(1964) The Man (113 page)

Then there was only one before him, the one he could trust. He had conceded Nat Abrahams but a single promise. He would keep his answers concise and to the point. He would, if possible, not permit himself to plead, rise to any bait, or digress. He was ready.

Nat Abrahams was speaking. “You are Douglass Dilman, President of the United States, solemnly sworn on the Holy Book to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of your country to the best of your ability?”

“Yes, sir, I am Douglass Dilman. I have sworn to that oath.”

“You are appearing here, before the tribunal of the Senate, at your own request?”

“I am.”

“You are fully conversant with the charges in the four Articles of Impeachment brought against you?”

“I am.”

“Mr. President, let us swiftly take up the indictments, one by one, and hear your replies, from your own lips, as to their truth or falsity. . . . Mr. President, did you know, at any time before the day of his confession to the fact, that your son, Julian Dilman, was a member of the activist Turnerite Group?”

“No, sir, I did not.”

“Did you request that the Reverend Paul Spinger perform as an intermediary between the government and the Turnerite leaders because you wanted to make some kind of special personal deal with them, or because you wanted to have them come forward and confess or deny the Hattiesburg crime, and open their books to the government?”

“No, I wanted no special personal deal. I gave the Reverend Spinger his only instructions in the presence of the Attorney General.”

“Then you deny the allegation in Article II that you unlawfully hindered the Department of Justice in its prosecution of the Turnerites because you were in conspiracy with the Turnerites?”

“I unequivocally deny that allegation, sir.”

“Why did you delay the outlawing of the Turnerites, as charged?”

“Because, sir, more facts were required in order to make certain, beyond any reasonable doubt, that this extremist society could be prosecuted legally, under the Subversive Activities Control Act. In our society, every citizen, no matter what his religious or political persuasion, is innocent until proved to be guilty. Once the facts were verified, and it was proved that the Group was guilty of subversion, I ordered the banning carried out.”

“Let us examine the specifications in Articles I and III. I have brought them together, because the charges in them are repetitious and overlap. . . . Mr. President, according to previous testimony, you have been a friend of Miss Wanda Gibson, single woman, for five years?”

“That is correct.”

“Did you, as accused, engage in an illicit love relationship with Miss Gibson at any time?”

“I did not. The charge is false.”

“Was your conduct with Miss Gibson, from the day you met her, anything but proper, in the accepted sense?”

“It was nothing else, sir. We were and are now devoted friends. I esteem Miss Gibson above all the women I have known in the last five years. My affection for her is deep and abiding. Our relationship has been one of respect and utmost propriety.”

“You were frequently in the company of Miss Gibson while you were a senator?”

“I was.”

“How many times have you personally visited with her from the night you became President until the impeachment proceedings began?”

“Once, sir. I called upon her the evening after I moved into the White House. The meeting was of brief duration. It took place in the Spingers’ flat, while they were present in that flat.”

“Since becoming President, did you communicate with Miss Gibson by any other means? Did you write to her?”

“No, I did not.”

“Did you exchange telephone calls?”

“Yes, nightly the first days I was in office, but never more than twice a week after that.”

“Did you ever, on any occasion, by any means, since becoming President, relate to her information concerning matters of state?”

“No, sir.”

“You are sure of that, Mr. President?”

“Positively sure of it.”

“Did you discuss any other aspects of your new office with her?”

“Yes. I spoke to her of my worries about having been elevated to such an office. I feared that T. C.’s advisers, the legislators, the military, the Party, in fact, the majority of the public, were not prepared to accept a Negro as President, and that they would resent me and cause me difficulty. I wondered, as all men do when they accidentally have a great responsibility thrust upon them, if I could adequately fill the office and please the electors. But most of all, I told Miss Gibson about my misgivings—my feelings that racial prejudice against me would hamper my freedom to serve my country as a President of all men.”

“That was the extent of it? You never discussed with Miss Gibson, let slip to her, any government information of a confidential nature?”

