The Prodigal Spy Read Online Free PDF Page A

don’t go near the Hill these days. Christ, we don’t even cross the street. Everybody’s too busy ducking under the table.”
    His father nodded with a small smile. “So I heard. They’re starting to get lonely over at State.”
    “State’s like sick bay–everybody’s afraid they’ll catch something. Anyway, you’ve already got Benjamin. He’s the best lawyer in town for this.”
    “Devoted as he is to lost causes,” his father said, taking a drink.
    “You’re not going to lose. Just stop fighting with Welles. He’s on a fishing expedition and you keep biting. He hasn’t got anything, so he’s trying to nail you for contempt.”
    “How do you know he hasn’t got anything?”
    Larry looked at him. “Because he never does,” he said, tossing back his drink. “Because I know you. The Mine Workers, for Christ’s sake. What’s next, the fucking Red Cross? He hasn’t got a thing, Walter.” He paused. “If he did we’d have heard about it.” He turned and started walking, a courtroom pace. “One witness who doesn’t even
look
stable. You see the way she twists her handkerchief? If this were a real trial, Benjamin would discredit her in two minutes. Two minutes.”
    “Then I guess I don’t have a thing to worry about,” his father said easily. He leaned against the edge of the desk, looking down at his glass. “Nick wonders why she’s saying these things. I’ll bet he’s not the only one.”
    Nick started at the sound of his name, as if they’d caught him and were drawing him into the room.
    “Who knows?” Larry said. “Maybe Welles is screwing her. She wouldn’t be the first. Maybe she’s doing it for love. She looks the type. The point is, it doesn’t matter. All she’s got is some cockamamie story about shirts. Shirts. Christ, where do they get this stuff? Anyway, forget her. This is about Welles, not her. Welles doesn’t know what to do with her either. Just keep your eye on him.”
    His father smiled, still looking down. “That’s what Nick said too.”
    Larry stopped, disconcerted, then walked over to the sideboard to put his glass down. “Well, do it then. All you’ve got to do is keep your head, Walter. It’s her word against yours, and yours still counts for something in this town.”
    “Let’s not kid ourselves, Larry,” his father said slowly. “I’m finished in this town. That’s why I need your help.”
    In the quiet Nick could hear the sounds from downstairs, the indistinct voices and clinks of coffee spoons.
    “Walter, I—”
    “Don’t worry, it won’t cost you anything. I don’t want a lawyer. Just some advice. Advice used to be cheap.” He got up and walked over to the window, out of Nick’s sight.
    “You’re a behind-the-scenes guy. It’s your specialty, isn’t it? I need someone like that now.”
    “To do what?”
    “To make a deal with the committee.”
    “You don’t want to do that,” Larry said carefully.
    “I have to. It’s going to get worse.”
    The room was quiet again.
    “What do you mean?” Larry finally said. “Look, Walter, if you’re trying to tell me something, don’t. I’m not your lawyer. Anything we say–it’s not privileged. You know that.”
    His father came back into view, his face slightly surprised. “You don’t have to tell me that, Larry,” he said gently. “What’s the matter? Do you think I’m a Communist? You too?”
    “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to know. I mean it. Not any of it. I don’t want to know what you joined or who your pals were.”
    “Larry—”
    Larry held up his hand. “No. Listen to me. I don’t care if you organized the whole goddam dining hall or had a drink with Uncle Joe at Yalta. Things were different then. Was it innocent? There is no such thing now. They can twist anything. I
can’t
know. What if they call me too? They could. I’m an old friend. I don’t want to be used against you.”
    “No,” his father said after a minute, nodding to himself. “Not to