July 14, 1968

“What’s the matter, darling?” Courtnay asked Marty as they sat at the dining room table. Marty’s face was darkly serious.

“Nothing much, just thinking.”

“Thinking something terrible, from the looks of you. Come on, Marty, tell me what it is.”

Marty placed his napkin next to his plate. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest. “I think J.T. is starting to let his hunger for publicity go a bit too far.”

Starting to go too far? From what I read in the papers, there are people who think J.T. and your office went too far a long time ago. What happened now?”

“The Tauber indictment.”

“You think there’s something wrong with the indictment?”

“You remember how many times J.T. has spoken about having one of our men pose as a criminal and then try to bribe his way out of court? Well, I think he’s finally gone and done it.”

“The Tauber case is based on a faked case?”

“I found out today that J.T. has had Levine doing his dirty work, and I blew my stack. I demanded to see the file.”

“And what’s in the file?”

“On the surface, the indictment seems well founded. Not against the judge so much, but against the son.”

“That’s a different situation then, isn’t it?” said Courtnay. “If the son really did commit perjury, there’s no excuse for that, regardless of J.T.’s actions.”

“But there’s something more to this, something I haven’t quite figured out yet. I have to hear the tapes our undercover man made when he was talking to Randolph Tauber.”

“Why don’t you ask J.T. for them?”

“When I do, he’s going to tell me that he hasn’t heard the tapes himself. He’s going to lay the whole thing off on Levine. I know him.”

“Finally. It’s been a long time, Marty.”

“What really burns me is that he did all this without my knowing about it. I’m the chief of staff, and here he is conniving with other assistants behind my back, making me look the fool to the rest of the staff. When the public lambasts the office, the newspapers accuse us of raking people’s rights over the coals, then I’ll be a public fool, despite the fact that in some instances, like this one, I don’t even know what’s going on.”

Courtnay walked over to Marty and put her arm around his shoulder. “Marty, I love you.”

“What’s all this about?” he asked blankly.

“You’re finally seeing the light. J.T. is treacherous and self-concerned—and that’s giving him all the best of it.”

“I don’t want to say you’re right, but J.T. has changed lately. He’s hungrier and hungrier for publicity and recognition. When we go through a dry period, when no really sensational stories are being pumped out by our press agent—that’s what Balzano is, a press agent—J.T. gets frantic. And the time between J.T.’s need for publicity fixes is getting shorter and shorter. He’s like a junkie now.”

“Maybe it’s time to start considering whether following J.T. around any longer is worthwhile. Maybe it’s time to go out and do something on your own.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the purpose of the office, darling. Making the justice system more responsive is a really important task. And with these crazy bastards that J.T. has attracted, and that he seems attracted to, I’m the only voice of sanity in bedlam. I have to stay right now.”

“But you have to consider your own career, not just cleaning up J.T.’s mess.”

“I’m not just cleaning up after him.”

“Oh, yes you are. You’ve been saving him for years. And from what you tell me, that’s getting harder to do. J.T. is getting more dangerous.”

Marty frowned. “Dangerous?”

“Perhaps desperate is a better word. I’ve always warned you that J.T. wouldn’t think twice about hurting even you if it suited his purpose. From what you tell me, his need for publicity is squeezing him to do desperate things. You can see it in this Tauber situation.”

Marty thought silently for a few moments. “I’m going to call J.T.,” he said, rising. “This thing is going to come to a head right now.” He went to the phone in the den and dialed J.T.’s number.

“Hello?”

“J.T., this is Marty. I’ve looked over the Tauber file, and there’s something wrong.”

“I haven’t had a chance to go over it yet, Marty. I’m a little tied up right now. We can go over it in the morning.”

“It’s not quite as easy as that, J.T. I don’t want to be brushed off.”

“You sound a little overwrought, Marty. I’m not brushing you off. It’s just a case. We can discuss it tomorrow.”

“It’s not just the case, J.T. It’s the fact that you went and pulled off this entrapment scheme, even though we’d discussed it many times and you knew I disapproved of it.”

“Marty, there are some decisions I have to make on my own.”

“That’s not the point, J.T. It goes deeper than that.”

“What is the point, then?”

“You’ve made a damn fool of me. You can make all the decisions in the office if you want. But as long as I’m chief of staff, I should know what’s going on. It’s humiliating to have people on my staff working on cases I don’t even know about.”

“That’s not true at all, Marty.”

“It sure as hell is,” Marty said loudly.

“Marty, we can’t discuss this over the phone.”

“Fine. I’ll come over.”

“No, not now. I’ve got some people here. This is important business. It has to do with getting out of the special prosecutor’s office.”

“Getting out?”

“Right. There are people here who think I might have a political future. And frankly”—J.T. started to whisper—“they’re willing to put up money to get me going.”

“Don’t change the subject, J.T.” Marty’s annoyance was not lessened in the least by J.T.’s plans of future glory.

“Well, if, as you tell me, the office is getting out of hand and I’m looking for a way to get the two of us out of it, then what’s still bugging you?”

“I don’t know if there’s going to be the two of us anymore.”

“What does that mean? Listen, if that little toad Levine has done something wrong, then fire his ass. You’re still top man. I told him to get permission from Judge Moriarty, so everything would be absolutely approved in advance. For Christ’s sake, Marty, you think I’m a crazy man, that I’d let something go on that wasn’t legal? That I’d let something like this come between you and me?”

“I don’t know anymore, J.T. Did Levine get Moriarty’s approval?”

“I love your attitude, Marty. After all these years, you tell me you don’t know if I’d do something that would come between us.”

“It’s not all these years, J.T. It’s right now. You’re getting publicity-mad. These people who write to you and tell you you’re cleaning up the city and that you’re a savior—they’re the lunatic fringe. And you believe them.”

“Can’t we discuss this tomorrow morning, Marty? I’m telling you, I had nothing but the best intentions.”

“All right, we can talk in the morning—early!”

“First thing. When Stern picks me up, we’ll drive right over to your place.”

“Eight fifteen.”

“Eight fifteen it is.”

Marty hung up the phone, still upset, feeling that he had just been conned again.

“What was that all about?” George DeValen asked as J.T. walked back into the living room. DeValen was sitting on the couch, a drink in hand.

“Nothing much,” J.T. said pensively. “Just a little office problem. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

“Good. Shall we go out to dinner, or do you want to order something in?”

“I don’t care.” J.T. was disturbed that Marty was so angry. He’d have a lot of talking to do in the morning to calm Marty down out of this tree.

“Good, let’s order in, dear boy. There’s so much that we have to get settled.”