Free Mr. Adam by Pat Frank Page A

“It’s certainly fine of you to come down here and help us out. Fine! Fine! Percy here will get you all squared away. How about it, Percy?”
    I didn’t give Klutz a chance to speak. I said, “I’m afraid there’s been some misunderstanding. I came here to get Adam on his feet. That’s all. Nothing else. As far as I know, that’s all the White House wants me to do.”
    Every time I said White House, Klutz jumped. I decided to say it more often. “Naturally,” said Pumphrey. “I am in full accord with that. Didn’t you explain, Percy?”
    â€œI told him about the directive,” Klutz said, “and the little committee we’d set up, and how he could sit on the committee.”
    I said, “No committees. I hate committees.”
    Pumphrey spread out his hands in a placating gesture. “NowSteve,” he said, “wouldn’t it be better if there was a committee, even if you did all the work and made all the actual, ah—contacts? The protection of Adam is a very delicate matter, very delicate. Very delicate, and ticklish. If anything happened, if there was, ah—any scandal, wouldn’t it be better if the War Department shared the responsibility?”
    I said, “No.”
    Pumphrey drooped. “I suppose ultimately,” he decided, “the responsibility is that of the President. After all, he picked you for this particular phase of our work. I’ll ask him to clarify the directive. Or maybe I’d better not. I’m not sure that it’s not clear now. Anyway, I’ll call in Phelps-Smythe, and we’ll tell him about it. Phelps-Smythe is the Army’s liaison officer over here. He’s been representing the Army on the committee, you know.”
    â€œI know,” I said.
    Phelps-Smythe hadn’t changed since Tarrytown, neither he nor his ribbons. He knew what was up, of course, and by the way he talked I could tell he had discussed it with his general and decided upon a course of action. After Pumphrey explained that the committee was ended, he said, with the formality of a diplomat delivering a démarche to a hostile state:
    â€œThe War Department strongly disapproves of relaxing security measures for the protection of Homer Adam. The War Department wishes to point out that if anything happened to Adam the future of the nation would be endangered.”
    â€œWhat you mean,” I interrupted, “is that there wouldn’t be any future for the nation—or the world. Maybe that’s why the President wants me, and not you, to handle Adam.”
    I shouldn’t have said it, I guess, but I couldn’t resist. Phelps-Smythe glared at me. I hoped he would have a stroke, but he didn’t. Behind his desk Pumphrey began to nibble nervously at the edge of his lips.
    â€œThe War Department,” Phelps-Smythe continued, “wishes awritten release of all responsibility for the safety and protection of Adam. The War Department wishes this release immediately, because we intend to withdraw our guards and security patrols from the Shoreham at 6 o’clock this evening.”
    â€œSo that’s where you’ve got Adam caged up?” I said.
    Pumphrey didn’t pay any attention. “Is the War Department going to make anything public on this?” he asked Phelps-Smythe.
    â€œNaturally.”
    â€œBut it’s liable to start a lot of controversy.”
    â€œThat is not the fault of the War Department!”
    Pumphrey sagged like a toy balloon from which enough air has escaped so that it is no longer round and shining. “Very well,” he sighed. “I’ll send the release round to your office, Colonel, as soon as I get a chance to dictate and sign it.”
    â€œThank you,” said Phelps-Smythe, and left. I could have sworn he clicked his heels.
    Immediately Klutz turned to Pumphrey. “I’d better find Nate,” he said. “This looks like