She was shocked, as he had intended. "Tell me why," she said.
"Because of his civil rights bill. The morning after his television broadcast--the morning after you called to tell me that Medgar had been murdered--the House majority leader telephoned the president. He said it was going to be impossible to pass the farm bill, mass-transit funding, foreign aid, and the space budget. Kennedy's program of legislation has been completely derailed. Just as we feared, those Southern Democrats are taking their revenge. And the president's rating in the opinion polls dropped ten points overnight."
"It's done him good internationally, though," she pointed out. "You may just have to tough it out at home."
"Believe me, we are," George said. "Lyndon Johnson has come into his own."
"Johnson? Are you kidding me?"
"No, I'm not." George was friendly with one of the vice president's aides, Skip Dickerson. "Did you know that the city of Houston shut off dockside electricity to protest the navy's new policy on shore leave integration?"
"Yes, the bastards."
"Lyndon solved that problem."
"How?"
"NASA is planning to build a tracking station worth millions of dollars in Houston. Lyndon just threatened to cancel it. The city turned the power back on seconds later. Never underestimate Lyndon Johnson."
"We could do with more of that attitude in the administration."
"True." But the Kennedy brothers were fastidious. They did not want to dirty their hands. They preferred to win the argument by sweet reason. Consequently, they did not make much use of Johnson, in fact they looked down on him for his arm-twisting skills.
George filled the cocktail shaker with ice, then poured in some vodka and shook it up. Verena opened the refrigerator and took out two cocktail glasses. George poured a teaspoonful of vermouth into each frosted glass, swirled it around to coat the sides, then added the cold vodka. Verena dropped an olive into each glass.
George liked the feeling of doing something together. "We make a good team, don't we?" he said.
Verena raised her glass and drank. "You make a good martini," she said.
George smiled ruefully. He had been hoping for a different answer, one that affirmed their relationship. He sipped and said: "Yeah, I do."
Verena got out lettuce and tomatoes and two sirloin steaks. George began to wash the lettuce. As he did so he turned the conversation to the real purpose of his visit. "I know that we've talked about this before, but it doesn't help the White House that Dr. King has Communist associates."
"Who says he does?"
"The FBI."
Verena snorted contemptuously. "That famously reliable source of information on the civil rights movement. Knock it off, George. You know that J. Edgar Hoover believes that anyone who disagrees with him is a Communist, including Bobby Kennedy. Where's the evidence?"
"Apparently the FBI has evidence."
"Apparently? So you haven't seen any. Has Bobby?"
George felt embarrassed. "Hoover says the source is sensitive."
"Hoover has refused to show the evidence to the attorney general? Who does Hoover think he's working for?" She sipped her drink thoughtfully. "Has the president seen the evidence?"
George said nothing.
Verena's incredulity mounted. "Hoover can't say no to the president."
"I believe the president decided not to push the matter to a confrontation."
"How naive are you people? George, listen to me. There is no evidence."
George decided to concede the point. "You're probably right. I don't believe that Jack O'Dell and Stanley Levison are Communists, though probably they used to be; but don't you see that the truth doesn't matter? There are grounds for suspicion, and that's enough to discredit the civil rights movement. And, now that the president has proposed a civil rights bill, he gets discredited too." George wrapped the washed lettuce in a towel and windmilled his arm to dry the leaves. Irritation made him do it more energetically than necessary. "Jack Kennedy has put his political life on the line for civil rights, and we can't let him be brought down by charges of Communist association." He tipped the lettuce into a bowl. "Just get rid of those two guys, and solve the problem!"
Verena spoke patiently. "O'Dell is an employee of Martin Luther King's organization, just as I am, but Levison isn't even on the payroll. He's just a friend and adviser to Martin. Do you really want to give J. Edgar Hoover the power to choose Martin's friends?"