William Boyd - The New Confessions

“They call masses of people. Hundreds. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

I saw Monika’s appearance on television. It looked like an enormous press conference: microphones, TV cameras, lights, a crowd of about four hundred people. Monika looked marvelous. She denied everything and seemed to have an easy time. Ernest admitted that he had been in the Communist party in Germany before World War II but insisted that since then he had utterly repudiated everything it stood for and was now staunchly and proudly American. Werner Hitzig took the Fifth.

Two days later I was lugging groceries from a supermarket to my car when I heard a hoarse stage whisper.

“ Mr. Todd. ”

I looked round. It was Page Farrier, crouched behind a Chrysler. He pointed at an open-air hot dog stand a couple of hundred yards away.

“ See you there. Ten minutes. ”

Page arrived eventually, with a caution that would have done credit to a commando behind enemy lines. I had seen him regularly over the intervening years. He picked up my scripts for Eddie and delivered payment in cash. I knew him well. He sat down. I had ordered him a Dr Pepper and a chili dog. I knew he liked them.

“Ah, no thanks, Mr. Todd. Really, I can’t eat.”

“How’s Brooke [his wife]? Rockwell and Stockyard [his children]?”

“Stockard. Fine, fine. Yes. Fine, all fine.”

“Good. What’s up?”

“You’ve been named. In executive session.”

“ What? Who by, for Christ’s sake?”

“Some people called Monika Alt and Ernest Cooper.”

“What did they say?”

He opened a notebook. “That you were a member of a revolutionary Communist cell in Berlin in the twenties. That you were a member of the Santa Monica chapter of the Hollywood Anti-Nazi League in the thirties. That you consorted with subversives in Mexico in 1939.” Page looked shocked. “This is much worse than last time,” he said. “They’re going to subpoena you again. This time it will be Washington, the full committee, open session. The works.”

“God.” I felt very tired. “What should I do?”

Page cleared his throat. “Well, with the open session you’ve got three choices. Plead the First and go to prison for contempt. Plead the Fifth and effectively admit your guilt. And you get on the MPAA blacklist. Or, three, name names. Tell them all the Communists and ex-Communists you know. You get cleared and you can work.” He paused, and popped a gherkin from his plate into his mouth. “You see,” he said munching, “the ultimate test of a witness is not whether he lies or whether he tells the truth. It’s the extent to which he cooperates with the committee. And the only way to do that is inform.”

“So what do you suggest I do?”

“Well … name names. Everyone’s doing it. Look, even your friends have named you.” He gave a puzzled smiled. “I tell you, people are naming their family, their friends, their colleagues. Anything to get off the list.” He looked at me worriedly. “But in your case, Mr. Todd …”

“Take the Fifth?”

“Yes.”

“What do I risk?”

“They might deport you. But I doubt it, because you’re British.”

I sat in silence for a while. Page began to nibble at his chili dog.

“Terrible times we live in, Mr. Todd,” he said. “I know there’s going to be a nuclear war — an atomic bomb war — for sure. In the next two, three years. There has to be.”

“Surely not.”

“Yes. Oh yes. Without any doubt. I’m absolutely certain.”

“But you can’t be worrying about that?”

“But what about these camps they’ve got ready for subversives? They’re getting ready for a war.”

“Nonsense.”

“No. The McCarran Act. All subversives are going to be held in concentration camps. Why pass the act if nothing’s going to happen?”

“Me included, no doubt. Relax, Page, for God’s sake. Do yourself a favor. And listen, you don’t need to come with me to Washington. I can plead the Fifth on my own.” I stood up. “Send me your bill.” I held out my hand. “See you soon, Page.”

“ Don’t shake my hand. Don’t . Just sorta wave casually.…” He gave me a wry smile.

I waved casually and left.

BRAYFIELD: Todd, you got your nose against the penitentiary gates! I warn you!

TODD: The Fifth Amendment allows—

BRAYFIELD: This is a Communist party card issued to John James Todd in Berlin, Germany, 1926—

TODD: It is a patent forgery.

BRAYFIELD: The next time you refuse I’m going to call a marshal and have you sent to jail!

CHAIRMAN: Representative Brayfield, please.

BRAYFIELD: I apologize.… I put it to you, Mr. Todd, that your last film, The Equalizer , was un-American.

TODD: It’s pro-American.

BRAYFIELD: You denigrate one of America’s folk heroes, Billy the Kid.

TODD: Billy the Kid was a thief and a murderer. The hero of my film is a law enforcer, like Mr. Hoover, Sherriff Pat Garrett. [Muttering among the representatives.]

TODD: May I ask if Representative Brayfield has seen the film?

BRAYFIELD: No, I have not.… I don’t need to see pornography to know what it is. What nationality are you, Mr. Todd?

TODD: I’m British.

BRAYFIELD: How long have you lived in the United States?

TODD: Since 1937, off and on. I made two visits to Europe. One in World War II when I was a war correspondent for America—

BRAYFIELD: Why have you never applied for citizenship? You were married to an American, were you not?

TODD: Yes, but I’m British. There was no need—

BRAYFIELD: Well, Mr. Todd, I’m going to do everything in my power to get you sent back there!

The klieg lights for the TV cameras made Brayfield sweat more than ever. On the desk in front of me were seven microphones. Three TV cameras were ranged to survey the scene. From time to time flashbulbs flared from the press gallery. We were in the Caucus Room of the Old House Office Building, Washington, D.C. It could seat four hundred people. Today it was almost empty. I noticed Investigators Seager and Bonty up at the back. Bonty gave me a wave. It had to be said that the interrogation of John James Todd did not draw the crowds. I was no star. Brayfield was no Torquemada.

I had been before the committee for forty minutes. Ninety percent of the questions had come from Brayfield. I had stonewalled with blunt persistence, taking the Fifth Amendment whenever I felt like it. We paused now, while Brayfield blew his nose with his customary ferocity, as if he were trying to make his eyeballs bounce onto the desk in front of him. True to form, he scrutinized his handkerchief for bits of expressed brain. The other representatives on the committee (I forget their names, an undistinguished bunch of second-rate opportunists eager for the limelight) looked at each other with evident distaste. I had felt nervous, but now I was possessed by an angry calm. Brayfield was astonishingly well informed about me, and this — paradoxically — abated my concern. I was not a “subversive,” I was the victim of a vengeful and elaborate plot, and Brayfield, I was sure, was in it up to his neck.

REPRESENTATIVE EAMES: Mr. Todd, ah … do you know the names of any members of the Communist party, and if so are you prepared to, would you volunteer them to this committee? In executive session, of course.

TODD: Well, I volunteer to name one dangerous fanatic who is desperately trying to pervert the course of justice and undermine the U.S. Constitution. And I’m prepared to name him in open court.

EAMES: I don’t think we—

CHAIRMAN: Really? And who is that?

TODD: Representative Byron Brayfield! That man is waging a personal vendetta against me!