“All right.”
“Sid, when and where did you first join the Communist Party?”
“In 1935, in New York.”
“What were your reasons for joining?”
“Well, we were in the depths of a terrible depression, and things were very bad. I suppose I had the feeling that things weren’t working as well as they should in the country, and the party seemed to offer an alternative to the Republicans and the Democrats. Their proposals seemed to me idealistic. For instance, I was attracted to their position on racial equality.”
“All right, Sid. Let’s remember that some of the committee members, like Congressman John Wood of Georgia, are not going to be receptive to comments about the lack of racial equality in this country, so in answering, you might want to avoid mentioning that.”
“All right.”
The questioning continued for more than an hour, with occasional comments from the men present. Sid found their suggestions helpful. Finally, Roy handed Sid a sheet of paper with six names typed on it.
“As Hy has no doubt told you, you’re going to have to identify some of the people you met at party functions,” he said. “We’d like to suggest these names, all of which are already known to the committee.”
Sid looked at the list. Three of the names were New Yorkers, and another three were living in California. “All these names are familiar to me,” he said. “I met the first three in New York at party-sponsored social events; the last three were all among the nineteen who were originally subpoenaed.”
“Are you personally acquainted with them all?”
“Yes, though I’ve never been close to any of them.”
“Are they all members of the Communist Party?”
“You have to understand that when you meet people at party-sponsored events, no one ever says to you that he’s a Communist.”
“Have you ever attended a formal party meeting where any of these people were present?”
“I was at a meeting where the first man was present,” Sid said.
“Are you willing to testify to that?”
“I suppose so.”
“What about the others?”
“The other two New York names were commonly thought of by the people I knew as party members, but remember, no one ever flashed a membership card. In fact, I was never given my party card; it was held in the local organization’s files.”
“All right. We understand that. In fact, we’ve seen a photostat of your party card; don’t ask how.”
This surprised Sid, but he didn’t say so.
“What about the three from California? Were you ever in a party meeting with them?”
“Yes, all three, but the meetings were held after we were subpoenaed, for the sole purpose of discussing our legal defense. Actually, after I came to California, I never attended a regular party meeting. I drifted away from the party.”
“All right, let’s do this; give us an account of each party-sponsored function — cocktails, even — where you saw any of these individuals.”
Sid wracked his brain and managed to come up with some answers. “Some of these things were fund-raisers for Soviet relief during the war, when the Russians were our allies. Sometimes petitions were circulated.”
“Sid, were you acquainted with the actor Alan James before his death?”
“Yes. We were in the theater together in New York; he appeared in leading roles in two of my plays there.”
“To your knowledge, was Alan James a member of the Communist Party?”
“Yes. He was. We both joined at the same meeting.”
“Did you continue to be close to him after he came to California?”
“No. Alan came before I did and established himself sooner. We didn’t often work on the same productions, and we just drifted apart, I guess you’d say.”
“Was Alan James a hard-core Communist?”
“No. I’d call Al more of a social Communist. I think he joined mostly because people he knew were party members.”
“Did you have occasion to see him shortly before his death?”
“Yes. We had dinner the evening before he died. He called and suggested we meet for dinner.”
“What was the subject of your conversation that evening?”
“Alan had decided to become a friendly witness, but he was very conflicted about it.”
“Was he considering not testifying in a friendly manner?”
“No. I think he was fully committed to testifying, but he felt badly about naming friends of his.”
“Do you know if you were one of the friends he would have named?”
“Yes. He told me that. I think he felt he owed me an explanation before he named me.”
“Did you part on good terms?”
“Al got very drunk at dinner, and I had to drive him home and put him to bed. He was in no condition to be on either good or bad terms. Apparently, he woke up the following morning and ended his life.”
“Do you think he felt guilty about becoming a party member, or guilty about naming people he knew?”
“I think he was guilty about both.”
“The committee would probably prefer it if you emphasized his guilt over party membership.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t think he felt all that guilty about joining. I believe he took his own life because he didn’t want to be thought of as an informer by his friends.”
“Can you shade that a bit in your testimony?”
“I was told not to lie to you today; I haven’t.”
Roy made a note on a pad, then he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Sid, was your wife, Alice, a party member?”
“No. She was not.”
“Was she a sympathizer?”
“No. She attended one or two of the fund-raisers with me, but she never approved of the party. She tried very hard to get me to be a friendly witness before the committee. When I failed to do so, she filed for divorce.”
Roy smiled. “That’s pretty much what she told our investigators in New York.”
Sid was stunned. “I had no idea your people had talked with her; we’ve been out of touch since we separated. All our conversations have been through lawyers since that time.”
Roy smiled. “All right, Sid. I’m pleased to tell you that all of the answers you’ve given us today are consistent with the information we have from other sources. If you’re willing to testify before the committee again, along the lines of what you’ve said here today, I and my colleagues are willing to submit your name to the committee as a friendly witness.”
Hy spoke for the first time. “That’s good news, Roy. Thank you all for your help.”
After a round of handshakes and good-byes, Sid and Hy left the cottage.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“It could have been worse,” Sid said.
49
Tom Terry walked into the restaurant and looked around. A man waved at him from a table, and he walked over and shook his hands. “Hello, Jake. I’m Tom Terry.”
Jake Connor shook the hand. “Sit down, Tom.” Connor was Tom’s opposite number at RKO, their head of security. “Have a drink?” There was a glass of brown whiskey before him.
“Sure. I’ll have a Wild Turkey and water.”
Jake waved down a waiter, ordered the drink and asked for menus. “How are you enjoying life at Centurion? You’ve been there a while, haven’t you?”
“I like it a lot,” Tom replied. “I replaced Rick Barron when he left for the navy in ’42.”
“You didn’t get caught in the draft?”
Tom shook his head. “I was a flatfoot who really had flat feet. How about you?”