Hell, they wouldn’t let me.”
“Who is ‘they’? I’m this man’s counsel.”
“That’s right, so you are. So you are.”
He eyed me sharply then and read the letter again. Then he said: “But suppose you don’t have proof? This letter alone is a bombshell, enough to bring in the Gooch Committee. They’ll find the proof, if it’s there. And it has to be there, of course! This whole Army’s a mess of corruption, caused by cotton—graft, cumsha, and slipperoo, straight down the line and straight up the line, as this letter intimates. That’s what’ll interest Gooch.”
“Who’s Gooch, if I may ask?”
“Chairman of the committee in Congress that investigates this kind of stuff, the conduct of the war.”
“Oh yes, I’ve heard of him.”
“He can’t disregard this .”
I let him run on, through orange, eggs, and coffee, until he’d folded the letter up, tucked it in his pocket, and patted it. Then I said: “Of course, I haven’t submitted it yet.”
“What do you mean, you haven’t submitted it?”
“But that’s understood,” I said.
“Not by me,” he snapped, quite annoyed. “You hand me a letter, a copy you say you made for me, and I supposed it had been sent.”
“But I told you; I’m having a confab.”
“Listen, Cresap, you’re not in the newspaper business, so perhaps you don’t get the point. This letter is news, but I can’t touch it until it’s sent—that’s what makes it public, that’s what puts it on the record.”
“I do get the point. That’s the idea.”
“Well, thanks. And thanks.”
“Mr. Olsen,” I said very quietly, “I’m Mr. Landry’s counsel, and I don’t act for you, or the news, or the record. I act for him, and only him. If submitting the letter helps him, I submit. If not, if the confab says I shouldn’t, I don’t submit it. Now if you want to be present—”
“You know what this sounds like to me?”
“All right, Mr. Olsen, what?”
“Like you’re using me for a cat’s-paw.”
“Then call it that.”
“I call it what it is.”
“So I’m using you for a cat’s-paw, but if you don’t want to be one, just hand me the copy back, and I’ll find somebody else.”
“... What’s the rest of it?”
“You asking as a cat’s-paw?”
“As a cat’s-paw, yes. What next?”
“It’s very simple.”
I told him there was another person I had to invite to the confab, and that all he had to do was meet me at headquarters in an hour and let nature take its course. By the way he nodded, I knew he would be there.
I walked down to the City Hotel, turned in the key of 303, and when I got to the third floor, opened the room with my skeleton for a quick look. It was all just as I’d left it, even to the rumpled bed, except the two twenties were gone. I locked up and kept on to 346. Pierre opened as usual, giving no sign he connected me with the goings-on of last night—though of course, except for his brief interlude with a lady, he had no reason to know there’d been any goings-on. While he was calling Burke I had a flash at the basket: it was empty. So there weren’t any dangling ends, and Burke was surprised to see me. I told him: “I’ve been thinking things over since I saw you yesterday, and I’m making one last try on behalf of Mr. Landry, a direct appeal, man to man, to the Commanding General himself.”
“Me boy, it does you credit.”
But when he found out I’d already written the letter, he balked and demanded to see it. I said: “Mr. Burke, naturally I’d like your judgment, and I’d show it to you gladly, except for one thing: If I don’t help Mr. Landry, if I actually worsen his case, you’re the one hope he’ll have to undo what I’ve done. But in that case, you must be able to say you had nothing to do with the letter, didn’t even see it. And, naturally, you wouldn’t say so if it weren’t actually true.”
“... Naturally not.”
“ But , I’m reading it to them
“Who is ‘they’? I’m this man’s counsel.”
“That’s right, so you are. So you are.”
He eyed me sharply then and read the letter again. Then he said: “But suppose you don’t have proof? This letter alone is a bombshell, enough to bring in the Gooch Committee. They’ll find the proof, if it’s there. And it has to be there, of course! This whole Army’s a mess of corruption, caused by cotton—graft, cumsha, and slipperoo, straight down the line and straight up the line, as this letter intimates. That’s what’ll interest Gooch.”
“Who’s Gooch, if I may ask?”
“Chairman of the committee in Congress that investigates this kind of stuff, the conduct of the war.”
“Oh yes, I’ve heard of him.”
“He can’t disregard this .”
I let him run on, through orange, eggs, and coffee, until he’d folded the letter up, tucked it in his pocket, and patted it. Then I said: “Of course, I haven’t submitted it yet.”
“What do you mean, you haven’t submitted it?”
“But that’s understood,” I said.
“Not by me,” he snapped, quite annoyed. “You hand me a letter, a copy you say you made for me, and I supposed it had been sent.”
“But I told you; I’m having a confab.”
“Listen, Cresap, you’re not in the newspaper business, so perhaps you don’t get the point. This letter is news, but I can’t touch it until it’s sent—that’s what makes it public, that’s what puts it on the record.”
“I do get the point. That’s the idea.”
“Well, thanks. And thanks.”
“Mr. Olsen,” I said very quietly, “I’m Mr. Landry’s counsel, and I don’t act for you, or the news, or the record. I act for him, and only him. If submitting the letter helps him, I submit. If not, if the confab says I shouldn’t, I don’t submit it. Now if you want to be present—”
“You know what this sounds like to me?”
“All right, Mr. Olsen, what?”
“Like you’re using me for a cat’s-paw.”
“Then call it that.”
“I call it what it is.”
“So I’m using you for a cat’s-paw, but if you don’t want to be one, just hand me the copy back, and I’ll find somebody else.”
“... What’s the rest of it?”
“You asking as a cat’s-paw?”
“As a cat’s-paw, yes. What next?”
“It’s very simple.”
I told him there was another person I had to invite to the confab, and that all he had to do was meet me at headquarters in an hour and let nature take its course. By the way he nodded, I knew he would be there.
I walked down to the City Hotel, turned in the key of 303, and when I got to the third floor, opened the room with my skeleton for a quick look. It was all just as I’d left it, even to the rumpled bed, except the two twenties were gone. I locked up and kept on to 346. Pierre opened as usual, giving no sign he connected me with the goings-on of last night—though of course, except for his brief interlude with a lady, he had no reason to know there’d been any goings-on. While he was calling Burke I had a flash at the basket: it was empty. So there weren’t any dangling ends, and Burke was surprised to see me. I told him: “I’ve been thinking things over since I saw you yesterday, and I’m making one last try on behalf of Mr. Landry, a direct appeal, man to man, to the Commanding General himself.”
“Me boy, it does you credit.”
But when he found out I’d already written the letter, he balked and demanded to see it. I said: “Mr. Burke, naturally I’d like your judgment, and I’d show it to you gladly, except for one thing: If I don’t help Mr. Landry, if I actually worsen his case, you’re the one hope he’ll have to undo what I’ve done. But in that case, you must be able to say you had nothing to do with the letter, didn’t even see it. And, naturally, you wouldn’t say so if it weren’t actually true.”
“... Naturally not.”
“ But , I’m reading it to them
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