eyes, their gravity contradicting the curved smile of her lips, following him to the sofa.

He sat on the sofa, fingers interlocked between his long legs, chewing the corner of a lip, looking past the pen and contracts.

“Well, Nat,” said Gorden Oliver with hearty cheerfulness, “let’s get the formalities over with-and let me have the honor of taking one of the richest attorneys in America out on the town!”

Abrahams hardly heard him. His gaze had gone to Sue and fixed upon her. He said, “That was the President on the phone.”

“Doug Dilman?” she said with surprise. “I thought he was still off in-?”

“He just flew back,” Abrahams said. “He’s decided to fight them. He’s decided to go on trial in the Senate and defend himself.”

“Oh, no,” said Sue with a groan. “After that terrible impeachment? He hasn’t a chance, Nat. I hope you didn’t encourage him. I can’t understand it. Why, the rumor around town was that he’d resign rather than-”

Abrahams’ eyes stayed fixed on his wife. “He’s not quitting, he’s fighting.” He hesitated, inhaled, and then he said, “Sue, he has asked me to take over his legal defense before the United States Senate.”

“You?” Her hand had gone to her mouth. The fun and frivolity had disappeared from her eyes. “But, Nat, how-? What did you tell him?”

“He wouldn’t let me give him a yes or no right off. You know Doug. You know how sensitive he is, how reluctant he is to make demands on anyone, or ask a favor, or impose on anyone. It took him all the way from Sioux City to here, and then a couple of hours more, to get up the nerve to-to lift the phone to tell me he would stand trial, and explain his problem. Even then he didn’t ask me right out. He said he desperately needed the best attorney in the country-preferably me, but if it couldn’t be me, then anyone I might suggest. I suspect he must have been awfully scared and-and lonely-after making his decision-to call me at all… No, he wouldn’t let me give him an answer. He asked me to give it some thought, and call him soon as I could, and if my answer was no, he’d understand, because he knows how tied up I’m going to be. So I said I’d get back to him later this evening. That’s the gist of it, Sue. That’s it.”

Abrahams became conscious of the third person in the living room. The New England lobbyist’s expression had lost its bluff cheerfulness and had become intent.

Abrahams decided to bring Oliver into it. “Of course, Gorden, if I did this for the President, I’d need a short leave of absence to-”

“ If you did this?” interrupted Oliver, his face a portrait of incredulity. “You’re kidding me, Nat, aren’t you?”

“I’m not kidding you or anyone,” said Abrahams. “I’m thinking out loud. I said if I represented the President in this impeachement trial, I’d-”

“Nat, whoa, wait a minute, wait a minute.” Gorden Oliver held the arms of his side chair and crouched forward. “You can’t be serious about giving Dilman’s request two seconds’ serious consideration?” He searched Abrahams’ face, then said, “Because-if you are-you’ll have to realize there’s only one answer you can give him, no matter who he is, no matter what your relationship with him has been. There’s only one answer, and that is no-no, you can’t do it, you wish you could for a friend, but first things first, and so sorry, old chap, no.”

Abrahams felt his back arch, but he controlled himself. “I think you’re a little out of line there, Gorden. I hadn’t said either that I would defend the President or that I would not. In fact, I haven’t made up my mind yet. But frankly, Gorden, I don’t feel anyone has the right to make up my mind for me.”

“Under the circumstances, maybe I can claim the right,” said Oliver. “Considering your situation-your obligations-I don’t think it’s proper for you even to entertain the idea of going before the Senate and the whole country on behalf of a politician whose behavior leaves much wanting and who is under criminal indictment. Chrissakes, Nat, of all things-I don’t want to quarrel with you-with anyone in Eagles-we’ve gotten along so perfectly up to now. Look, I can understand how this can be upsetting to you-the fact that he’s been your friend, throwing himself on your mercy, the fact that he’s an underdog, a Negro besides-but that’s all by the way. Life goes on. You’ve got to think of yourself first, and your first responsibility is to-to us-to Eagles.”

Abrahams knotted his fists more tightly in his lap. He measured his every word. “Maybe I don’t know all the facets of the position I’m to have with your corporation. Maybe there is more I should know, and right now. My responsibility to you in this matter-what is it, Gorden? You’d better-”

“Please, Nat,” Sue called out frantically, “don’t get so-”

“Come on, Gorden,” Abrahams persisted, “let’s have it. Lay it out on the table right beside those contracts. Tell me about the clauses that haven’t been written in.”

It fascinated Abrahams then to see Oliver’s face take on a look he had never seen there before. The winning charm, the howdy-hi geniality, had disappeared, and what remained was the granite rock bed beneath.

“We’re not keeping any secrets from you, Nat. By now, you should know all there is to know of what Avery Emmich expects of you. If you don’t, I’ll be only too glad to make it clearer.”

“Do just that,” said Abrahams. “Make it clearer why you won’t let me defend Doug Dilman, if I choose to do so.”

“All right, then, if you’re putting me on the spot, if you refuse to understand, if you want it the hard way, all right, there’s no time like the present.” Oliver glanced at Sue, with no smile, then pointed the unyielding face back to Abrahams. “Nat,” he said, “when I say I or we, I mean Emmich and Eagles, right? Okay. We contributed heavily to T. C.’s campaign and election, because we knew he was our friend. We paid for four years of his friendship, and we’ve received only two-thirds of our investment back. To put it crudely, we paid for a blue-chip stock, and then at the end it turned black, and, for our purposes, worthless. Dismayed as we were with the succession of Dilman to President, we were assured by Governor Talley that he was sensible and tractable and would stay in line. Then he double-crossed us. Talley said it would never happen, but it did. We wanted that Minorities Rehabilitation Bill passed into law. It was Emmich’s pet, important to all of us with Eagles. Instead, your Mr. Dilman wrecked it. We knew what we had on our hands then, someone we couldn’t trust or depend upon. Still, we figured that Congress would pass the bill a second time, over his veto, and we’d salvage something. We didn’t figure those labor unions would swing enough weight to force the bill back into committee for a rewrite, but they did, and there it’s bogged down, all because of Mr. Dilman. Well, look, Nat, I’ll tell you straight out, there’s nobody in the United States big enough, powerful enough, to cross Avery Emmich or work against the best interests of this country he loves. Emmich swore that if it was the last act he could perform as a patriotic citizen, he would get rid of Dilman and get the country back on the road to peace and prosperity. Well, I guess other equally patriotic citizens had the same feeling, because Emmich didn’t have to lift a finger. Our friends in Congress took matters into their own hands. The House impeached your bumbling friend, and the Senate will convict him. And we’ll be rid of him.”

Abrahams had listened, hand massaging his chest as if to keep the heavy beat inside from his wife’s ears.