The prodigal spy

“And what about you? You know what it would mean. Do you want to go through all that again? I’m not doing anything more than what Walter did. You want to make him a saint, that’s your business, but don’t drag the rest of us down trying. Do you think anybody wants to know? That time is over. You think Nixon wants his old Red-baiting days brought up again? Mr Statesman? Hell, the only one who still cares at all is Hoover, and he’s been nuts for years. No one wants to know. Who would you be doing it for?”

“For me.”

“For you. Why? Settling someone else’s scores. And you’d still have to prove it. I don’t know what you think you have — is it really enough? I’d have to fight you, and I’m good, I’ve been doing it for a long time. I don’t want to fight you, Nick. You’re my son. You are, you know. We’d be killing each other. Like scorpions. We’d both go down.”

“You killed someone, Larry. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Listen, Nick, I’m going to a meeting now with men who are killing thousands, and people think they’re heroes. I didn’t make the world. At least I did it to protect myself — that’s the oldest instinct in the book. What’s their excuse? Come on, walk with me. I’ll be late.”

Numbly Nick fell in step at his side. “I don’t care about them, Larry. You killed him.”

“He killed himself, Nick. He killed himself the moment he decided to turn. Those are the rules. They’d do the same thing to me-or you. Be smart. Let’s all just retire in peace. Think of your mother. You don’t want to do this to her.”

“Look what you’ve done to her.”

“I hope I’ve made her happy.” He turned. “She can’t know about this.”

“What’s the difference? A wife can’t testify against her husband.” Nick stopped. “Is that why you married her?”

“Of course not. I love your mother. I always have.”

“You’re a liar, Larry. You don’t even know her.”

“I’m not going to argue with you, Nick. I did my best, that’s all I can say.”

“You even lie to yourself.”

“Well, we all do that.” They stopped near the entrance to the White House, across the lawn behind the tall railings. Barriers along the street to keep protestors away. Larry waved to one of the guards and turned. “But I’m not lying to you. There’s no advantage here. Be smart.”

“Like you. Maybe I’m one of the fools. Are any of them smart, or are you the only one?” Nick cocked his head toward the gate, where a black limousine was pulling onto the driveway.

“Well, they’re not very bright,” Larry said. “Anyway, it won’t be much longer. I’ll be out this fall. Would you like me to resign sooner? Would that ease your conscience?”

Making a deal, the way he always did. Sure of himself. Nick looked at him, the familiar face suddenly inexplicable. “Tell me. Why did you do it?”

“I thought I explained-”

“No. It. Are you a Communist? I mean, do you believe in it?”

“I used to. I thought it would fix things.”

“But not anymore.”

“I’m too old to believe you can fix things.”

“Then why did you keep going?”

“Well, you have to.” An easy answer, but then he stopped, thinking. “I don’t know if you’d understand. It was the stakes. It was-you’d sit at a table, in there.” He jabbed his thumb toward the gate. “You’d sit there while they all talked, and none of them knew.”

“That you were betraying them.”

“That you had the secret. This big secret. None of them knew.” He shrugged. “But that’s all over now. My son’s going to insist I retire.” He smiled his old Van Johnson smile and turned to the gate. “Call me after lunch.”

“But-” Nick reached out to stop him, but Larry had already moved out of reach, so that Nick’s arm just hung in the air, as if he were holding a gun. Then slowly he dropped it, unable to pull the trigger.

Molly was still at the store, waiting.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” she said. “What happened?”

“Where’s the girl?”

“She split. But I got this.” She held up the envelope. “She was too freaked to argue. Just ran.”

“Did you look?”

Molly nodded. “What we’re going to say in Paris. Talk about a stacked deck. If this doesn’t put him away, nothing will. What happened? No more than what your father did-another lie. He was prolonging the war.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“I can’t,” she said, indicating the unmanned register. “There’s no one here.”

“Now,” Nick said sharply. Then, seeing her surprised face, “What if she comes back?”

Molly grabbed her purse from underneath the counter. They walked down 14th Street toward the Mall, hearing the sound of loudspeakers in the distance, a chant. Molly listened to him without interrupting, her face worried. They turned up Pennsylvania Avenue. Nick could see the Justice building, Hoover’s balcony overlooking the street, where he watched the parades. A short elevator ride, a deal-that’s all it would take.

“So what are you going to do?” Molly said finally.

“Why did it have to be him?” he said, almost to himself.

“Because it is.”

“I don’t know,” he said, answering her question.

“Finish it. That’s what you came here to do. End it.”

“It won’t end. It’ll start all over again.”