“Not once, sir, not once. I was always mindful of the responsibility of my office.”

“Mr. President, did you know, at any time during the last two years while Miss Gibson was in the service of Vaduz Exporters, that she was being employed by a Communist Front organization?”

“I did not know that. Miss Gibson has testified she did not know that either. The FBI did not know that. I first heard about it on the very day Miss Gibson suspected what was going on, and the FBI informed me of it, the day the director of the Vaduz organization fled. The company was closed down the next morning.”

“Then you do deny the entire substance of Article I, that with knowledge beforehand or through unintentional indiscretion, you passed on national secrets to a Soviet organization through Miss Gibson?”

“I emphatically deny it, sir. If it were possible to use stronger language, I would deny it in that language. I have never been a party to treason, and neither has Miss Gibson. The House charge is base fiction.”

“So much for Article I, and a portion of III. Let us dispose of the remainder of the charges in Article III. Were you at any time in your past life, or in recent years, addicted to drinking alcohol?”

“No, sir.”

“Were you ever in your life treated for alcoholism by a member of the medical profession?”

“No, sir.”

“Were you ever committed, or did you ever commit yourself, to an institution for alcoholics because of such a habit or disability?”

“No, sir.”

“Let us proceed with the only serious specification in Article III. You have read the indictment presented by the House, and elaborated upon by Miss Sally Watson this afternoon, that you attempted to seduce Miss Watson and did commit bodily harm upon her when she resisted?”

“I have read the indictment. I have seen and heard Miss Watson’s testimony on television.”

“On the night in question, did you order Miss Watson to meet you in your bedroom to confer with you on pending social engagements?”

“No, I did not.”

“But she did visit your bedroom?”

“She did. After the dinner for the Joint Chiefs, I joined them for a documentary film showing. Miss Watson took me aside to say she was intoxicated, and desired to forgo the showing. I advised her to return home. She said she was too drunk and would prefer to lie down first. I told her to do what she thought best. When I came back from the showing, I discovered Miss Watson lying upon my bed in a disheveled and drunken condition. I awakened her and told her I would arrange to have her escorted home. When she tried to get off the bed, her purse fell on the floor and the contents spilled out. I picked up these contents, and saw that among them were numerous index cards. The cards carried notes taken from a CIA document that was in my personal briefcase near the bed.”

“Was the CIA document confidential, Mr. President?”

“It was stamped “Top Secret’ and ‘Eyes Only.’ Miss Watson could not have been unaware of that.”

“What transpired afterward? Did you discuss her motivation in trying to acquire this information?

“We did.”

“Could you repeat your conversation at that time?”

“I would prefer not to.”

“Was anything else, besides her motivation, discussed?”

“Yes. It has no pertinence to this trial.”

“And then?”

“I told Miss Watson to leave. I told her she was fired. After some vituperation—”

“Can you be more explicit?”

“The usual thing, references to my race, and a few threats. Then she departed. It was a sad scene. I can only say here I bear her no animosity. She was, at the time, neither sober nor balanced. Emotional circumstances had driven her to this incredible act. I am sorry for her, but I cannot despise her.”

“You did not, then, in any conceivable way, make improper overtures to Miss Watson, or attempt to detain her forcibly, or do her bodily harm?”

“I did not.”

“Have you anything more to say about this charge, Mr. President?”

“It is untrue, every word of it. It is sheer fantasy, conceived by a fantastic mind and nurtured by other vindictive minds who have chosen to be deceived.”

“Finally, Article IV of the impeachment. You did dismiss Arthur Eaton from your Cabinet and from his position as your Secretary of State?”

“I did, sir,”

“You attempted to replace him with another highly qualified appointee, did you not?”

“I did, sir.”

“You dismissed the Secretary of State without seeking the two-thirds approval of the Senate?”

“I did, sir.”

