March 21, 1964
“What an opportunity,” J.T. crowed enthusiastically to Marty. The two were sitting in the living room of Marty’s apartment, having a drink before dinner. Courtnay was in the kitchen, getting some cheese and crackers. Muffy was already asleep in bed.
“It’s wild. Right out of the blue like that,” said Marty. “It’s something you dream about—the chance to do something about the cops, the judges, lawyers who are on the take every time some crook is let go with a slap on the wrist.”
“When you start to analyze it, as you’re doing right now, do you really know if it’s true that there’s a lot of corruption out there?” said Courtnay, placing a cutting board with two kinds of cheese on the cocktail table.
J.T.’s eyes shifted cautiously to Courtnay. “What do you think, Courtnay?” he asked.
“I think it’s a wonderful opportunity to get to the bottom of things.”
“That’s it,” agreed Marty. “A chance to get something worthwhile done. You dream about such opportunities.”
J.T. was pensive. He nodded slowly, his glance shifting from Courtnay to Marty as they spoke. “It’s out there all right,” J.T. said firmly. “I’ve been thinking ever since Murphy suggested the position. I can think of a million areas to investigate. Judges giving criminals an easy ride for a price, calling up other judges, saying, “That’s a friend of mine, go easy on him.’ It happens all the time. One guy commits a crime and gets a cakewalk. Another commits the same crime and gets the book thrown at him.”
“You could do a great deal to eliminate such disparities,” Marty reflected.
“I don’t see the job as a way to heal social wounds,” J.T. said abruptly. “I see it as a rat trap. From now on, the rats are going to shake in their boots anytime they put their hand out. They’ll know the rat catcher is on the prowl.”
Marty and Courtnay both looked at J.T., then exchanged glances.
“If you don’t mind my saying so,” Courtnay said, “I don’t agree with that approach, J.T. I don’t see this just as an opportunity to set loose a horde of vigilantes.”
“Vigilantes?” J.T. said impatiently. “What does that mean?”
“What I think Courtnay is saying, J.T., is that this is an opportunity to do some good, not just to crush the bones of evildoers.”
“It’s the same thing. If you crush the crumbs, the only people that’ll be left are the ones who will do the job wonderfully.”
“I guess it’s just a matter of emphasis,” said Marty.
“It won’t be my job to select the good officials, just to root out the evil ones. And I guarantee we’ll find so much venality that we won’t have time to work on setting the system right. But that’ll take care of itself.”
Neither Marty nor Courtnay spoke.
J.T. sat forward, stuffing a wedge of cheese in his mouth. “I have a great idea. We hire detectives, take the best bloodhounds the police have, get them on a leave of absence. We’ll have them pose as criminals and let them try to bribe their way out of the system. What an angle! First we’ll bribe the jailers, then the cops, then the lawyers, and finally the judges.” J.T. devoured another wedge of cheese.
“Want a refill?” asked Marty.
“Yeah, another ginger ale,” J.T. laughed.
“Good people fighting for good causes can’t resort to evil, J.T. That’s a conflict in terms,” said Courtnay.
“Nonsense, Courtnay,” J.T. said immediately. “You fight evil with whatever means there are, good, bad, or indifferent. That’s probably been the trouble up to this point. The establishment fights by Marquis of Queensbury rules while the rats are sticking fingers in their eyes. No, we’re not going to fight by the rules. We’re going to fight by my rules.”
“That’s not eliminating evil, then,” said Marty, handing J.T. a glass. “Substituting your evil for someone else’s isn’t eliminating evil, just displacing it.”
“I see we’re in the midst of Philosophy II here,” J.T. said, with relish for the challenge. “The only problem is that the bums never took philosophy and aren’t concerned with how many angels can fit on the head of a pin. Besides, how can something that we would do to catch evildoers, something not done with evil intent, be evil?”
“But there must be respect for the rule of law,” said Marty. “That’s the problem to be corrected, lack of respect for the law. And doesn’t that start with the people charged with enforcing the law?”
“I agree completely,” said J.T. “And if certain law-enforcement people have no respect for the law, then we’ll weed them out and destroy them. How can that be bad?”
“It’s not, as long as we don’t break the law ourselves,” said Marty.
“Breaking the law is a matter of intent. They intend to commit a crime. We won’t. Our investigators will only seem to commit crimes, in order to flush out the rats. It’s going to be glorious,” J.T. exulted. “They’re going to be jumping off every part of the ship.” J.T. sipped his ginger ale. “If things go right, when we crush one slimy rat, ten others will be so shaken by the news reports of our merciless juggernaut that they’ll give up their venality out of sheer terror. That’s important, deterring rats from committing further evil acts. I want them afraid that every phone is tapped, every room is bugged, everybody they’re doing business with is an undercover agent. They won’t dare make a wrong move when we’re operating at peak efficiency.”
“Isn’t that the Gestapo that you’re describing?”
“Very cute, Courtnay.”
Courtnay went back to the kitchen.
“Courtnay sure doesn’t like the idea of our taking on the Special Prosecutor’s office,” J.T. said softly to Marty.
“She just sees it from a different angle. The overall objective is something no one could complain about.”
“That’s the way I see it.” J.T. shrugged. “All’s fair in love and war.”
