(1976) The R Document

THE R DOCUMENT

Irving Wallace

Copyright Irving Wallace 1976

The visit had been quite unexpected - he had forgotten that he had made the appointment, had forgotten to cancel it after he’d promised to have dinner with the President - and now he was trying to get it over with as quickly and gracefully as possible.

Yet Christopher Collins didn’t want to hurt the man sitting opposite him, because this was apparently a nice man, sensible and sensitive and gentle, and at another time Collins would have enjoyed talking to him. But not now, not tonight, with the heap of papers on his desk still to be read, with the long, tense evening in the White House still before him.

He would have to handle this carefully, Collins decided. Not merely because he didn’t want to hurt the man’s feelings, but because he didn’t want to offend FBI Director Tynan. Obviously, the Director had encouraged this man. or had even told him to interview Collins for the autobiography of Tynan that they were writing together. No one was foolhardy enough to offend Tynan, and Collins, in his new position, least of all.

Collins’ eyes went to the portable cassette tape recorder his visitor had placed on the edge of the desk ten minutes ago. It was still recording, although nothing of consequence so far. Collins’ eyes rose to take in the older man, perhaps in his mid-fifties, who was studying his list of questions, aware that they were pressed for time and anxiously seeking the most telling and important questions on bis list.

Studying his visitor, Collins was suddenly struck by the incongruity of the man’s appearance and his name, and he was forced to smile. The man’s name didn’t fit his person at all. His name was Ishmael Young, and Collins wished there were time to ask him how he’d got such a name. Ishmael Young was a short, pudgy person, probably New England, possibly Presbyterian and Scottish (with a Jewish strain back somewhere), and he bulged out all over through his rumpled gray suit. He had odd tufts of hair along the sides of his head and a balding pate, and he pitifully combed his side hairs over the top of his head so that it looked as if he had sideburns on his scalp. He also had two chins and the makings of a third. His blubbery body filled and seemed to hang over the edges of the chair. He resembled a small beached whale. Collins decided that Tshmael’ might be appropriate after all.

Nor did he look in the least like a writer, Collins thought. Except for the horn-rimmed glasses that needed cleaning, and the charred brown briar pipe, he did not look like a writer at all. But then, right from the start he’d said he was a ghostwriter. And Collins had never met one of those before. Apparently a successful ghostwriter, too - one who had written books for a depraved actress, a black Olympics hero, a military genius. Collins tried to recall whether he had read any of the books. He knew that he hadn’t but that Karen probably had, and he would try to remember to ask her about them.

He realized now that Ishmael Young had lifted his head, shyly meeting his gaze, and was already posing his next question.

Listening to the question, Collins at once saw an out, a way to terminate his interview as quickly and gracefully as possible. It simply required honesty.

‘What do I think of Vernon T. Tynan?’ Collins said, repeating the question.

Yes. I mean, what’s your impression of him?’

Collins immediately thought of the physical Tynan: a blustering, braying Brobdingnagian of a being, and almost as legendary, with small squinting gimlet eyes in a small round head set atop a short thick neck on a brawny expanse of chest, a man almost as tall as himself, with a rasping voice. That picture of him was clear. But of the inner Tynan he knew next to nothing. He need only say so, honestly, and be done with it, and let Ishmael Young look elsewhere.

“Frankly, I don’t know Director Tynan very well. I haven’t had time to get to know him. I’ve been on this job just one week.’

You’ve been Attorney General just one week,’ said Young, correcting him nicely, ‘but you’ve been in the Department of Justice - according to my notes, you’ve been here almost eighteen months. As I understand it, you were Deputy Attorney General under the last Attorney General, Colonel Noah Baxter, for thirteen of those months.’

‘That’s true,’ admitted Collins. ‘But as Deputy Attorney General I saw Director Tynan very little. He’ll confirm that, if you ask him. It was Colonel Baxter who saw him, actually quite often. They were friends, after a fashion.’

