Irving Wallace - The Man

“Yes, I did.”

“You tried to get her into the White House, too, didn’t you? You invited your lady friend to come to the State Dinner for President Amboko of Baraza, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Sounds like a close enough relationship to me. And the two of you, when you were together, you had your long chatty talks, didn’t you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Seeing her after you became President, talking to her on the telephone, you told her what it was like to be President, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And she, working for the Communist Front Vaduz Exporters, she talked about her boss and her work sometimes, too, didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“So you two, holding hands, hugging and kissing, you two talked about your jobs. You talked about what it was like being President with all the problems of that office, and she, she talked about what it was like being at work for a spying company fronting for the Soviet Union, but despite all the talk and talk, and emotional involvement, you kept your lips sealed when it came to what was top-secret that you knew about as President. True?”

“Yes, that is true.”

“And I say, and the House says, untrue- un-true! No human on earth can be so long intimate with a single lady, being single himself, and being close to her flesh, and whispering and baring every emotion, and still control and shut off certain things while saying others, as any psychologist on earth will tell you. I’m not saying you set out with your mind determined on committing treason. I’m saying you are a frail human, and a frail human person, be he Nigra or white, suffers from his flesh being weak, and I’m saying from the evidence on hand that you committed inadvertent treason, but serious, real treason nevertheless, against the flag and the country. But you alone will not admit to your flesh being weak. You will not admit your sin.”

“There is nothing to admit to, Mr. Manager. The charge is rigged up from hearsay, deductions, suppositions, wishes, an effort to make two and two add up to five, but it is unsubstantiated by factual evidence. Because no such evidence exists.”

“There is evidence enough, Mr. Witness, and none of this protesting too much will pull the wool over the eyes of the able, learned, honorable members of the Senate. There is evidence for Article I as there is evidence for Article III. Let’s take the charge of your proved record of habitual intoxication. You deny it. Your lady friend denies it. Two impartial sources like you two deny it. But the documents, Mr. President, the exhibit documents attest and affirm to the truth of it. Were you or were you not, in Springfield, Illinois, once a registered occupant in a sanitarium for alcoholics?”

“I was, yes.”

“Along with your poor deceased wife?”

“Yes.”

“You were a patient there?”

“No, I was not. My wife was a patient. I was a guest. I checked in there to live with her, be beside her, help her. I was not a patient. I was a resident guest.”

“The photostatic evidence introduced as exhibits show clearly, irrefutably, you were a registered ‘patient,’ meaning, by definition, one who was under treatment or care by a physician, in this case for alcoholism.”

“I don’t care how I was registered. I know why I was there.”

“Mr. President, I assure you the public cares and the Senate cares how you were registered. There is no disgrace in having been registered for alcoholic cure, once the cure has been successful and a person’s health, good sense, and dignity restored. But when a person has attempted to be cured, and not succeeded, has continued to be the servant of this debilitating master, and raged through the President’s House of this glorious nation in a condition such as Senator Watson’s daughter has described, I say the public must care and the Senate must care, and the addict must be curbed and quarantined, if not for his own sake, then for the survival of the nation entrusted to his leadership. Enough! It is time we discuss a charge no less evil, and far more shocking… Mr. President, the House of Representatives has charged you with improper assault upon the person of your helpless young social secretary, Miss Watson. The lady has confirmed, under oath, your misbehavior. Miss Watson, the only daughter of a great and senior Senator whose adherence to truth is a byword in the land, Miss Watson was raised up to gracious ladyhood under the guidance of this noble Senator. Miss Watson, I repeat, confirms the charge of your scandalous behavior. You deny it. Whom are we to believe? What are we to believe?… Mr. President-answer this, sir-can we believe that you and Miss Watson were alone together in the Lincoln Bedroom of the White House on the night in question? Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Can we believe that you had her alone in there, were alone with her, the entire period of time?”

“Yes.”

“You did not send for the valet or housekeeper? You remained alone with Miss Watson?”

“Yes. Because of Miss Watson’s unsettled state, I rang for no one. I still hoped to protect her good name, for her father’s sake as well as her own.”

“You claim she invaded your room, yet you summoned no one. I consider that highly unnatural and abnormal. On the other hand, had you brought her to your room, kept her there, your reluctance to call for outside assistance would be more understandable. In any event, no third party was summoned, no third party intruded, and there were the two of you behind closed doors and four walls. That is correct, is it not?”

“I have already agreed that is correct-the fact of it, not the implication.”

“Then, Mr. President, what followed, the truth of it, plainly comes down to our acceptance of Miss Watson’s word on what took place or your own. Whose word shall we believe? Shall we believe the word of a naïve, unworldly young lady, educated, of unblemished reputation, the only child reared to the blossom of youthful maturity by the most revered legislator in the land, who has nothing to gain from the unpleasant ordeal of giving testimony here today? Or shall we believe the word of a witness who, according to the serious indictment voted by the House of Representatives, had secret dealings with a gang of Nigras bent on mongrelizing and weakening the nation, who kept intimate company with an unmarried female friend for half a decade, who was frequently under the unholy influence of alcoholic spirits? Mr. Witness, whose word shall it be? This you cannot answer, nor can I. We will let our peers, dedicated and objective men, steeped in human insight, decide this question. And for ourselves, we will undertake to discuss the final Article of Impeachment… Mr. Witness, the morning after our beloved T. C.’s tragic death, upon your assumption of the Presidency, you did meet with the members of the Cabinet?”

“I did.”

“Mr. Secretary of State Arthur Eaton was, by rank, the first member of that Cabinet, was he not?”

“He was.”

“Was the purpose of this meeting a desire, on your part, to inform the Cabinet members to stay on their jobs? In fact, did you request them to stay on and serve you as they served T. C.?”

“I did.”

“And the Secretary of State, and the other members, they agreed to remain at their posts?”

“They did.”

“Why did you desire Secretary of State Eaton to continue as the head of the Department of State and as the leading member of your Cabinet?”

“At the time, I thought him competent in his office and useful to the government. There was no reason to replace Eaton or anyone else under the circumstances.”

“But after several months, you found reason to fire your Secretary of State, contrary to the law of the land, and to replace him with an underling?”