She glared up at him, covered her breast, and then pulled her bodice over the brassière, and said to Miller, “That’s from my resisting, and don’t think anybody could have done it but that nigger. I was alone with him tonight, in his room, and Governor Talley is holding the proof of it in those cards, some things I copied from Dilman’s papers in his room.”
A rumbling came from deep in Senator Hankins’ throat. “Young lady, in all my years in public service, I never heard of a more dastardly indignity perpetrated on helpless young womanhood. I pledge you-” He slapped his hip. “I pledge my last resources to drive the culprit responsible for this from our capital city.”
Sally seemed momentarily mesmerized by Hankins’ gallantry. “Thank you, Senator. I-I only want justice done.”
Zeke Miller was in a fury. “Justice is too good for that drunken lechering Nigra, Miss Sally,” he shouted. “Lynching is what he deserves. Your word is enough for us to-”
“It’s not me alone,” said Sally. “It’s not as if this were an isolated example of his immorality.”
“Meaning what?” Miller demanded. “Be free to tell us everything you know.”
Sally looked at the men around her. “You mean you don’t know about his mistress?”
Miller’s exhalation of amazement and pleasure became a whistle. “You know this for sure?” he bayed.
“Of course!” Sally exclaimed heatedly. “When I was leaving him tonight, I told him to his face I wasn’t going to become another Wanda Gibson-being kept by him in some back street-well, you should have seen him. It stopped him in his tracks. He didn’t know anyone but the Spingers knew about it, but I know, and I’m positive Edna Foster knows.”
Senator Hankins stirred erect, some confusion on his wrinkled face. “What was the lady’s name again?”
“Wanda Gibson,” said Sally. “She’s a young nigger woman. Dilman had her living upstairs in his brownstone when he was-before he became President. She’s still there, and he went over there the night after he moved into the White House. In fact, he tried to bring her into the White House, invited her to the State Dinner for Amboko-I know, because I sent the invitation-but I guess she was afraid to show up. Anyway, this Wanda Gibson, she’s the one who called him today-she works for the Vaduz Exporters in a highly confidential job-she called him today to say they’d been found out-meaning the FBI found out her boss and company were a Communist Russian Front, and to warn him-”
Eaton stepped forward. “No need going into that now, Sally.”
“Hey, now, Arthur, one minute, now. Goldarn, this sounds like something big,” said Miller. He touched Sally’s knee. “Are you saying that the President of the United States, Nigra or not, the President of America has been living clandestinely with a Nigra female who’s working for the Soviet Russians?”
“That’s right.”
Miller had become transformed into a quivering hunting dog. “Hey, now, if those are the facts-”
“They are the facts,” said Sally fervently. She pointed to Talley. “He’s holding some more of the evidence on those cards, copied directly from a meeting Dilman had this afternoon with Mr. Scott. It’s all there.”
Miller turned to Talley, eyes gleaming. “True, Governor?”
Talley fanned the cards nervously. “Well-uh-in so far as Vaduz Exporters being a Red Front-yes-it’s been uncovered that they’ve been shipping arms to-to Soviet countries, who dispose of them mainly in Africa. And the President evidently has a woman friend who has been working in that firm, Miss Gibson-yes-but, of course, I’d have no knowledge about their relationship.”
Miller held his palms apart and then smacked them together vigorously. “Open-and-shut!” he announced. “You want treason, bribery, and high crimes, Arthur? Okay, what’s this? The President of this country consorting regularly with a lady friend who works for the Communists, talking bedroom talk, letting out secrets on purpose or inadvertently, on purpose to help his fellow niggers in Africa or inadvertently because he’s trading secrets for sex. If that’s not treason, what is? The President delaying prosecution of nigger extremists like the Turnerites in return for them not squealing about his son being a member, and then a pure white judge getting killed as a result. If that’s not bribery by blackmail, what is? High crimes and misdemeanors? Meaning loose morals, maladministration, intemperate habits? If the President’s fornicating with a mistress, trying to seduce his helpless white social secretary, added on to his record for drunkenness, if that doesn’t qualify him, what does? Arthur, it’s open-and-shut. The Nigra goes out, and you come in.”
For Eaton, it was rolling too fast now. He wanted time to think. “We’ll see,” he said quietly, “we’ll have to see.”
Talley stood up. “I’m afraid Dilman won’t give us much time, Arthur.” He indicated the index cards in his hand. “Miss Watson recorded most of the private meeting with Scott. Dilman knows everything. He knows for certain we withheld the report from CIA on Baraza. He knows what was in that report, because Scott was able to tell him. Dilman was apparently angry as hell, and ordered more agents and funds to be allotted to investigate the situation in Baraza. He told Scott to bypass us from now on and come straight to him. He said from now on he’s running the government, not letting us do it for him.” Talley massaged his jowls worriedly. “I tell you, Arthur, we’re in for trouble from that man.”
“What kind of trouble can he give us?” said Eaton testily. “Be realistic. What has he got on us now-considering what we’ve got on him? After tonight, that incident with Sally, he knows what he’s in for. He won’t lift his voice to us. He won’t dare say a word.”
“Maybe you’re right,” said Talley.
“I know I’m right,” said Eaton.
He could see that Miller and Sally had been holding a whispered conversation, and that now Sally was trying to rise and Miller was assisting her. Eaton hastened to them, and took Sally’s other arm.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked solicitously.
“Arthur, Arthur,” she said, “I’m suddenly so sleepy. Did you give me something? I forget. Did you give me pills?”
“Yes, I wanted you to rest. I’ll take you into the library-”
Zeke Miller blocked them from leaving. “Only one thing, Arthur, and I’ve asked Miss Sally and she’s agreed, fully agreed. I’m notifying Casper Wine and his boys to come on the double right over here. I want to dictate everything Sally told us as it came straight from her lips. He’ll type it up as a legal affidavit, and then Miss Sally said we could waken her and she’d sign. She’s cooperating to the limit.”
“Whatever she wishes is agreeable to me,” said Eaton.
Sally was leaning heavily on his shoulder now, and Eaton’s arm encircled her as he began to lead her from the room.
He heard the telephone ringing-strange, at this improbable hour-and he waved at Talley to take it. Then he waited, propping Sally up, watching Talley on the telephone, unable to hear him. The call lasted no more than twenty seconds, and then Talley slowly hung up.
Eaton’s gaze stayed on Talley as he came from the telephone and approached them. Talley’s face was drawn and grave, a portrait of apprehension.
“Arthur,” he said in a hoarse whisper, “that was Edna Foster, from the White House. She’s just left the President. He ordered her to call you, to wake you if necessary. Dilman wants you in his office at nine o’clock sharp tomorrow morning. He wants to talk to you about an important and personal matter. She hit the personal matter. She hit the personal matter pretty hard.”
“I see.”
“I think this is it, Arthur. The fat’s in the fire. I think this is the showdown. He’s got the gun now.”
“So have we-now,” said Eaton grimly. “Only what we possess is not a gun but a howitzer.” He freed himself from Sally Watson, who was half asleep, and offered her limp arm to Talley. “Here, Wayne, you take her to the library, and see that she is comfortable. Treat her with care. She may be worth her weight in ammunition.”