Ishmael Young’s eyebrows went up a notch. ‘I didn’t know Director Tynan had any friends. At least that’s my feeling, from my talks with him. I thought only his assistant, Harry Adcock, was a close friend. And I sort of regarded that as mainly a business relationship.’

‘No,’ Collins insisted, ‘he was also close to Colonel Baxter, if he was close to anyone. Though I suppose you’re right in one way. Director Tynan is actually a loner. If you look back, I think you’ll find other FBI Directors have been loners. It’s in the nature of the job. Anyway, I never got to see him very much or to know him at all.’

The writer would not be put off. He removed the old pipe from his mouth and licked his lips. ‘But Mr Collins…’ He paused. ‘Is that right, the Mr, or should I call you Attorney General Collins, or maybe drop the Attorney and make it just General -‘

Collins smiled. ‘Mr Collins will do.’

‘Very well. What I was going to say was that after Col6nel Baxter suffered his stroke - that was five months ago - you were temporarily in charge here, unofficially the

head of Justice, until it was made official a week ago. As we all know, the FBI is under you. The Director of the FBI, Tynan, is your subordinate, so you’d have contact -‘

Collins was forced to laugh. ‘Director Tynan my subordinate? Mr Young, you’ve got a lot to learn.’

‘That’s really what I’m here for, Mr Collins,’ said Young earnestly. ‘I’m here to learn. I can’t ghostwrite an autobiography for the Director of the FBI without knowing his precise relationship with the Attorney General, with the President, with the CIA, with everyone in government. You might think I should ask the Director. I have, believe me. But he’s surprisingly vague about the governmental process, and his own place in it. There are certain things I can’t get clear from him. Not that he won’t tell me. It’s just that he’s not interested, and rather impatient. What he is interested in is talking about his exploits in the FBI under J. Edgar Hoover, and then his resignation and comeback. Well, I’m interested in those things too. They’re the meat of the book. But I’m also interested in where he stands - I mean, in relation to his colleagues - in the whole power structure.’

Collins made up his mind to be helpful, clarify this, even if it took a few minutes longer. ‘All right, Mr Young, let me level with you. It says in the Government Manual that the FBI Director is under the Attorney General. According to the book, that’s the way it is. But in fact, it’s not that way at all. According to Public Law No. 90-351, title VI, section 1101, the Attorney General doesn’t appoint the FBI Director, the President does, with the advice and consent of the Senate. While the FBI Director confers with me, consults with me, works with me, I don’t have ultimate authority over him. Again, the President does. The President alone can remove him without Senate approval. So except on paper, Director Tynan is not my subordinate. A man like Tynan, as you know by now, would be nobody’s subordinate. I’m sure that Tynan, like all FBI Directors, is aware that he has his job for life if he wants it, and regards all Attorneys General as mere transients. Therefore, to go back to your original question or questions, he hasn’t been working for me and I haven’t had that much contact with him - no, not even as Deputy Attorney General, when I was in charge here after

Colonel Baxter was taken to Bethesda Naval Medical Center. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful. In fact, I can’t imagine why Director Tynan sent you to see me.’

Young sat up slightly. ‘Oh, he didn’t. This was something I wanted to do on my own.’

Collins also moved his lank body up in his high-backed leather executive swivel chair. ‘Then that explains it.’ He felt relieved. He owed nothing to Director Tynan. He could cut the interview short without giving offense to Tynan. Still, as before, he wanted to be decent to Young. He wanted to throw him a bone, no matter how small, and send him off happy. ‘Anyway, to come to the point, you wanted to hear what I thought of Director Tynan for your book -‘

‘Not for my book,’ said Young hastily. ‘For Tynan’s book. It’ll be by Tynan. I’ve been trying to understand the framework around him, from those who work with him. Even if you don’t know him well, I was rather hoping -‘

‘All right, in the little time we have left, let me give you my impression of him,’ said Collins, searching for something bland and safe. ‘My impression of the Director - he’s plainly a man of action, a doer, a no-nonsense guy. He’s probably just right for his job.’

‘In what way?’

