The Cold Six Thousand - James Ellroy [150]
Three so far—three cheaters/three whorehounds/three drunks.
Feds manned the bug posts—two agents for three months. Mr. Hoover got bored. It was dirt insufficient. Call it a dirt deficit.
Mr. Hoover pulled the Feds. Fred filled in for them. Fred dirtified. Fred stored dirt. Fred aged dirt. Fred saved dirt for Pete.
Three legislators and one Pete. Compliance guaranteed. We’ve got the board votes. We’ve got YOU now. Pledge your support.
Watch us abridge antitrust laws. Watch our Vegas spree. Watch hotel profits plunge. Watch skim ops soar. Watch Littell invest skim money.
We’ve got the “real” books. We’ve got the goods. We’ve got the buyout stats. We co-opt businesses. We funnel cash. We build foreign casinos.
The Boys hoard. The Boys divert. The Boys avoid obstructions—usually.
Sam G. was obstructed now. It was recent news. Sam was in jail in Chicago. A grand jury subpoenaed him. Bobby paneled it. Bobby was AG then.
Sam refused to testify. Sam took the Fifth. The judge cited him.
Contempt of Court—Cook County Jail—for the grand-jury term. One year—jail to spring ’66.
The judge ragged on Sam. The judge aped Bobby. Bobby ragged Sam in ’57. Bobby was Senate counsel then. Bobby was a senator now.
He played his Bobby tapes. He toured the Senate. He prowled the gallery. He watched Bobby. He read the Senate Record. He tracked Bobby’s words through.
Bobby debunks bills. Bobby lauds bills. Bobby never mentions the Boys. Bobby presses for civil rights. Bobby lauds Dr. King.
Littell taped Bayard Rustin. Bayard praised King. Littell met Bayard sans tape. Bayard waxed sad that day. Bayard showed him the letter.
“King, look into your heart.”
“King, like all frauds, your end is approaching.”
“You are a colossal fraud, and an evil, vicious one at that.”
“King, there is only one thing left for you to do.”
They met in Lafayette Park. Bayard showed him the letter. He read it. He went queasy. He walked.
He met Bayard one more time. Lafayette Park again. They talked sans tape. It sparked him. It scared him.
Tails.
Dwight Holly had him tailed. Mr. Hoover said so. Vegas tails—pre-RABBIT.
Holly was BLUE RABBIT. Holly ran BLACK RABBIT. Holly hated him. Spot tails meant checks. Spot tails meant notes. Spot tails meant data accrued.
He met Jane in Vegas—that one bad time—potential tails were out. He met Janice—their first time—potential tails were out.
Holly pulled the tails. Holly pulled them pre-RABBIT. Mr. Hoover said so. Holly ran RABBIT. Holly had juice. Holly could tail-reinstate.
He met Bayard. They had two meets sans tape. He ran tail checks. None were visible. None were obvious. None were probable or certified.
Bayard said, “Come to Selma. You’ll see history.”
He did it.
He flew down. He used fake ID. He forged a press card. He ducked the marchers. He ducked the cops. He joined a press crew.
He watched. He fretted tails. He saw Bloody Sunday.
Highway 80. The Edmund Pettus Bridge. Sheriff Clark’s posse—horses and patrol cars with rebel bumper-flags.
Clark braced the marchers. Clark said disperse in two minutes. The posse charged one minute in. They charged with tear gas and billy clubs. They charged with bullwhips and barbed-wire saps.
The posse hit the marchers. The posse cut through them. The posse mowed them down. He watched. He hid behind cameras. He saw saps rip noses. He saw whips sever ears.
He hid. Meek CRUSADER RABBIT. Unworthy of brave RED and PINK.
He flew back to Vegas. He thought about tails. He thought about Mr. Hoover. Mr. Hoover pledged memos—RABBIT details—Mr. Hoover sent none.
Let’s extrapolate. Let’s grow some fear.
Mr. Hoover is busy. He’s deep in BLACK RABBIT. BLUE RABBIT counsels him. BLUE hates CRUSADER. BLUE hoards memorandums. BLUE restricts their flow.
Or:
Mr. Hoover has plans. They’re draconian. They supersede suicide letters. Why disturb CRUSADER? Why risk his specious reproach?
Don’t tweak him with knowledge. Don’t risk his betrayal. Don’t test his silly ideals.
Or:
BLUE has a puppet—WILD RABBIT on strings—WILD RABBIT works alone.