American tabloid

5

Ward was scared. Kemper knew why: Mr. Hoover’s private briefings spawned legends.

They waited in his outer office. Ward sat hold-your-breath still. Kemper knew: he’ll be twenty minutes late exactly.

He wants Ward cowed. He wants me here to buttress the effect.

He’d already phoned in his report: The Shoftel job went perfectly. A Los Angeles-based agent was assigned to monitor the bug and wiretap recordings from a listening post and forward the salient tapes to Littell in Chicago. Ace wire man Ward would cull them-and send the best excerpts to Mr. Hoover.

Jack wasn’t due in L.A. until December 9th. Darleen Shoftel was servicing four tricks a night-the listening-post man praised her stamina. The L.A. Times ran a brief mention of Sol Maltzman’s suicide. Mr. Hoover said Pete Bondurant probably “fired him” rather harshly.

Ward crossed his legs and straightened his necktie. Don’t: Mr. Hoover hates fidgeters. He ordered us here to reward you-so please do not fidget.

Hoover walked in. Kemper and Littell stood up.

“Gentlemen, good morning.”

They said, “Good morning, Sir”-in unison, with no overlap.

“I’m afraid this will have to be brief. I’m meeting Vice President Nixon shortly.”

Littell said, “I’m very pleased to be here, Sir.”

Kemper almost winced: Do not interject comments, however servile.

“My schedule forces me to effect brevity. Mr. Littell, I appreciate the job you and Mr. Boyd did in Los Angeles. I’m rewarding you with a position on the Chicago Top Hoodlum Squad. I’m doing this at the displeasure of SAC Leahy, who considers you best suited for political surveillance work. I realize, Mr. Littell, that you consider the CPUSA ineffectual, if not moribund. I deem this attitude dangerously fatuous, and sincerely hope you’ll outgrow it. You’re a personal colleague of mine now, but I warn you not to be seduced by the dangerous life. You can’t possibly be as good at it as Kemper Boyd is.”