‘His job is investigating crime, investigating Federal violations. His job is digging up facts and reporting them. He doesn’t draw conclusions from his findings, doesn’t even make recommendations. My job is to do the rest, to do the prosecuting based on his findings.’

‘Then you’re the man of action,’ said Young.

Collins considered his interviewer with even more respect. ‘Not really,’ he said. ‘It may sound that way, but it doesn’t work that way. I’m strictly a lawyer among lawyers in Justice. We go the slow, careful route, Tynan and his agents do the direct, dangerous stuff. Now, for your purposes, my only other judgment of him is - well, when he gets into something, something he believes in, he won’t stop pushing for it. He’s very dogged, in the best way. Like the new 35th Amendment to the Constitution that’s out there for ratification. Once the President originated it, Tynan got right behind it -‘

Ishmael Young interrupted. ‘Mr Collins, the President didn’t originate the 35th Amendment. Director Tynan did.’

Startled, Collins stared at the writer. ‘Where did you get that idea?’

‘From the Director himself. He speaks of it as his baby.’

‘Whatever he thinks, it isn’t his. But what you’ve said makes my point exactly. When he believes in something passionately, he makes it his own. And now, indeed, he’s the main force behind the 35th Amendment. He’s as responsible as anyone, maybe more than anyone, for putting it over.’

‘It’s not been put over yet,’ said Young quietly. ‘Forgive me, but it’s not been ratified yet by three-fourths of the states.’

‘Well, it will be,’ said Collins, a trifle impatient at the digression. ‘Only two more states have to approve it.’

‘And there are only three to go.’

‘Two of the three are doing their final voting tonight. I think the 35th will be part of the Constitution tonight. However, that’s neither here nor there, except for Director Tynan’s role in putting it over.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Well, now, I think that’s about all -‘

‘Mr Collins, just one more thing, if I may…’

Collins looked up and observed the intent expression on his visitor’s face. He waited.

‘I - I know this has nothing to do with the interview,’ Young continued, ‘but I’m interested to know the answer.’ He swallowed, and then said, ‘Do you like that 35th Amendment, Mr Collins?’

Blinking, Collins was momentarily silent. The question had been unexpected. Moreover, he had never clearly answered it for anyone - not even for his wife Karen, or for himself. ‘Do I like it?’ he repeated slowly. ‘Not especially. Not really. In truth, I haven’t given it too much thought. I’ve been busy reorganizing. I’ve trusted the President and -and the Director -‘

‘But it has to do with you, with your Department, sir.’

Collins frowned. ‘I’m aware of that. Still, I think the President can handle it very well. Maybe I have some reservations about it. But I can’t suggest anything better.’ He realized that the gentle Mr Young was appearing less gentle

by the moment. He was tempted to ask him, and then did ask him, ‘Do you like it, Mr Young? Do you like the 35th Amendment?’

‘Strictly between us?’

‘Strictly.’

‘I hate it,’ said Young, flatly. ‘I hate anything that wipes out the Bill of Rights.’

“Well, that’s something of an overstatement, I’d say. The 35th is meant to modify, to supersede the Bill of Rights, but only under certain conditions, only in the event of extreme internal emergency that might paralyze or threaten to destroy the country. Obviously, we’re heading in that direction fast, and the 35th will give us something with which we can organize order out of chaos -‘

“It’ll give us repression. It’ll sacrifice liberties as the price of peace.’

Collins felt a trace of annoyance, and was determined to end the discussion. It seemed as if everyone knew what to do about everything, about every problem, until he had the chance to try to do it. ‘Okay, Mr Young. You know what’s going on out there in the streets. The worst crisis of crime and violence in our history. Take that attack on the White House by that organized gang of hoodlums two months ago. Bombing, machine-gunning - killing thirteen guards and Secret Service men, murdering seven helpless tourists, gutting the East Room - nobody’s done anything like that to the White House since the British sailors did it in 1814. But the British were our enemies then, and we were at war. This attack two months ago was done by Americans - by Americans. Nothing is safe. No one is safe. Did you see the TV news this morning? Or read your papers today?’