“So it was better as an accident,” Ben said, interrupting the flow.
“That’s right,” Minot said, hesitating, not sure what Ben knew. “But this, this is a whole new game. If it’s true, we could make some real noise. Most of the time it’s hard to get people excited. They think it’s just about union business, organizing the coloreds. Politics. But a trial, that’s something else. A Red kills somebody working for the Bureau- everybody’s going to jump on that.”
“If it’s true?”
“Well, I mean you have to prove it. Otherwise, it’s still just ‘a man fell.’ Dennis here says it’s not going to be easy. Police never took it up, so we’re not long on evidence. We can get some help from the Bureau, on the quiet, but even they can’t make a miracle. Far as I can see, the best chance we have is you.”
“Me.”
“You’re in his house, you know everybody he knows. And it has to be somebody he knows. You don’t name strangers.”
“I’ve already looked through his things. If he was keeping notes, something like that, he wasn’t keeping them there. But sometimes one name leads to another, so it would be useful to see the files.”
“What files would those be?” Minot said, wary.
“What he gave you.”
“Look, let me explain how this works. Your brother never gave us any paper. He liked to play things close to the vest. He didn’t want anything traced back to him. Limits you, once that’s out. People don’t confide in you. No, he’d just give Dennis a name, a little information if he had it, and then it was up to us. Like I said, they were the right names- once we knew where to look.”
“You said there were reports,” Ben said to Riordan.
“With the Bureau, you talk and somebody types it up. That’s how it worked with us. He’d talk to me and I’d memo the file. You don’t have to see them-just ask me.”
“Who did he talk about? Can you give me a list?”
“How this started? The Bureau wanted to know what Ostermann was up to.”
“You thought he was a Communist?”
“We didn’t know what he was. All we knew was when he spoke- wrote an article or something-people listened. There’s a war on, it’s important to know what somebody like that is going to say. And your brother-well, who was in a better position to know?”
“So he agreed to report on him,” Ben said, hoping to be contradicted.
“Tell you the truth, it kind of surprised me, too. I mean, what if the wife found out? How would she feel? But I think maybe he thought he could do him some good. He liked Ostermann. He said we never had to worry about him. And you know, we didn’t. No funny business there at all. Wants to be a citizen now.”
“Maybe you should write him a character reference,” Ben said, more sourly than he’d intended.
“Don’t get touchy. You got an important German figure and we’re at war with Germany, of course the Bureau has to be interested. Nobody ever interfered with him. He went right on making those speeches, all that. I doubt he ever knew.”
“So that’s how it started,” Ben said, leading him. “Who else?”
“We asked about Brecht. No surprises there-we already knew. But that was a kind of test, see if your brother was pulling his punches.”
“And he wasn’t.”
“The important thing, see, was whether somebody was actually in the Party or just had lefty sympathies. Like Feuchtwanger. Your brother’d been inside, so he knew the difference. People approached him, tried to recruit him back in.”
“How? At lunch?” Ben said, opening his hand to Chasen’s.
Minot peered at him. “We don’t recruit. People come to us. Like you.”
“Not to inform on my family.”
“Informing,” Riordan said, waving this off. “Nobody’s informing.”
“He didn’t see it that way,” Minot said calmly. “It was-part of the war effort.”
“And now?”
“It’s a different war.”
“I just want to be clear. Not Ostermann. Not-family. I won’t do that.”
“Nobody gives a rat’s ass what Ostermann says now,” Riordan said, a little exasperated.
“As long as it’s pro-American.”
“But he is pro-American,” Minot said patiently. “And Feuchtwanger writes-what do you call them? Like Anthony Adverse. Kaltenbach can’t get work at the studios so he’s flirting with the East Germans, but he’s not going anywhere.”
“He’s not.”
“I think he’d find it hard to leave the country. We’re not going to give him a passport so he can be some propaganda stunt. The point is, nobody’s asking about the Germans. That’s how it started, with your brother, but that’s not what he did for me. I’m not interested in that.”
“What are you interested in?”
Minot leaned back against the booth, playing with his fork.
“I’m interested in getting people’s attention. This country is under attack and it doesn’t even know it. How do you get them to see it? And here we are, sitting in a district with the most popular thing on earth. You want something to make people sit up and notice, nothing even comes close to the industry. They’ve already got people’s attention. If we show what’s happening here-”
“In the industry? You mean in the unions?”
Minot smiled. “Well, the unions. Nobody would be very surprised at that, would they? Howard Stein, he’s practically got a Party number on his back.” He looked up. “Your brother was helpful about that. Information we can use when the time comes.”
“I thought everybody already knew,” Ben said, his stomach turning over. “At least they assume-”
“And he can deny it. But not under oath. Then you’re looking at perjury.”
“He’s going on trial?”
Minot made another half smile. “No. The industry is.”
Ben looked at the broad, handsome face, remembering his hand on Jack Warner’s shoulder, Bunny eager to please, everyone taking up positions in the chess game of the consent decree. Minot leaned forward.
“I assume all this is in confidence?”
Ben nodded, fascinated, a different game board.
“Hollywood has done a lot for this city,” Minot said. “Nobody knows better than I do. I even know the figures, which is more than you can say for most of them. And the figures are big. Since the war-” He trailed off, letting the obvious finish itself. “So now it’s like a rich widow-everyone wants something out of her. The unions want their piece. The East Coast bankers. Let’s not even think about the payoffs, let’s just pretend they don’t happen. But the Commies want something else, they want to use her to get ideas across.” He caught Ben’s skeptical expression. “They don’t have to be blatant. Nobody’s making Battleship Potemkin here. Good thing,” he said, flashing a smile. “Who the hell would go see it? Nothing that obvious. You don’t attack America. You just chip away at it. Some doubt here. Suspicion. But how do you stop them? First you have to find them.” He nodded, somehow including Ben with Danny. “Then you get them to lie. Actually show them lying. Not even their fans are going to trust them after that. You know, you can’t put someone away just for being a Commie. Conspiracy to overthrow? You spend years making a case like that. But perjury’s quick, and it’s right there. They’re lying or they’re not.” He paused. “As long as you have evidence. So you get some. You ask about files, Tenney’s got files. And Jack can be a little hasty, so god knows what he’s got in them. But we have to be more careful. We’re not just some committee in Sacramento. We’re a congressional committee. Subpoena power. You lie at the hearing, you just bought a ticket inside.”
“And if they do come across,” Riordan said, “you still have a shot at contempt.”
Ben raised his eyebrow, waiting.
“Nobody’s a Red alone,” Riordan said. “But they’re usually reluctant to say who their friends are. Even under oath.”
“So either way,” Ben said.
“Assuming we’ve got the goods on them in the first place.”
“And that’s what Danny was doing for you? Giving you movie stars for show trials?”