Presidential Agent Read online

  “Just now,” said the Chief Executive, “I am in the midst of the hottest fight yet, brought on by my efforts to reform the Supreme Court. Those nine old gentlemen in their solemn black robes have blocked one after another of our New Deal measures, and the whole future of our program depends upon my efforts to break that stranglehold. I have called for an increase in the number of the justices, and this is called ‘packing the court,’ and is considered the opening wedge for Bolshevism. There is nothing the enemies of this plan will not do or say.” The President told some things they had done, and after one tale of senatorial skullduggery he asked: “What do you think of that?”

  Lanny said: “I think it shows you are almost as indiscreet as the previous Roosevelt.” This brought another burst of laughter, and after it they were friends.

  XII

  The son of Budd-Erling judged that it was time to bring up the subject which lay nearest to his heart: the peril to the democratic nations involved in the Nazi-Fascist preparations for war, and the demonstration of their program they were now giving on the Iberian peninsula. Lanny told about the trips he had made into Spain, and what he had learned there.

  “It is called a ‘Civil War,’ Mr. President, but it is nothing of the sort; it is an invasion of a free people by the Italian and German dictators. Its purpose is to give them practice in the use of their new tanks and airplanes, and to establish landing-fields and submarine bases to attack the shipping of the free nations when the real war begins.”

  Lanny described the Spanish ruling classes. “I have played tennis with King Alfonso; I know his set on the Riviera and I have met many of the same sort in Paris and London and in Spain itself. I believe they are the most ignorant, vain, and arrogant aristocracy in Europe. The younger set have learned to drive motorcars, and a few of them to fly, but that is as far as they have got with anything modern; I would have difficulty in naming half a dozen among them who have read a book. Their interest is in playing polo, shooting tame pigeons, gambling, and chasing women. They are superstitious, and at the same time utterly cynical; about government they know nothing, and if their man Franco wins this war they will turn the country into a paradise for Juan March and speculators like him, and a dungeon for every enlightened man and woman.”

  “I have no reason for doubting your opinion, Mr. Budd. If I could have my way, governments in many parts of the world would be changed. But I am not the ruler of any part of Europe.”

  “I believe, sir, that you have the say about the matter which is of greatest importance to the Spanish people’s government. I am told that up to this year it has been the invariable rule in international affairs that any established government has the right to buy whatever arms it needs for its own defense. That rule was rescinded last January, and it was you who urged Congress to do it. I couldn’t understand it then, and I understand it even less now, when you see that it means the death of one of the most enlightened and progressive of governments.”

  It was a challenge, deliberately made bold; Lanny all but held his breath while he waited for the reaction of the great man in front of him.

  The great man paused to think, and to light a cigarette in a long thin holder. The smile had gone out of the blue eyes, and a grave look had come upon the genial features. “Mr. Budd, you ask me about what has been and still is one of the most painful decisions of my life. I am called a dictator, but you know that such a role is farthest from my wishes or my thoughts. I am the duly elected executive officer of a great democratic people; I am pledged to uphold government by public opinion, and I can do only what the people will let me.”

  “Of course, Mr. President; but you can sometimes lead the people.”

  “Up to a certain point, but never beyond it. I can present them with one or two new ideas at a time. If I go too fast or too far, and lose contact with them, then I am powerless to accomplish any of the things I wish. The constant study of my life has to be: ‘How fast can I move? How far will the public follow me? Dare I do this? Dare I do that?’ Such is the art of government in a democracy, Mr. Budd; often it does not seem heroic, but it is the best way that I know of. It is slow, but also it is sure.”

  XIII

  The President took a couple of pulls at the long thin cigarette holder; at the same time watching his hearer, seeking to read the effect of his words. He resumed: “Call me statesman or politician, the fact remains that I must keep in power or I accomplish nothing. And I am not operating in a vacuum, but in a set of circumstances which I am unable to alter. I am the head of the Democratic Party in the summer of 1937. Have you made any study of this party?”

  “I am afraid I don’t know my own country as well as I ought to,” replied this foreign-born and foreign-raised American.

  “In my thoughts I compare myself to a man driving three horses; they had such a hitch-up in old-time Russia—a troika. I cannot go anywhere unless I can persuade the three horses to take me; if any one of them balks, the troika comes to a halt. One of these horses is young and wild; that is my New Deal group, backed by organized labor and its sympathizers, the intellectuals; they want to gallop all the time, and I have to put a curb-bit in that horse’s mouth. The second is much older, and inclined to be mulish; that is my block of Southern states. Those states are run by a land-owning aristocracy, and by new industrialists who are still in the pre-labor-union stage of political thinking. The poor, whether white or black, are largely disfranchised by the poll tax; therefore, the majority of congressmen and senators from the South are always looking for a reason to desert the New Deal. Right now they are finding one in the ‘court-packing’ program. You have read some of their utterances, I suppose.”

  “I have.”

  “And then my third horse, a nervous and skittish steed which I seldom dare to mention by name. You will consider my naming it confidential, please?”

  “Of course, Mr. President.”

