Richard Horton, the Attorney General, had talked to Coal, and now Coal was supports the work of the Press Council of Ireland and the Office of the Press Ombudsman, and our staff operate within the Code of Practice. But it was seven, and he was sitting at his desk wearing a tie, listening to Fletcher Coal suggest what they ought to do about this and about that. He wanted to sleep late, then play golf whenever he woke up. IT WAS SATURDAY MORNING, and the Queen was in Florida taking money from the rich, and it was clear and cool outside. He was loyal to the President, and could be trusted for sound judgment. He thought about each word before he said it. He was not dumb or slow, he just thought carefully about everything before he acted. It is perfectly logical, if one is so inclined to kill Supreme Court Justices. The first two men who saw it are dead, and the person who wrote it has disappeared. He knew the President had asked Voyles to back off, and he knew Voyles was not telling the President everything. He knew they had talked to hundreds of people, collected a pile of useless evidence. He knew Voyles was in New Orleans at this moment with hundreds of agents. Have you seen the papers this morning? Coal asked.Īre they investigating the pelican brief? Horton asked. Across the street, a line of horses and carriages waited for customers and brief excursions through the park. It was almost 11 P.M., Friday, and Central Park South was busy. She carried a small canvas bag when she darted from the St. It was time to run again, and she would travel light. He spoke as though this was all memorized, and this irritated the President. I feel strongly that the Administration should investigate this matter at once. We are seriously considering a formal grand jury investigation into the deaths of Rosenberg and Jensen, he announced gravely.In light of what's happened in New Orleans, we think this should be pursued immediately.Įxactly what Horton expected out of Coal. But for a novice, it was nerve-racking anyway.ĭon't you think it's a bit premature? Coal asked. No perverts, at least none she could spot. She looked at the floor, but from behind the dark shades, she studied the people. Stare at the floor and hold the bag, she kept telling herself. It wasn't crowded, and she took a seat near the center doors. She waited in the correct spot with a group of drunk but well-dressed teenagers, and the train arrived in a couple of minutes. Maybe one day she could return and spend a month and admire the city without watching for Stump and Thin Man and who knows who else who was out there. She had never seen Penn Station, but this was not the time to sightsee. The drunk kids exited at Times Square, and she got off quickly at the next stop. How many more knew about it? Probably thousands. Horton had never mentioned the pelican brief to the President, and the fact that he even knew about the damned thing was exasperating. Horton was an honorable man, but the Justice Department was filled with lawyers who talked too much. Horton's investigations leaked worse than the White House basement, and Coal was terrified of this clown impaneling a grand jury and calling witnesses. They've got three hundred agents on the case. The FBI is investigating, the President said.
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