“Were you aware that there existed a special law, the New Succession Act, passed by both Houses of Congress since you became President, forbidding you to fire a Cabinet member without Senate approval?”

“I was aware of the law. I had believed from the outset, and was supported by some of the best legal authorities in the field, that the law was unconstitutional, and would be so proved when it met its first challenge before the Supreme Court. I remembered that Chief Justice Charles Evans Hughes once remarked, ‘We live under a Constitution, but the Constitution is what the judges say it is.’ From my knowledge of precedent, I was certain the Supreme Court judges would say that the New Succession Act was and is a political measure entirely at odds with the Constitution. It was a measure rushed through merely to protect the old Administration from anticipated removals and appointments by a new Negro President. This law encroached upon the Constitution, which gives the Senate the right to advise and consent on a Presidential appointment, but gives the President himself the sole power to remove his appointees from office. I fired Eaton summarily, because I felt it necessary to do so, because I believed I had the legal right to do so, because I believed Congress had no right to dictate to the executive branch or freeze into its Cabinet posts the choices of a deceased President, and because I wanted a disgraceful and illegitimate piece of legislation put to constitutional test.”

“And so you found it necessary to dismiss Arthur Eaton? Why, Mr. President? Why, specifically, did you remove this veteran public servant from office?”

“Because I was determined to preserve our government’s system of checks and balances, which requires that our three branches—the executive, the legislative, and the judicial—remain separate and strong. I learned, and had proof of the fact, that the Secretary of State, with the approval of the legislative branch of our government, was attempting to usurp the powers of the Presidency and conduct the business of the White House from the offices of the Department of State. To save the Presidency, I had no choice but to get rid of him. I fired him. In retaliation, I presume, he and his associates impeached me.”

“Mr. President, since the memorable moment you took the oath of office, do you believe you have performed your tasks diligently, soberly, honestly, without prejudice, with consideration for the rights of all men and a sincere concern for the welfare of the United States, and have you attempted to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution and this democracy?”

“This I believe—I have tried. To the best of my ability I have tried, Mr. Manager.”

“Thank you, Mr. President.”

Douglass Dilman’s grip on the chair relaxed. He thought that he detected the slightest smile on Nat Abrahams’ face as Abrahams nodded at the bench, then turned and went back to the defense table.

Dilman had so concentrated on his friend’s questions that he had been unable to observe or evaluate the reaction to his replies in the silent, alert Senate Chamber.

But now the Chamber seemed to come alive, and then the Chief Justice’s gavel fell.

“The senators will be attentive. The counsel for the House of Representatives will proceed with his cross-examination.”

For the first time since assuming the Presidency, since his travail and then trial had begun, Douglass Dilman found himself face to face with the custodian of all the hatred that had been directed toward him.

Zeke Miller’s mocking gray eyes boldly met his own unblinking gaze. Miller’s veiny nostrils were dilated, and his mouth fixed in a crooked line. He hooked his thumbs into his lapel buttonholes, assumed his favorite spread-legged stance, and appeared to be inspecting his quarry with a huntsman’s pleasure.

Dilman’s shoulder and chest muscles involuntarily contracted, as if preparing for a blow. Warily, he waited.

“We-ll, Mr. President of the United States of America, I did not expect to see you come down among us. This is a surprise and a privilege for us, an historic occasion, and we welcome you, heartily welcome you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Manager.”

“However, at the risk of seeming downright inhospitable after your taking this trouble to ride to the Hill, I am afraid I must pose some questions that may give you discomfort, questions that your friend and counsel overlooked asking, in his blindfolded search for the truth about your behavior and competence. I hope you will be as tolerant of Zeke Miller’s questions, the questions the House has requested me to propound, as you were of your friend Nathan Abrahams’ questions.”

“I will do my best to be tolerant of your questions, Mr. Manager.”

“Well, now, I guess it would be fitting to take up the matters under review in the order your own friend and counsel arranged them. Would that be suitable to you, Mr. President of the United States?”