  “My Roman Catholic charger. There are twenty million Catholics in this country, and the great bulk of them think and vote as their Church advises. That is especially true of those of foreign descent—Irish, Italians, Germans, Poles. They are strong in our great cities, New York and Boston, Chicago and St. Louis and San Francisco, and their vote determines any close election. They have been told that General Franco is defending their faith against atheistic Reds.”

  “What they have been told is Franco propaganda, and mostly false.”

  “That may be so—but will they believe it from a Protestant? I must have their support for my domestic program; so there I am.”

  That was all the President said; but later on Lanny learned from Professor Alston that the heads of the hierarchy had come to Washington and “talked cold turkey”; in other words, votes. They had said: “Either you keep arms from the Spanish Reds or else we defeat your party.” They could elect Republicans to Congress next year and bring to nought F.D.’s Supreme Court reform plan. They had threatened in so many words to do it.

  “Mr. Roosevelt,” remarked the visitor, “what you say is almost identical with what Léon Blum has told me. He carried an election on a program of domestic reforms, and is very proud of having pushed them all through. But he had to pay the price which the reactionaries exacted—no aid for Spain. I have warned him in vain—what good will it do him to nationalize the armament industry of France while Hitler is permitted to arm and prepare to overwhelm him? What will be the position of France with a Fascist Spain at her back door and German submarines using harbors on the Atlantic and the Mediterranean?”

  “The danger to France is plain enough, because Hitler is just across the border; but you can’t use that argument with Americans, three thousand miles away from trouble. Believe me, Mr. Budd, the great mass of our people have just one thought with regard to the European mess: they want to keep out of it. They have no ifs, ans, or buts on the subject; they just say: ‘Let Europe go to hell in its own way, but keep us out.’ They fly into a fit at the thought of anything that might get us in—such as, for e
xample, the sinking of an American ship carrying munitions to either side in the Spanish war.”

  “Will they feel that way, Mr. President, when they see the Reichswehr rolling into Paris, and General Göring’s bombing planes destroying London?”

  “The American people will believe that when they see it; and meantime there’s no use in you or me trying to tell it to them. I can say to Congress: ‘These are dangerous times, and we must have ships and planes to defend ourselves,’ and I can get away with that; but if I should say one word about defending the interests of any other nation or group, I would raise up a storm that would bowl me over. Believe me, I know my master’s voice, and when I hear it, I have no choice but to obey. If you want to save Spain, persuade your French friends to stick out their necks; or better yet, persuade Mr. Chamberlain and his Cabinet, the real authors and sustainers of the Non-Intervention policy. If the British cannot see that it is their fight, surely nobody can ask me to take it on my shoulders.”

  XIV

  So that was that. Lanny was just about to get up and offer to take his leave, but his host had something on his mind and said, abruptly: “Charlie Alston has told me a lot about you, Mr. Budd, all of it good. He thinks I ought to make some use of your abilities.”

  Lanny wasn’t entirely surprised; he had guessed what was in his onetime employer’s mind. He said: “I am afraid, sir, I haven’t enough training to be of any real use to anybody.”

  “Very few of us have had training for the work we are doing, Mr. Budd; it is all too new. We have to learn as we go along; we try things and see what happens.”

  “Mr. Roosevelt,” said the grown-up playboy, earnestly; “you are paying me a compliment, and I would hate to seem not to appreciate it. I believe with all my heart in what you are doing, and I would love to be of use to you. But I have ties which compel me to return to Europe and make it impossible for me to settle down to a regular life.”

  “There might be things you could do for me in Europe, and they wouldn’t have to be ‘regular.’”

  There was a silence, with Lanny thinking hard. He glanced about him to make sure they were alone in the room; then, lowering his voice, he began: “There is something I should have to tell you about my own life, before I could be of any service to you. It is so much of a secret that I didn’t mention it to Professor Alston; I haven’t told even my father and mother, whom I love. Not merely my own life but many others might depend upon it.”

  “I am used to receiving confidences, Mr. Budd; and you may be sure that I keep them.”

  “This must never under any circumstances be told or even hinted to any other person.”

  “I promise—unless, of course, it is something contrary to the interests of the United States.”

  “It is nothing of that nature. Many years ago I met in Berlin a young couple, artists, also ardent Social-Democrats, working for freedom and enlightenment in their country. When the Nazis came in, this couple took up what is called underground work; the man was caught, and no doubt has been dead for years. The woman went on with her dangerous tasks in Berlin, and I used to give her money which I earned as commissions on picture deals. When the Gestapo had got all her associates and were hot on her trail, I managed to smuggle her across the border. A year or more later we were secretly married in England. You can see how that dominates my life, and makes it impossible for me to be ‘regular.’”

  “You mean that she is still going on with her activities?”

  “Nothing could induce her to stop. I ramble over Europe, buying pictures for American clients and earning sums of money which I turn over to her. I needn’t go into details about what she does; it is a question of getting the truth into a country which has fallen into the hands of the Prince of Lies.”

  “I quite understand, Mr. Budd; and naturally I sympathize with such efforts.”

