Iron Orchid

THIRTY

ROBERT KINNEY ARRIVED at the office of the chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee promptly on time, then was required to wait for half an hour while the chairman tended to whatever chores he considered to be more important than seeing the director of the FBI.

Finally, the senator emerged from his office and heartily shook Kinney’s hand. “Good morning, Bob,” he said cheerfully. “Good to see you. Looking forward to your hearing.”

“Good to see you, Senator.”

“Come, let’s walk over to the hearing room together,” the senator said, striding out the door, leading the way.

Kinney, with his long legs, had no trouble keeping up with the shorter man.

“My committee staff tells me you were unhelpful during the staff interview period, Bob. Why was that?”

“I’m sorry, Senator, but as you can imagine, we’re going through a very busy time at the Bureau, and I didn’t really have time to answer questions twice, when once ought to do.” Kinney had infuriated the committee staff by refusing to schedule meetings with them. He was aware that the members of their committee used their report to formulate their questions, and he was happier answering original questions from members without being crawled over by an army of staff ants.

“It’s how we do things, Bob.”

“Senator, this isn’t a talk show, where guests get pre-interviewed by staff before being questioned by the host, is it?”

“Some might say it is, Bob.”

“I’m sorry, I never looked at a Senate hearing as a talk show.”

“Welcome to showbiz, Bob.”

The senator led Kinney into the huge hearing room, which was packed with spectators and press, shook his hand for the cameras and deposited him at the witness table, where he endured a barrage of strobe flashes from the photographers. Kinney had chosen to be seated at the table alone, against the advice of a Bureau lawyer, who was sitting in the first row of seats, looking nervous.

After five minutes of idle chatter and backslapping among the committee members the chairman called them to order, and Kinney was sworn.

“Good morning,” the chairman said. “We sit today for hearings on the president’s appointment of Robert Kinney as director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Mr. Kinney, welcome.”

“Thank you, Mr. Chairman.”

“Let’s begin with your education and experience in law enforcement, Mr. Kinney.”

“I grew up in the Greenwich Village neighborhood of New York City and attended New York University and the NYU law school,” Kinney said. “After that I joined the New York City Police Department as a patrolman, was promoted to detective three years later and spent, in all, twenty-one years in the department, rising to the rank of lieutenant. Then…”

“Excuse me, Mr. Kinney, did you say that you rose only to the rank of lieutenant during your twenty-one years’ service?”

“That’s correct, Mr. Chairman. Lieutenant was the highest rank I could hold and still conduct investigations, which I felt was my strong suit, so I did not seek promotion beyond that level. Captains and above are primarily concerned with administrative matters.”

“I see,” the chairman muttered. “Please go on.”

“I was recruited from the NYPD by the FBI twelve years ago, when the director at that time felt that the Bureau’s investigative techniques needed strengthening. In short, he needed new people who could actually solve crimes. I led investigations into criminal activity designated by the director as special, among them investigations into bank robbery, financial wrongdoing and serial killers. Four years ago I was appointed deputy director for investigations, and after that I oversaw all the criminal investigations conducted by the Bureau.”

“Well, that’s fascinating, Mr. Kinney,” the chairman said drily. “I understand that you and the most recent director had different opinions about one or two things.”

“The most recent director and I disagreed about almost everything,” Kinney replied.

“Can you think of any instance when you felt able to give your director your full support for his actions?”

Kinney thought for a moment. “No, Mr. Chairman. I cannot.”

There was a roar of laughter from the audience in the big hearing room, and the chairman angrily gaveled them into silence. “Did you mean to be funny, Mr. Kinney?”

“No, sir, simply candid.”

“Did you think that your disloyalty to your director made you a better FBI man?”

“Mr. Chairman, my loyalty was to the quality of the investigations conducted by the Bureau. The director’s actions often infringed on that quality, and when that happened, I opposed him.”

“That’s your opinion, is it not?”

“It’s a fact, sir.”

The chairman, looking thoroughly unhappy, passed the questioning on to another senator.

“Mr. Kinney,” the senator began, “the president has proposed that the FBI be severed from the Justice Department and operate as an independent entity. Do you support this recommendation?”

“Yes, Senator, I do, unreservedly.”

“Why don’t you want the supervision of the attorney general?”

“I think we have a fine attorney general, Senator, but I believe the Bureau can operate more effectively if it is independent. In the past, some attorneys general have used the Bureau for political ends, and that is not the Bureau’s purpose.”

“Would you care to be specific about that?”

“No, sir, I would not. I’m not here to criticize former officeholders.”

“Except the former director.”

Kinney simply shrugged. “I answered the questions I was asked.”

“When you were with the New York City Police Department you worked in conjunction with the district attorney’s office, did you not? They prosecuted the cases you investigated. Is that so different from the way the Bureau has worked with the justice department in the past?”

“Yes, Senator, it is. The NYPD is an independent police organization, and it does not report to the district attorney or follow his orders.”

The questioning continued for another two hours. Kinney was, by turns, blunt and charming. Some committee members seemed miffed, but the audience loved him.

When the hearing ended, Kinney was surrounded by reporters and cameras and besieged with questions, which he declined to answer.

____________________

ON THE WAY BACK to the Hoover Building, Kinney called Kerry Smith. “Are you all set for tonight at the Met?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, we are,” Smith replied. “We’ve pulled everybody off everything else in order to saturate Lincoln Center with our people. If he shows, he’ll be ours.”

“Don’t fuck it up,” Kinney said, then hung up.