B)-Littell’s Bureau arrest record going back to 1950 was checked with an eye toward uncovering recently paroled felons perhaps inclined toward vengeance. A list of twelve men was compiled, and all twelve were alibi-cleared. I recalled Litteil’s 1952 arrest of one Pierre “Pete” Bondurant, and how the man taunted Littell during detainment procedures. Agents checked Bondurant’s whereabouts during the assault time frame and confirmed that he was in Florida.
The pro-Communist profile of Littell continues to develop. Litteli remains a confirmed friend of long-term subversive Mal Chamales and phone tap logs now pinpoint a total of nine Littell/Chamales telephone conversations, all of which contain lengthy expressions of Littell’s sympathy for left-wing causes and expressions of his disdain for FBI “witch hunting.” On May 10th I called Littell and ordered him to implement immediate lockstep surveillance on Mal Chamales. Five minutes later Litteil called Chamales and warned him. Chamales addressed a Socialist Labor Party meeting that afternoon. Littell and a trusted Bureau informant attended, unknown to each other. The informant presented me with a verbatim transcript of Chamales’ seditious, virulently anti-Bureau, antiHoover remarks. Littell’s May 10th report on the meeting called these remarks noninflammatory. The report was filled with numerous other outright lies and distortions of a treasonous nature.
Sir, I believe it is now time to confront Littell on both his lack of cooperation in the assault matter and more pertinently on his recent seditious actions. Will you please respond? I think this demands immediate action.
Respectfully,
Charles Leahy
DOCUMENT INSERT: 6/11/60. FBI Memorandum: Director J. Edgar Hoover to Chicago SAC Charles Leahy.
Mr. Leahy,
Per Ward Littell: do nothing yet. Put Littell back on CPUSA surveillance duties, relax the surveillance on him and keep me informed of the assault investigation.
JEH
DOCUMENT INSERT: 7/9/60. Official FBI Telephone Call Transcript: “Recorded at the Director’s Request”/”Classified Confidential 1-A: Director’s Eyes Only.” Speaking: Director Hoover, Special Agent Kemper Boyd.
KB: Good afternoon, Sir.
JEH: Kemper, I’m peeved at you. You’ve been avoiding me for some time.
KB: I wouldn’t put it that way, Sir.
JEH: Of course you wouldn’t. You’d put it in a way calculated to minimize my rancor. The question is, would you have contacted me if I hadn’t contacted you?
KB: Yes, Sir. I would have.
JEH: Before or after the coronation of King Jack the First?
KB: I wouldn’t call the coronation a sure thing, Sir.
JEH: Does he have a delegate majority?
KB: Almost. I think he’ll be nominated on the first ballot.
JEH: And you think he’ll win.
KB: Yes, I’m reasonably certain.
JEH: I can’t dispute that. Big Brother and America have all the earmarks of a fatuous love affair.
KB: He is going to retain you, Sir.
JEH: Of course he is. Every President since Calvin Coolidge has, and you should temper your distancing process with the knowledge that Prince Jack will be in office for a maximum of eight years, while I shall remain in office until the Millennium.
KB: I’ll keep that in mind, Sir.
JEH: I would advise you to. You should also be advised that my interest in Big Brother extends beyond the confines of wishing to keep my job. Unlike you, I have altruistic concerns, such as the internal security of our nation. Unlike you, my primary concern is not self-preservation and monetary advancement. Unlike you, I do not credit the ability to dissemble as my single greatest skill.
KB: Yes, Sir.
JEH: Allow me to interpret your reluctance to contact me. Were you afraid I would ask you to introduce Big Brother to Bureau-friendly women?
KB: Yes and no, Sir.
JEH: Meaning?
KB: Meaning Little Brother doesn’t entirely trust me. Meaning the primary campaign schedule was hectic and only left me time to procure local call girls. Meaning I might have been able to house Big Brother in hotel rooms with standing Bureau bugs, but Little Brother has been around law enforcement for years, and he just might know that co-opt bugs like that exist.
JEH: I always reach a certain point with you.
KB: Meaning?
JEH: Meaning I don’t know whether or not you’re lying, and to one degree or another I don’t care.
KB: Thank you, Sir.
JEH: You’re welcome. It was an appalling compliment, but a sincere one. Now, are you going to Los Angeles fur the convention?
KB: I’m leaving tomorrow. I’ll be staying at the downtown Statler.
JEH: You’ll be contacted. King Jack will not want for female friendship should he find himself bored between accolades. -
KB: Electronically-adorned friends?
JEH: No, just good listeners. We’ll talk about some co-opt work during the fall campaign, if Little Brother trusts you with travel plans…
KB: Yes, Sir.
JEH: Who assaulted Ward Littell?
KB: I’m not sure, Sir.
JEH: Have you spoken to Littell?
KB: Helen Agee called and told me about the beating. I called Ward at the hospital, but he refused to tell me who did It.
JEH: Pete Bondurant comes to mind. He’s involved in your Cuban escapades, isn’t he?
KB: Yes, he is.
JEH: Yes, he is, and?
KB: And we talk as Agency business dictates.
JEH: The Chicago Office was satisfied with Bondurant’s alibi. The alibi-giver was a reputed Heroin trafficker with numerous rape convictions inside Cuba, but as Al Capone once said, an alibi is an alibi.
KB: Yes, Sir. And as you once said, antiCommunism breeds strange bedfellows.
JEH: Goodbye, Kemper. I very much hope that our next communique is at your instigation.
KB: Goodbye, Sir.
47
The clerk handed him a gold-plated key. “We had a reservations glitch, sir. Your room was inadvertently given away, but we’re going to give you a suite at our regular room rate.”
Check-ins pushed up to the desk. Kemper said, “Thanks. It’s a glitch I can live with.”
The clerk shuffled papers. “May I ask you a question?”
“Let me guess. If my room is being charged to the Kennedy campaign, why am I staying here instead of at the Biltmore with the rest of the staff?”
“Yes, sir. That’s it exactly.”
Kemper winked. “I’m a spy.”
The clerk laughed. Some delegate types waved to get his attention.
Kemper brushed past them and elevatored up to the twelfth floor. His suite: the double-doored, gold-sealed, all-antique Presidential.
He walked through it. He savored the appointments and checked out the north-by-northeast view.
Two bedrooms, three TVs and three phones. Complimentary champagne in a pewter ice bucket marked with the U.S. presidential seal.
He deciphered the “glitch” instantly: J. Edgar Hoover at work.
He wants to scare you. He’s saying, “I own you.” He’s satirizing your Kennedy fervor and love of hotel suites.
He wants potential bug/tap intelligence.
Kemper turned on the living-room TV. Convention commentary hit the screen.
He turned on the other sets-and boosted the volume way up.
He grid-searched the suite. He found condensor mikes inside five table lamps and fake panels behind the bathroom mirrors.
He found two auxiliaries spackled into the living-room wainscoting. Tiny perforations served as sound ducts- nonprofessionals would never spot them. He checked out the telephones. All three were tapped.