Pulitzer_ A Life in Politics, Print, and Power - James McGrath Morris [247]
“Thus far, we have not connected either of the Pulitzers with the commission of the offense, and in my opinion, have not evidence to indict either,” Stimson reported. This was not what the president wanted to hear. Roosevelt sent a terse note to Stimson, dropping the usual “Dear Harry,” demanding that he come to the White House.
The following morning, before meeting with his cabinet, the president sat down with Stimson and Bonaparte at the White House. Also present was Roosevelt’s brother-in-law Douglas Robinson; he had just returned from seeing Jerome, the district attorney in New York, who had not ruled out bringing his own case against the World. When this gathering broke up, Stimson and Bonaparte returned to the Justice Department, where they conferred with the U.S. attorney for Washington and his assistant. The message was clear. Roosevelt wanted Pulitzer in the dock.
Like most lawyers who examined the case, Jerome had doubts about it, but he enjoyed having a chance to torment Pulitzer. As Stimson spun his wheels, Jerome remained mostly mum about his intentions. The World assigned reporters to tail Jerome and to try to get his assistants to leak his plans. But nothing could be learned. When Pulitzer returned from his cruise, confounding those who thought he had gone to Panama, he told Seitz to find out what Jerome was planning. Seitz turned to a star writer from the Evening World, Irvin Cobb (not related to Pulitzer’s editorial writer Frank Cobb). Cobb had gotten to know the district attorney when he covered the famous trial of Harry K. Thaw, who murdered Stanford White. Seitz hoped he might use this friendship to determine Jerome’s plans.
“To put it badly,” Seitz said when he brought Cobb into his office, “we’ve exhausted practically every expedient, every available resource we could think of—we and our lawyers and other representatives—and without success. A grave emergency exists. Mr. Pulitzer is in a very depressed, very harassed state. The possible consequences to his health are dangerous—most dangerous. So as a last resort we are asking your cooperation.”
Cobb agreed and was told he could use as much money and manpower as he needed to get the job done. However, he simply hopped onto a trolley and rode down to Pontin’s Restaurant, a popular hangout for lawyers. There he found Jerome having a drink. “I don’t like a hair in that man’s head,” said Jerome when Cobb asked him about Pulitzer. “He has attacked me viciously, violently, and without due provocation.
“Even so,” Jerome continued, “I never intended to make either a burnt offering or a martyr out of him.” In fact, Jerome said that within forty-eight hours of meeting with Stimson he had made up his own mind not to pursue the case. But because he had been annoyed by the World’s behavior toward him, he admitted, “I’ve let King Pulitzer—and his gang of sycophants—stew in their own juice.”
Cobb returned to the office and reported what he had found out. Seitz put him on a telephone to Pulitzer’s house and asked him to repeat this to Norman Thwaites. After hearing it, Thwaites said that Pulitzer was sitting with him and wanted to know how Cobb had obtained the information so quickly.
“Well, it’s like this,” said Cobb, who then recounted his trolley ride and the alcohol-laced interview with Jerome.
“Well, I wish I might be God-damned,” said Pulitzer, loud enough to be heard over the telephone, when Thwaites had repeated the tale. Cobb turned in his expense report of ten cents for his trolley rides and returned to work.
Stimson remained firmly convinced that Pulitzer was beyond his reach. In February he instructed the grand jury that there was not enough