“Let’s sit at the table, dinner’s ready,” said Courtnay, coming out of the kitchen with a tray. The two men rose. “Speaking of love and war, J.T., have you been seeing Dana much?”
J.T. set his jaw sullenly. “Off and on,” he said as he sat at the table. “That’s another thing. If we take this job, we can get out of Wall Street and make a name for ourselves. And then,” he said more softly, “maybe people will stop asking me about my private life. For Christ’s sake, everybody inside and outside the firm is giving me grief about Dana. I’m tired of the whole damn situation.”
“What exactly is the situation?” Courtnay asked.
“Come on, Court,” said Marty, “it is their private business.”
“I’m not prying …”
“You may not be prying, but you are asking a lot of questions about something that doesn’t really concern either of us.”
“It really doesn’t concern me, except that my mother introduced the two of them, and since J.T. is your friend and Dana’s family and mine have known each other so long, in my mother’s eyes, I’m in the middle. Not only in my mother’s eyes, but Dana’s, her family’s. I don’t enjoy the position I’m in any more than you do, but I’m in it. You understand? Don’t you realize that I’ve been brought into every crisis situation all the way down the line? Just like Uncle Chauncey, I get flak too.”
“I didn’t realize you were in that position,” said J.T. “Dana’s a little too serious about this.”
“And you?”
“Serious? I’m serious in the sense that I surely am not in this to fool Dana or hurt her,” J.T. said with quiet sincerity. Courtnay was suspicious. “But I doubt seriously that anything’s going to lead anywhere, if that’s what the ultimate question is.”
“Look, J.T., I don’t care what you do when it comes to your private life. I’d just like to know what I’m going to be in for from Dana. For one thing, maybe I can turn the girl off the path of feeling there’s something in the situation if there isn’t.”
J.T. was pensive for many seconds, then looked at Courtnay. “I’m not interested in getting married, that’s for sure. Frankly, I’ve never given getting married a thought, not with Dana, not with anybody, not yet.”
Courtnay poked at her food with her fork.
“Why has what I’ve said disturbed you if you’re not involved in a partisan way?” J.T. asked.
“I’m not disturbed.”
“Oh, come on. I can see it in your face.”
“Well, since you’re telling me the facts as you see them, I’ll tell you the facts as I see them.”
“Okay.”
“Why didn’t you tell Dana the way you feel about her a long time ago? You would have saved all of us a lot of grief.”
“I never said anything to make her think it was any other way. I never said a word to her about the future, us, marriage, kids, a white picket fence, anything like that. Not one word.”
“Didn’t it ever occur to you that maybe she was thinking there was a future in your seeing each other? Don’t you realize all the time and effort she’s devoted to your relationship?”
“Not any more than I have! And I don’t expect anything else out of the situation.”
“Anything else is right.” Courtnay stopped speaking suddenly. “We really should drop this right here. We’re only going to end up arguing.”
“Wait a minute,” J.T. said angrily. “Dana may have first spoken to Chauncey, and he may have been instrumental in talking to the firm. But if I didn’t have what it takes, just like if Marty didn’t have what it took when I spoke up for him, the firm wouldn’t keep either of us around for one minute. So Dana said a kind word. Does that mean I’ve become her indentured servant?”
“Of course not.”
“So what’s the problem? I don’t want to get married right now. I don’t know if I want to get married ever. And I’m not going to be pushed into it by Dana, Chauncey, Archie, or anyone else.”
“I understand what you’re saying, J.T. I’m only saying that you should have told her that.”
“I never told her anything different. How am I supposed to know what she assumed?”
“Because it’s obvious.”
“Not to me.”
Courtnay nodded silently, contemplatively. “Maybe that’s the way it is,” she said.
“That is the way it is.”
“I don’t mean about Dana.”
“What do you mean, Courtnay?” Marty asked.
“I mean that’s the way it is with J.T. He doesn’t have the same drives or ambitions or feelings that other people have. And he doesn’t understand how other people might be hurt or affected by the things he does.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that someone close to you has to be very careful, because you don’t have the same feelings of loyalty, love, concern, friendship that others do. Am I making myself clear?”
“Not really.”
“J.T., you use people. Other people go along with it because they’re your friends, lovers, pals, whatever. Most people get along in the world by giving and taking. But you don’t give. You have no feelings of loyalty or warmth. And that frightens me, because our lives, Marty’s career, are all wound up in you. Everywhere you go, we go. And when Marty’s usefulness ends, you’ll dump him. Just like Dana.”
“That’s not true, and it’s not fair.”
“Fair? I didn’t know you knew the word, J.T.”
“Let’s drop it,” J.T. said coldly. “I’m really not up for psychoanalysis tonight.” He put his napkin on the table. No one was hungry anymore.
“Will you tell us the truth about your feelings for us before its gets to the end of the road?” said Courtnay.
“Oh, come on, will you?”
“I’m really serious, J.T. Will you? Will you be able to face up to that when the time comes?”
“It never will,” J.T. protested.
“But if it did, could you?”
“Of course I could.”
“Then tell Dana how you feel now. Can you do that?”
“If I wanted to.”
Both Marty and Courtnay were studying J.T.
“Will you do it?” Courtnay pressed.
“Courtnay!”
“Will you do it?”
“Why don’t you, Otto?” Marty asked.
“All right, all right.”