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“Actually you’re right. He was an exchange student from Münster. This camp was one of our Civilian Conservation Corps, what we call CCC. It is a huge success and very popular.”

“So tell me more about this remarkable man, Mr. Tugwell,” Louise said with prim formality, but happy that Tugwell had been stealing glances at her chest.

“Well, I guess the best part of the man is he is so generous. He wants to share the wealth. Like me, he sees private wealth as a sin—why should all Americans not share in the wealth of this great country? This is why he increased income taxes. Why should any person ever need more than $100,000 per year? It makes no sense. It’s just pure greed. With the American frontiers now closed, the wealth should be spread around more. And people like Ford are all just crooks—they never do what the government tells them to do and they do all kinds of crazy things. You know, Ford and his gang go off on a tangent.”

“But can’t he do that?”

Tugwell had finally gotten a head of steam,

“Not now. Today we have to think about everyone, not just a greedy few. A man who wants to make a lot of money is not a decent man. It’s immoral. Take Ford. One of the worst things Ford does is to decrease prices on his cars. And that can only lead to national economic ruin. You see Louise, when prices go down farmers are hurt and then everyone is hurt, and wages go down and then it is a terrible downward spiral. Ford broke the law, the law of the United States, the law of this great country.”

Now Louise was genuinely confused,

“But in the ’20s didn’t Ford double his workers’ wages and reduce the price of his cars from $3,000 to $500? As a woman, of course I am not good at mathematics, but isn’t that a six-fold improvement? And doesn’t cheaper food help the poor? So they can buy more food and better quality food?”

Ignoring Louise’s point about poor people not going hungry, Tugwell steamed ahead,

“Oh, yeah, with Ford that was last decade, you know in the Roaring Twenties. But that’s ancient history now. And that was under the Republican Coolidge—‘Mister Do Nothing.’ You can’t even compare that time to this time. And Coolidge’s financial guy, an old miser named Mellon, actually decreased tax rates so rich people kept more money.”

“Oh, I see now. And by now increasing taxes the government gets more money for your camps, right?”

Tugwell changed the topic. This was what Louise expected as Morgenthau had admitted to her that canny Mellon’s tax cuts in the 1920s actually increased total tax revenues. In contrast, the tax increases of the Roosevelt regime had—unexpectedly—decreased the total revenues. Morgenthau ruefully had admitted to Louise that when taxes increased, rich people simply worked less and invested less, and by investing less, companies got less money to grow, so Roosevelt’s administration was forced to create more and more make-work alphabet soups, and more and more camps. But none of this Louise mentioned to the zealot.

“You see, Louise, we’re no longer afraid of bigness, and unrestricted competition is the death, not the life, of trade. This is a new world and we’re just doing what Mussolini in Italy is doing, but we’re doing it in an American way. You know, comprehensively and completely and frankly better than Mussolini, who I’ve met by the way. You see, some people are stubborn and some people just don’t want to change. But with his glorious fireside chats, the President has been able to convince people. When I was here in Washington we would listen on the radio to the President and my God, what a voice. Calm, deep, reassuring—why, he can talk the birds out of the trees. It’s like he can make a dream come true. Any dream.”

He paused and looked at her,

“He can create a new reality for the new world we’re building. Yeah, sure there will be some unhappy people, especially the greedy people, like business men. But the President understands all the people’s needs, not just the rich people, not just the investors. And yeah, we’ll keep increasing taxes. You know that is why the President repealed Prohibition—so we could raise more money taxing booze—it all counts. And we can get a new NIRA without those damn Brooklyn Jews complaining. Everything is possible now; there are no human limits when the government can control things. We just have to keep experimenting. We cannot let people decide for themselves in this ever-more complex world. It’s madness to think so.”

Louise found Morgenthau to be genuinely very attractive, in part due to Morgenthau’s not trying to bed her; in part due to Morgenthau’s innate sense of propriety; in part due to Morgenthau’s intelligence; and in part due to Morgenthau’s honesty. In contrast to Morgenthau, Louise found Tugwell to be identical to some of her father’s friends back in Germany—too many of her father’s friends were just as narrow-minded and as bigoted as Rex Tugwell.

Louise stood and shook Tugwell’s hand,

“Absolutely fascinating. My God, you’re the cleverest man I have met in this city. You’re amazing. I don’t know how to thank you.”

Completing these classic Schneider phantasy lines, and before Rex could suggest one, she left the table and walked to the front door. The doorman waved and the first Checker on the rank pulled up.

“What a total asshole,” Louise thought.

10: Mr. Horikoshi’s Confession

Washington
Thursday, 24 July 1941

THE PRESIDENT WAS LEANING BACK in his wheelchair smoking a Cuban cigar. He was always very careful to only be photographed with a cigarette in his famous cigarette holder—always the common man, at least in public.

Harry Hopkins said,

“In light of our discussions on the HS document a few weeks back, I have since reached out to a friend at Sullivan & Cromwell. You know John Dulles, Mr. President?”

“He’s a fucking Republican,” said a startled Roosevelt with a frown.

“Yes, that he is, and he is well-travelled, intelligent, and experienced in international affairs, which I suppose makes him unique among that ilk.”

Roosevelt laughed.

“OK. So what does this fellow Dulles say?”

“Well, he’s a lawyer, and a very successful one at that, so he does tend to speak in circles with every sentence a conditional, but over dinner last night he said that Japan, not Germany, is this country’s greatest adversary, not only now but in the future. And he does have an excellent grasp of history.”

“According to Dulles, by 1970 Japan will be the first supernation in history—150% of U.S. GNP; we have to do something now, or they will be unstoppable and the white race will be doomed.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Harry, get a grip of yourself—the Japs ahead of us?—impossible. I am not sure if you know this but the average Jap has no balance—they are carried around on the backs of their mothers and this completely destroys their balance—they can barely drive an automobile let alone fly a fighter ‘plane. Probably couldn’t drive my fucking prison-on-wheels,” said Roosevelt referring to the wheelchair he hated so much.

“Perhaps, but we need to stop them now,” Hopkins retorted

“Dulles says we don’t have a lot of time—they work like Trojans, but with the brains of a white man. Their weakness is their lack of oil; we need to nip these Nips in the bud, now.”

The President of the United States smiled at Hopkins’s pun.

Hopkins leant forward, opened his small black briefcase and extracted a nondescript and well-worn manila folder. From inside the folder he removed three copies of a report. He passed one first to the President and the second to Tugwell.

“This is a report I was given last night by John. It is from his brother, Allen, who, as you know, is currently in Switzerland. This report is a translation by the Swiss security office of a report from a German flyer who toured the Mitsubishi Heavy Industry plant in Yokohama in May ’39; Allen is apparently on very good terms with the Swiss security people,” Hopkins said with a smile.