The prodigal spy

Larry smiled back and raised his glass appreciatively. His father, seeming agitated, started pacing across the room. “Look, do you think I like asking for help? I’m drowning. That’s what it feels like. Sometimes I think we’re all going to go under if it doesn’t stop.” He paused. “I’m not asking you to lie for me. Or tell the truth, for that matter. I don’t want you to testify. I just want you to run a little interference, that’s all.”

“We don’t make deals with the committee, Walter.”

“That’s right, I forgot. Everyone’s ducking under the table.”

Larry shrugged. “Anyway, what have you got to trade? Twenty names at State? That’s about the going price these days, if you had them. Which you don’t.”

“Marked down from twenty pieces of silver,” his father said.

Larry said nothing.

“I’m going to resign. That’s what Welles wants-let’s give it to him. He can take credit for hounding another Red out of the State Department. Cleaning out the stables. Without having to go to the bother of proving anything. Since he can’t, that should put him ahead. I’ll deny it, but it won’t matter. Even the people who don’t believe it believe it a little. We finish out the hearing in closed session-no more cameras. I don’t want my kid seeing me in the movies again, ever. Not a bad cover for the committee either. People will think they really had something. The republic’ll be safe and I’ll be out of this. End of the drama.”

Outside the door, Nick stood still in disbelief. His father always told him never to give up. Why would he walk away from a fight? He wanted to push the door wide open, tell him that he didn’t mind the newsreel or what people said, any of it. Instead, there was only the prickling feeling of dread again. Where would they go?

For a minute Larry was quiet. “You’re out of your mind,” he said finally.

“No, I’m not. It’s the way it makes sense.”

“Do you think Welles gives a rat’s ass whether you’re a Communist or not? The only Red he’s ever seen had feathers coming out of his head. No cameras. That’s what he’s doing this for. Once they turn the lights off, he’s gone. And right now, all he’s got is you. No one else to call. The girl didn’t give them any names. How they tricked her into naming you, I don’t know, but it won’t work again. You’ve seen her up there-she never expected any of this to happen. She’s not the Bentley type. You’re the end of the road as far as Welles is concerned. He’s not going to trade you for some musical chairs over at State. You’re all he’s got.”

“Do you know this?”

Larry shrugged. “Nobody keeps a secret in this town. Believe me, his in-box is empty. She’s not giving him anything. She can’t even prove what she said about herself. At this point, he’d be lucky to make the charges stick against her.”

“She confessed.”

“If you believe her. Maybe she did Judge Crater too. People confess to anything-they like the spotlight. That doesn’t make it true. Even Welles is nervous about her. The louder he gets, the less he has to say.”

“Then he ought to jump at this.”

“He won’t. Listen to me, Walter. There is no deal here. Welles is too dumb to make one and you’re too smart. You don’t have to give him anything-you just have to stop fighting with him. If he can’t cite you for contempt, he’ll walk away with nothing.”

Nick heard his father sigh. “What’s the difference, Larry? I’m going to have to resign anyway. I keep waiting for the phone call. No, it’ll be a meeting, I suppose. Acheson’s office. Just the two of us. Nothing personal. Better under the circumstances-Christ, I’ve already been through it. Why not get something for it? A little peace of mind at least.”

“If you do that now, it’s as good as an admission, Walter. We can’t have that.”

Nick’s father raised his eyebrows in surprise. “We?”

“You’d be a political liability.”

For a moment they stared at each other, a silent conversation, then Nick’s father leaned against the desk again. “I don’t care, Larry. I’m going to resign.”

“No, it’s not going to happen that way,” Larry said, his voice low and steady, as if he were explaining something to a child. “He’s going to shout and you’re going to be polite. Nothing will happen. You’ll be the loyal American you always were-maybe a little foolish and idealistic, but nothing worse. One of the good guys. She-let’s say she was confused, maybe a nut case, anyway confused.”

Larry moved toward the desk, as if he were adjusting the sights of his words, taking aim. “In the spring, two, three months from now, you resign quietly. All that time in the limelight-well, it would make anyone shy. You want the quiet life. The administration regrets. It’s a pity reckless accusations are driving talented men out of public life. Or maybe nothing has to be said-no one notices. They’ve moved on. By the time the elections roll around in the fall, you’re not even a memory and Welles is out on the stump with a different fight on his hands. Nobody’s soft on Communism. Nobody’s been embarrassed.”

Again, an awful stillness in the room.