Two men walked by in shirtsleeves and shoulder holsters. Littell remembered them: the phone guys rigging lines outside his apartment.

Leahy’s door swung open. A man stuck his head out. Littell remembered him: that guy at the post office yesterday.

The door closed. Voices seeped through it: “Littell,” “the Agee girl.”

He kicked the door off its hinges. He framed the scene a la Mal Chamales. -

Four gray-flannel fascists in conference. Four parasitic, exploitative, right-wing-

Littell said, “Remember what I know. Remember how I can hurt the Bureau.”

o o o

He bought wire cutters, safety goggles, magnetic shielding strips, a glass cutter, rubber gloves, a 10-gauge shotgun, a hundred rounds of double-aught buckshot, a box of industrial dynamite, three hundred yards of acoustical baffling, a hammer, nails and two large duffel bags.

He stored his car in a service garage.

He rented a ‘57 Ford Victoria-with fake Cointelpro ID.

He bought three quarts of scotch-just enough to wean himself thy.

He drove south to Sioux City, Iowa.

He turned in his rental car and caught a train north to Milwaukee.

DOCUMENT INSERT: 10/17/60. Confidential memorandum: John Stanton to Kemper Boyd.

Kemper,

I got a disquieting phone call from Guy Banister, so I thought I’d pass the information along to you. You’re hard to reach these days, so I hope this gets to you within a reasonable length of time.

Guy’s friends with the Miami SAC, who’s tight with the CO of the Miami PD Intelligence Squad. The Squad keeps suspected pro-Castro Cubans under loose surveillance, with routine license plate checks on all the male Latins they are spotted with. Our man Wilfredo Olmos Delsol was seen on two occasions with Gaspar Ramon Blanco, age 37, a known pro-Communist member of the Committee for Cuban Understanding, a Raul Castrofinanced propaganda front. This troubles me, chiefly because of PB’s set-to with Delsol’s cousin Tomas Obregon. Have PB check this out, would you? Our compartmentalization procedures preclude my contacting him directly.

All best,

John

52

The pilot announced a late arrival. Kemper checked his watch- Pete’s allotted time just evaporated.

Pete caught up with him in Omaha this morning. He said, I’ve got something for you-something you’ll want to see.

He promised that the stopover would take no more than twenty minutes. He said, I’ll put you on the next plane back to Jack.

Miami twinkled below. He had crucial work in Omaha- postponed by this six-hour detour.

The race was too close to call. Nixon might have a slight edge-with eighteen days left to go.

He called Laura from the departure lounge. She lit into his Kennedy ties. Claire kept saying that Laura ached for a Nixon victory.

Claire said FBI men questioned her last month. Their sole topic was Ward Littell’s politics.

The agents intimidated her. They cautioned her not to mention the interview to her father.

Claire broke the promise and called him three days ago. He called Ward immediately.

His phone rang and rang. The rings had a distinct wiretap pitch.

He called Court Meade to check on Ward’s whereabouts. Meade said Ward kicked the SAC’s door down and vanished.

Claire called him in Omaha last night. She said the Bureau got Helen’s law school grant revoked.

Mr. Hoover stopped calling him two days ago. It all connected somehow. The campaign had him running too fast to be scared.

Crosswinds roughed up their descent. The plane taxied in with a flshtailing whoosh.

Kemper checked his window. He saw Pete standing outside, with the ground crew. The men were palming cash rolls and fawning at the big guy with the money.

Landing stairs locked in. Kemper crowded up to the door.

The co-pilot cranked it open. There’s Pete-with a baggage cart parked on the runway, right below them.

Kemper took the steps three at a time. Pete grabbed him and cupped a yell. “Your plane’s delayed! We’ve got half an hour!”

Kemper jumped on the cart. Pete gunned it. They dodged luggage piles and swung around to a janitor’s hut.

A baggage handler got the door. Pete slipped him twenty dollars.

A linen tablecloth was draped over a workbench. On it: gin, vermouth, a glass and six sheets of paper.

Pete said, “Read through that.”

Kemper skimmed the top page. His hackles jumped immediately.

Howard Hughes lent Dick Nixon’s kid brother $200,000. Check photostats, bookkeeping notes and bank slips proved it. Somebody compiled an itemized list: Nixon-proffered legislation linked to Hughes government contracts.

Kemper mixed a drink. His hands shook. He spilled Beefeater’s all over the workbench.

He looked at Pete. “You haven’t asked for money.”

“If I wanted money, I would have called Jimmy.”

“I’ll tell Jack he’s got a friend in Miami.”

“Tell him to let us invade Cuba, and I’ll call it even.”

The martini was gorgeously dry. The janitor’s hut glowed like the Carlyle.

“Keep an eye on Wilfredo Delsol. It’s anticlimactic now, but I think he might be screwing up.”

Pete said, “Call Bobby. I want to hear you put the little fuck in hock to me.”

DOCUMENT INSERT: 10/23/60. Cleveland Plain Dealer headline:

HUGHES-NIXON LOAN REVELATIONS ROCK CAMPAIGN

DOCUMENT INSERT: 10/24/60. Chicago Tribune subhead:

KENNEDY BLASTS NIXON-HUGHES “COLLUSION”

DOCUMENT INSERT: 10/28/60. Los Angeles Herald-Express headline and subhead:

NIXON DENIES INFLUENCE-PEDDLING ACCUSATIONS

HUGHES LOAN BROUHAHA CUTS VEEP’S LEAD IN POLLS

DOCUMENT INSERT: 10/26/60. New York Journal-American subhead:

NIXON CALLS LOAN FLAP “TEMPEST IN TEAPOT”

DOCUMENT INSERT: 10/28/60. San Francisco Chronicle headline:

NIXON BROTHER CALLS HUGHES LOAN “NON-POLITICAL”

DOCUMENT INSERT: 10/29/60. Kansas City Star subhead:

KENNEDY BLASTS NIXON FOR HUGHES LOAN

DOCUMENT INSERT: 11/3/60. Boston Globe headline:

GALLUP POLL PREZ’L RACE DEAD HEAT!