Page 391 of Edge of Eternity (The Century 3)

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When Cam Dewar walked into Maria Summers's office at the Department of Justice, she suffered a moment of fear. Had she been found out? Had the White House somehow discovered that she was Jasper Murray's source of inside information? She was standing at her file cabinet, and for a moment her legs felt so weak she feared she might fall.

But Cam was friendly, and she calmed down. He smiled, took a seat, and gave her the adolescent up-and-down look that indicated he found her attractive.

Keep on dreaming, white boy, she thought.

What was he up to now? She sat at her desk, took off her glasses, and gave him a warm smile. "Hi, Mr. Dewar," she said. "How did that wiretap work out?"

"In the end it didn't give us much information," Cam said. "We think Murray may have a secure phone somewhere else that he uses for confidential calls."

Thank God, she thought. "That's too bad," she said.

"We appreciate your help, all the same."

"You're very kind. Is there something else I can do for you?"

"Yes. The president wants the attorney general to order the FBI to stop investigating the Watergate burglary."

Maria tried to conceal her shock as her mind reeled with the implications. So it was a White House caper. She was amazed. No president other than Nixon would have been so arrogant and stupid.

Once again, she would find out the most if she pretended to be supportive. "Okay," she said, "let's think about this. Kleindienst isn't Mitchell, you know." John Mitchell had resigned as attorney general in order to run CREEP. His replacement, Richard Kleindienst, was another Nixon crony, but not as biddable. "Kleindienst will want a reason," Maria said.

"We can give him one. The FBI investigation may lead to confidential matters of foreign policy. In particular, it may reveal damaging information about CIA involvement in President Kennedy's Bay of Pigs invasion."

That was typical of Tricky Dick, Maria thought with disgust. Everyone would pretend they were protecting American interests when in reality they were saving the president's sorry ass. "So it's a matter of national security."

"Yes."

"Good. That will justify the attorney general in ordering the FBI to back off." But Maria did not want it to be so easy for the White House. "However, Kleindienst may want concrete assurance."

"We can provide that. The CIA is prepared to make a formal request. Walters will do it." General Vernon Walters was deputy director of the CIA.

"If the request is formal, I think we can go ahead and do exactly what the president wants."

"Thank you, Maria." The boy stood up. "You've been very helpful, again."

"You're welcome, Mr. Dewar."

Cam left the room.

Maria stared thoughtfully at the chair he had vacated. The president must have authorized this burglary, or at least turned a blind eye to it. That was the only possible reason for Cam Dewar to be working so hard on a cover-up. If someone in the administration had okayed the burglary in defiance of Nixon's wishes, that person would by now have been named and shamed and fired. Nixon was not squeamish about getting rid of embarrassing colleagues. The only person he cared to protect was himself.

Was she going to let him get away with it?

Like hell she was.

She picked up the phone and said: "Call Fawcett Renshaw, please."

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Dave Williams was nervous. It was almost five years since Plum Nellie had played to a live audience. Now they were about to face sixty thousand fans at Candlestick Park in San Francisco.

Performing in a studio was not the same at all. The tape recorder was forgiving: if you played a bum note or your voice cracked or you forgot the lyrics, you could just erase the error and try again.

Anything that went wrong here tonight would be heard by everyone in the stadium and never corrected.

Dave told himself not to be silly. He had done this a hundred times. He recalled playing with the Guardsmen in pubs in the East End of London, when he had known only a handful of chords. Looking back, he marveled at his youthful audacity. He remembered the night Geoffrey had passed out, dead drunk, at the Dive in Hamburg, and Walli had come onstage and played lead guitar throughout the set with no rehearsal. Happy-go-lucky days.

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