Irving Wallace - The Man

“You don’t have to read the law to me, Kemmler,” Dilman broke in. “I voted for it in the Senate. I just don’t see how the Subversive Activities Control Act can be applied to the Turnerites. They don’t-”

“We can pin a Communist Front tag on the Turnerites and make it stick!” Kemmler exclaimed triumphantly.

“The Turnerites-Communist?” said Dilman with disbelief. “Come, now. I know you’re investigating that newspaper scoop about one of the Turnerite directors-whatever his name-Valetti, yes-being a Red, but-”

Kemmler shoved his face almost into Dilman’s own. “We have investigated Frank Valetti. He’s been a Communist Party member for years, and he still is. He is also Hurley’s second-in-command. That’s point one. And here’s point two, the clincher. Over in Justice we wondered where the Turnerites were getting their money. Who was financing them? Either they were being kept in business by the Crispus Society, which I doubted, or by the Communist Party. Well, we’re now satisfied that Valetti has been carrying money from the Commies to the Turnerites.”

Dilman shook his head vigorously. “I’m not satisfied. It sounds flaky. Accepting the fact that a member of the Turnerite leadership is a Communist is one thing, but proving the Turnerites, as a group, are part of a conspiracy to overthrow the government-I don’t think anyone will buy that.”

“You don’t?” Clay Kemmler was obviously indignant. “Mr. President, forgive me, but your people have been wide-open to Communist manipulation for years. Remember what J. Edgar Hoover said years ago? He said the Communists were trying to divide and weaken America from within. He said the Communists were trying to exploit misunderstandings and take advantage of areas of dissension and unrest in this country. He said, ‘This is especially true in the intense civil rights movement, for America’s twenty million Negroes and all others engaged in this struggle are a major target for Communist propaganda and subversion.’ Well, okay, that’s what is going on right now. Valetti and the Commies are trying to use the Turnerites for their own ends, and Hurley and the Turnerites are fanatic enough to accept anyone’s help to achieve their goals.”

Dilman stared at Kemmler. “You still haven’t proved that the Turnerites are being financed with Communist funds.”

“We have a dossier a mile high on Valetti, Mr. President. Here’s an unskilled man, whose education ended with grammar school, banking a fantastic yearly income. From whom? From registered Communists, that’s who. And no sooner does Valetti deposit this money than out it goes in big cash lumps. Where does it go? Do I have to spell it out? Our file is wide-open to you.”

Dilman gripped the arms of his big green chair and heaved himself to his feet. He studied Kemmler a moment, and then left his desk, circling the office. He knew that the three of them were watching him, waiting for him to speak. He tried to think. Desperately he tried to sublimate his feelings as a Negro and coolly judge what he had heard and what was wanted from him, by applying his critical faculty as a onetime practicing attorney-at-law.

At last he faced them, “Gentlemen, this much I know now-I don’t intend to do anything rash, anything I’ll regret later. Ever since the stronger Subversive Activities Control Act has been in effect, there have been five hundred specific organizations posted for public notice on the Justice Department’s questionable list. To my knowledge, not one has ever been prosecuted and disbanded under the act. Is that correct?”

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean-” Kemmler began.

“It doesn’t mean such banning can’t be done or shouldn’t be done,” said Dilman. “When the safety of the country is at stake, and the enemy within is proved guilty, it will be done. I remind you, Mr. Attorney General, I’ve got a law degree, as you have, and I tell you I am not satisfied that we possess sufficient evidence to invoke the Subversive Control Act now against the Turnerites. Until I know beyond a shadow of doubt that Hurley and the Turnerites, as a group, are responsible for that kidnaping of Gage, and until I am certain that they are Communist-financed, I cannot restrict, ban, or dissolve them.”

Kemmler was unable to conceal his dismay. “But, Mr. President-you’ve got to do something.”

Dilman had started for his desk. “I intend to. I want to satisfy myself on one question. And then I will do something.”

He dialed Edna Foster, and requested her to put through a call to the Reverend Paul Spinger at the Crispus Society Building. Standing, telephone in hand, he suggested that the others make themselves comfortable. Talley and Flannery retreated to the sofas, but Clay Kemmler refused to sit. He went to the French doors and glumly looked out at the south lawn.

In less than a minute, the Reverend Spinger’s concerned voice greeted Dilman.

“Reverend,” Dilman said into the mouthpiece, “have you heard what’s happened down in Hattiesburg?”

“Yes, Mr. President, it’s dreadful. Those irresponsible and ornery gangsters couldn’t have done a greater disservice to our cause.”

“I agree with you, Reverend. Now I’ll tell you why I’m calling. I have here in the office with me the Attorney General, as well as Governor Talley, and Mr. Flannery. We’ve been discussing the abduction, and the possible repercussions it will have. We must be prepared to act. Reverend, do you consider the kidnaping as something done by an isolated bunch of hotheads or as something instigated by Hurley and his Turnerites?”

“Mr. President, I can’t say. Certainly we have no information here, one way or the other.”

“All right, you don’t know.” Dilman looked over his shoulder at Kemmler, whose back was still to him. “Reverend Spinger, we’ve touched upon this matter many times, but I have never put the question directly to you. Now I am going to do so, and do so officially.” He could see Kemmler turning to catch every word. Dilman concentrated on the telephone. “Since many Crispus Society members left you to form the Turnerites, it is imperative that we know what ties you have, if any, with the Turnerites. I must-”

“None, Doug, you know that.” Dilman could detect the fervent emotion in Spinger’s voice, as the clergyman went on. “We disapprove of Hurley, his threats, his inciting activities, just as he and his group disapprove of us, of our adherence to legal procedure, our qualified support of the Minorities Rehabilitation Program, our-”

“Then, Reverend, you disavow any ties with the Turnerites. Two final questions. Has your organization now, or at any time, by any means, ever financed the Turnerites?”

“The answer, Doug, is an unequivocal no. Not now, not before, never.”

“Never. Very well. Then the second question. Do you have any information as to who is financing Hurley’s group?”

“I have no factual information, Mr. President,” replied Spinger, more controlled. “There’s been some hearsay-you know, Valetti, the-”

“I’m not interested in hearsay, Reverend.” He paused, then asked, “Have you ever met Jefferson Hurley? Do you know him?”

“I’ve appeared on several speaking platforms with him, at one or two rallies, on a television show once, that’s the extent of it.”

“Does he have a fairly high regard for you, Reverend?”

Spinger grunted. “He thinks I’m a doddering and reactionary has-been who ought to have been interred long ago.”

“I see,” Dilman said. “Would Hurley speak to you if you requested a meeting?”

“I don’t know why not… yes, I think he would.”

“Very well, Reverend Spinger, I’ll tell you what we’re up to, here. When the news of the kidnaping gets out today, we expect an uproar, and considerable unrest and agitation. Based on some evidence in the hands of the Justice Department, I have been asked to outlaw the Turnerites-”