  “I make use of the social position of my mother and father, and of their friends; also, of course, the reputation I have been able to build up as an art expert. That gives me a legitimate reason for going into any country, meeting prominent persons, and hearing what the insiders are saying. I have visited Hitler at the Braune Haus in Munich, and at his Berchtesgaden retreat. I have been on hunting trips with General Göring, and had him try to hire me as his secret agent. As I told Professor Alston, I refuse his money, but promise to tell him things in friendship; what I tell him is news I am sure he already knows, or that won’t do any particular harm.”

  “Fabulous, Mr. Budd! Might it not be worth while for you to visit me now and then, and tell me what you learn from General Göring?”

  “I have thought of it, sir. What I am afraid of is, it might kill my opportunities in Germany, and put the Gestapo on my trail. You live of necessity in a glare of publicity; and because I was until recently married to a very rich woman, I too have had more than my share of attention. Many reporters know me, and how could I come to the White House without its arousing curiosity? I don’t need to tell you that the German embassy has its swarm of spies, and that everything of interest is cabled in code to Berlin.”

  “All that is true; but it happens that I often have to act secretly, and I have ways of arranging it. There is a so-called ‘social door’ to the White House, and my friends often slip in unobserved. Also, I have among my personal bodyguards a man whom I have known from his boyhood, and whom I trust. He wouldn’t have to know your name; we would agree upon a code word, and any time you got in touch with him and gave that word, he would report it to me and I would set a time for him to bring you. You would be known as a ‘P.A.,’ that is, ‘Presidential Agent,’ and would have a number. I believe the next number is 103.”

  “Very well, Mr. President. If you feel that I can be of use to you in that way, I will do my best.”

  “Keep an expense account; it will come out of my secret fund.”

  “No, that is not necessary. I am able to earn plenty of money; I have to, because that is my camouflage.”

  “But you like to use the money for your cause, do you not?”

  “I sometimes earn more than can be safely spent by my wife and her associates; and what I do for you would add nothing to my expenses. Let me be one of your dollar-a-year men.”

  XV

  F.D.R. pressed a button on his desk and the woman secretary appeared. “Missy,” he said, “I want to speak to Gus at once.” When the woman had gone he said to Lanny: “Choose a code name. Something unusual and easy to remember.”

  The visitor thought. “How about Zaharoff?”

  “Fine!” said the other, with a chuckle. “How long do you plan to be in this country?”

  “A couple of weeks. I am here to report to some of my clients.”

  “Will you be able to see me again before you leave?”

  “Certainly, if you wish.”

  “I may be able to think up a list of questions to ask you, and matters about which you might try to get information for me.”

  “You will hear from me without fail.”

  A youngish man built like a college fullback entered the room. “Gus,” said the President, “this gentleman is a very special friend whom I shall be seeing now and then. Look him over carefully so that you will know him whenever you meet him. You are not to know his name; we have chosen a code name which he will make use of over the phone, or by mail or wire. The name is Zaharoff. Fix that in your memory.”

  “Zaharoff. O.K., Chief.”

  “Whenever he calls or wires you, you will name a time and place where he can get you again in a few hours, and then you will come to me, and I will make an appointment so that you can bring him to me. Nobody else is to know anything about him, and you are not to mention him under any circumstances. Is that clear?”

  “O.K., Chief.”

  “You will give him the phone numbers of your hotels in Washington and in Poughkeepsie, and any other place where he is likely to find you.” Then, turning to his visitor: “Could you make it convenient to call in a week or two?”


  “You bet,” replied Lanny, doing his best to make himself at home in the land of his fathers.

  “His name is Gus Gennerich, and he used to be a New York cop. Talk to him a little, so that he will know your voice over the phone.”

  Lanny turned to the ex-policeman, who had never taken his eyes off him for a moment. “Mr. Gennerich, I have just been spending a couple of the most interesting hours of my life. I have been meeting a great man and a wise man whom we can trust. He is doing a job for all of us, and we have to be ready to protect him with our lives. You agree with that, I am sure.”

  “I do, sir.”

  “The name we have agreed upon is that of a Greek peasant boy who was born in a Turkish village and who came to be at one time the richest man in the world. He was called the munitions king of Europe, and he was the embodiment of everything that we in America dislike and distrust. Z-A-H-A-R-O-F-F, with the accent on the first syllable. You think now you will know me and my voice?”

  “I think so.”

  Lanny took out his notebook and jotted down the phone numbers which the man gave him. The President said: “That is all, Gus,” and the man went out.

  “Mr. President,” declared Lanny, “you have done me a great honor, and I appreciate it.”

  “A lot of my friends call me ‘Governor,’” replied the other. “It is easier to say, and reminds me of the days when I had only one forty-eighth of the burdens I have now. May I follow Charlie Alston’s example and call you Lanny?”

  “Indeed you may; and be sure that if you give me a commission, I will do my very best to carry it out. Unless I am mistaken we have hard and dangerous times ahead of us, and you will need men whom you can trust.”

  “I need more of them right now, Lanny, and if you know any, tell me about them. I meant to invite you to stay and have afternoon coffee with us; that is a sort of institution in our family, and you would meet my mother and a couple of my secretaries. But in view of the plans we have in mind, I think you had better just walk out quietly.”