Omerta - Mario Puzo [48]
“I understand,” Cilke said. And thought, easier said than done.
“And don’t take unnecessary risks,” the director said. “Remember, drug people in South America and Sicily are linked with Portella, and they are reckless fellows.”
“Shall I keep you advised day by day orally or in writing?” Cilke asked.
“Neither,” the director said. “I have absolute confidence in your integrity. And besides, I don’t want to have to lie to some congressional committee. To become one of my deputies, you will have to clear these things up.” He waited expectantly.
Cilke never dared even to think his real thoughts in the presence of the director, as if the man could read his mind. But still, the rebellion flashed. Who the fuck did the director think he was, the American Civil Liberties Union? With his memos to emphasize that the Mafia was not Italian, Muslims were not terrorists, that blacks were not the criminal class. Who the fuck did he think committed the street crimes?
But Cilke said quietly, “Sir, if you want my resignation, I’ve built up enough time for an early retirement.”
“No,” the director said. “Answer my question. Can you clean up your relationships?”
“I have given the names of all the informants to the Bureau,” Cilke said. “As for cutting corners, that’s a matter of interpretation. As for being friends with the local police force, that’s PR for the Bureau.”
“Your results speak for your work,” the director said. “Let’s try another year. Let’s go on.” He paused for a long moment and sighed. Then he asked almost impatiently, “Have we got enough on the tobacco-company executives for perjury in your judgment?”
“Easily,” Cilke said, and wondered why the director even asked. He had all the files.
“But it could be their personal beliefs,” the director said. “We have polls that show that half the American people agree with them.”
“That’s not relevant to the case,” Cilke said. “The people in the poll did not commit perjury in their testimony to Congress. We have tapes and internal documents that prove the tobacco executives knowingly lied. They conspired.”
“You’re right,” the director said with a sigh. “But the attorney general has made a deal. No criminal indictments, no prison time. They will pay fines of hundreds of billions of dollars. So close that investigation. It’s out of our hands.”
“Fine, sir,” Cilke said. “I can always use the extra manpower on other things.”
“Good for you,” the director said. “I’ll make you even happier. On that shipping of illegal technology to China, that’s very serious business.”
“There’s no option,” Cilke said. “Those companies deliberately broke a federal law for financial gain and breached the security of the United States. The heads of those companies conspired.”
“We do have the goods on them,” the director said, “but you know conspiracy is a catchall. Everybody conspires. But that’s another case you can close and save the manpower.”
Cilke said incredulously, “Sir, are you saying a deal has been made on that?”
The director leaned back in his chair and frowned at Cilke’s implied insolence, but he made allowances. “Cilke, you are the best field man in the Bureau. But you have no political sense. Now listen to me, and never forget this: You cannot send six billionaires to prison. Not in a democracy.”
“And that’s it?” Cilke asked.
“The financial sanctions will be very heavy,” the director said. “Now, on to other things, one very confidential. We’re going to exchange a federal prisoner for one of our informers who is being held hostage in Colombia, a very valuable asset in our war on the drug trade. This is a case you’re familiar with.” He referred to a case four years ago in which a drug dealer took five hostages, a woman and four children. He killed them and also killed a Bureau agent. He was given life without parole. “I remember that you were adamant on the death penalty,” the director said. “Now we are going to let him go, and I know you won’t be too happy. Remember, all this is secret, but the papers will probably dig it