“They often do,” the man conceded as if it was nothing of any consequence. “Things work better for them if they make up the evidence as they go along; it saves people like Reggie O’Connell having to use his brain.”
“I told Sam that Doug Weston was being held at Irvine,” Judy remembered.
“Whatever you think about Chino,” the lawyer assured the tearful new mother, “this place is five times better than Irvine.”
Judy struggled to imagine a worse place than the one she had just been inside.
“Sam was cool about Tabatha Christa,” she confided to Sabrina as the women settled in the back seat of Vincent Meredith’s Lincoln.
After they had been driving several minutes the older woman patted Meredith’s shoulder.
“What now, Vincent?”
“Nothing. The DA’s Office has a thirty day backlog. Sam won’t get taken before a grand jury for at least another three or four weeks. In the meantime I’ll dig around. Just try not to worry too much.”
Judy was singularly unimpressed by that particular piece of advice. Nevertheless, she raised her head and with her jaw proudly jutting she recounted the odd little anecdote that Sam had obviously prepared in advance to cheer her up.
“Sam says they made a film at Chino in 1955. ‘Unchained’. He only knows about it because the song from the film ‘Unchained Melody’ was nominated for an Oscar for the Best Song the year ‘Love is a Many-Splendored Thing’ won. He followed that sort of thing when he was a kid. He said that back in 1936 the man who wrote ‘Unchained Melody’ offered a version of it to Bing Crosby but he wasn’t interested. Some guy called Hy Zaret actually wrote the final version of the lyrics. He said it was one of those songs where one of the words in the title doesn’t actually appear anywhere in the song itself. Although it was the theme song of a movie called ‘Unchained’ and the song is ‘Unchained Melody’ the word ‘unchained’ isn’t actually in the song.”
Sabrina understood her friend was trying to be brave.
“What was the movie about?”
“It’s about a man in prison who dreams of escaping to be reunited with his lover who he hasn’t seen for a long time. He can’t make up his mind if he wants to escape or to serve his time. Oh, and one of the heroes is a Warden who wants to rehabilitate all the prisoners but that didn’t sound very plausible to me. Sam was only really interested in the song.”
“I don’t remember that song,” Sabrina apologised.
“That’s okay,” her friend grimaced. “We’ll find somebody who does.”
Chapter 28
When John Millard Tawes was elected 54th Governor of Maryland in 1959 he became the first Marylander to be elected successively to the posts of State Treasurer, Comptroller and then Governor. Now sixty-nine years of age he cut an unremarkable, balding bookishly bespectacled figure. Unlike his counterpart in Virginia he was a pragmatic man preoccupied with the art of the possible, rather than wasting his time and energy clinging to the traditions of a world that no longer existed. He was no kind of new Kennedy Democrat and he had little or no time for the Irish Mafia which had coalesced around the late Joe Kennedy’s two eldest surviving sons; but he did recognise that their way was the future and that Virginia was still firmly stuck in the past.
“Virginia will receive no succour from Maryland,” he said softly. “Maryland State Air and Army National Guard formations are levied and maintained at the pleasure of the Commander-in-Chief.”
Albertis Sydney Harrison, Governor of Virginia bristled.
The President coughed.
“General LeMay stands ready to deploy all the forces at his disposal to ensure that my orders are carried out to the letter, Governor Harrison. This is not a matter I asked you to travel to Camp David to discuss. In requesting your presence at this place I am doing you the courtesy of personally telling you what has been decided. That is all. Given the events of recent days this is a time when all patriots should stand to the flag. When you and Governor Tawes return to your State Capitols this evening you will be escorted by officers who will put into effect the Executive Order I have drafted covering the measures deemed necessary by the Joint Chiefs to ensure that in the wake of the ‘rebellion’ that I, as the Commander-in-Chief can have the utmost confidence in the chain of command.”
Jack Kennedy sat back steepling his fingers under his chin.
“Governor Harrison, Governor Tawes,” he half-smiled, “that will be all. You will both wish to be on your way back to your respective states as soon as possible.”
The door to the room opened and two Marines stepped inside, snapping to attention.
“I will never forget this,” Harrison said breathlessly as he stood tall.
“Nor should you, Albertis,” the Governor of Maryland observed dryly. He looked to Jack Kennedy who was rising much more painfully and stiffly to his feet than either of the two older men.
Harrison shook his President’s hand as if he was afraid of catching an infectious disease; Tawes paused to meet Jack Kennedy’s stare.
“Maryland stood by the Union in 1861 and it will continue to so do while I live, sir,” he promised sombrely.
It was only when the two Governors had departed that a nod from the President prompted General David Shoup to briefly hold center stage. The Commandant of the Marine Corps — as befitted the man who had gone ashore with the 2nd Marines at Tarawa — did not mix his words.
“Elements of the 101st Airborne and the 3rd Marines have secured key installations and command and control locations across Virginia. Admiral Gray, CINCLANT has been relieved of his command and orders have been issued ordering all major US Navy surface ships and the entire Polaris submarine fleet to return to base. All other submarines are to return forthwith to continental waters. US Air Force operations are subject to an indefinite suspension with the exception of units specifically authorized or tasked otherwise by General LeMay.”
Jack Kennedy had asked Shoup to clarify matters for the benefit Marvin Watson and the Acting United States Attorney General.
The President fixed his green grey eyes on Nick Katzenbach.
“The Vice-President and I have agreed a new modus vivendi going forward,” he explained. “We find ourselves living in a World we no longer understand in a nation which needs to be rebuilt. DC is effectively out of commission for the foreseeable future and Lyndon is exploring the possibility of transferring the Capitol to Philadelphia, or maybe New York. Under the new arrangement he gets to rebuild Washington and the other destroyed cities. He also gets to run the Moon Program.”
Nick Katzenbach understood almost everything.
Lyndon Baines Johnson had cut one of his famously hard-headed deals; he never reneged on a contract signed but he always demanded guarantees, a quid pro quo. For example, like the installation of his trusted advisor Marvin Watson at the very heart of the Administration to frustrate the meddling of the Kennedy loyalists.
Katzenbach did not understand why Johnson had commandeered the Moon Program; that was not so much a poisoned chalice it was a straightforward crock of shit!
“The Moon Program?” He asked thoughtfully, suspecting he was missing something important.
“We won the war; now we have to win the peace, Nick.”
The President’s sophistry went over Katzenbach’s head.
Bobby Kennedy stirred.