Memories of Another Day (42 page)

"Deal," Lansky said. He pressed a button on the side of the couch. A moment later, the tall man who had met Daniel at the airport came into the room, carrying a black attache case. He placed it on the coffee table between them and left the room. L^isky gestured. "Open it."

Daniel pressed the buttons and the case flew open. The inside was neatly packed with rows of bills, still encased in their original bank wrappers. He glanced at Lansky.

"A quarter of a million dollars," Lansky said casually. "You can count it."

"I'll take your word for it," Daniel said, closing the case. He rose to his feet. "You had it all ready, Mr. Lansky."

Lansky smiled. "I have to. Never can tell when an opportunity might come along."

seeing too much of him. You ought to be going out with more boys of your own age."

"Boys of my own age don't interest me, Daddy. They're so immature. And all they want from you is one thing."

''And he doesn't?"

"He's been a perfect gentleman."

He shook his head. "Did he say anythmg about a job for me?"

"Only that he's working on it and expects something real soon."

"Sure," he said sarcastically.

Margaret looked down at her father. "Don't you believe him? Why should he lie?"

"Because he wants to get into your young hot pants, that's why," Michael said bitterly.

"Daddy!" she said sharply.

"Don't Daddy me," he said. "You know as well as I do that's what he wants." He looked up at her shrewdly. "And maybe that's what you want too."

"I won't Usten to you talking like that," she said. She started from the room.

'' Margaret!" he called after her.

She turned at the doorway. "Yes?"

"I didn't mean it the way it sounds," he said apologetically. "It's just that I'm worried about you. I told you about his reputation. His drinking, and all those women. I don't want you to become just another one of his women, that's all. I don't want to see you hurt, girl."

"I'm not a child anymore, Daddy," she said in a stiff voice. "I can look after myself."

He stared at her for a moment, then picked up the paper again. "Okay," he said. "Just remember that I warned you."

The door closed behind her, and he stared into the corruption of futility. If only he could get around as he used to, it wouldn't be like this. But there was nothing he could do. The whole of the burden was on her

shoulders—the house, the other children. Maybe she was right. She wasn't a child anymore. She didn't have the time.

John L. Lewis sat in the chair behind the massive desk in the heavy oak-paneled office, the windows behind him looking over the white marble buildings of government in downtown Washington. Dressed as usual in a heavy dark suit, stiff white collar and tie, he reflected a stolid, single-purposed sense of power. On either side of his desk were his two chief aides—Tom Kennedy, now approaching seventy, with white hair and gentle manner, and Tony Boyle, young, aggressive and pushing. Daniel looked at the two men. Kennedy, thinking and planning, meticulous in his approach; Boyle, flamboyant, using power and strength to bulldoze his way through opposition. And at the center was John L., who was equal to the two of them; he was all the things they were and more, with an aura of natural leadership that brooked no refusal.

Lewis was talking. ''The T.V.A. is the largest coal customer in the world. Because of their inexhaustible demand, we are faced with the countless number of independent mines' opening without union contracts and selling coal below the prices fixed by the union mines. Not only does this cause union mines to sell less coal, but it affects workers who are laid off who are union members and creates jobs for many who are not.

''We have exhausted every reasonable means of request for the government's assistance in this problem, and our pleas have fallen upon deaf ears. The situation is steadily growing more desperate and, if it continues, threatens the entire backbone of the union structure built so laboriously by us over the years. If we allow this situation to continue, I can foresee the time when our members will question themselves as to the benefit

of remaining with us. If that time should come, it will be the end of the United Mine Workers as we know it."

Kennedy nodded solemnly without speaking. Boyle was more positive. ''We have no choice. We have to hit them with everything we've got."

Daniel looked at him. "The violence did you no good in District 19 in '46 and '47, nor did it do any good in District 23 from '48 to '52. All we succeeded in doing was forcing the closing of the mines that signed with the union because the price of coal climbed out of the economics of doing business. Even U.M.W, financial participation in some of the mines did not prevent their bankruptcy, causing the union to lose not only membership but a great deal of money as well as prestige. And we still don't know what Habili-ties the courts will assess the union as damages in the lawsuits against us due to the activities of those years. If all the potential liabilities are assessed, the union will be bankrupted and shut down as effectively as if every member resigned in one day."

Boyle was belligerent. ''You have a better idea? What are we supposed to do? Lay down while those scabs and operators put the shaft to us?"

"I haven't an idea right now," Daniel said. "But I know what you can't do. This is an election year. We can't afford to do anything that would force Eisenhower into taking a position against us, which he will do if he has to in order to maintain his support from the conservatives."

"What you're saying, then, is wait?" Boyle asked.

"That's right," Daniel said flatly.

"Then what the hell do we need you for?" Boyle asked irately. "You were asked down here to come up with some answers for us."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Daniel said. "I never said I had any answers. And you are right. You asked for the meeting. I didn't." He got to his feet. "Mr. Lewis, it's always an honor to see you."

John L. scowled up at him. "Sit down, Daniel. I didn't say that the meeting was over." He waited until Daniel had returned to his seat. "The one thing that came out of our meeting with the President was the impression I got that he has an extremely high regard for you."

Daniel was silent.

"I think it would go a long way to establish our credibility with the government if we could find a way to work together. I think an announcement that U.M.W. had signed with C.A.L.L. to engage in a number of feasibility studies covering new organizing, pension-planning, health and welfare programs would go a long way to convince the President that we're not engaged in reckless behavior."

Daniel looked directly at the old man. "What you mean is that we create a smoke screen behind which you can continue on your own path."

Lewis cleared his throat. "That's putting it rather vulgarly."

"But it's the truth."

Lewis looked at his associates, then nodded. "Yes. "

"Mr. Lewis, you know my reputation," Daniel said. "Fm not noted for remaining silent when I feel strongly about what is good for the union member."

"We'll take that chance," Lewis said. "Don't forget that I too have fought all my Ufe for the betterment of the workingman. We may have differences of method and opinion, but none of motivation. And in the final run, the decision must still remain the right of the union which employs your services."

"Mr. Lewis, I thank you for the opportunity, and it's an honor for me to be of service to you and the U.M.W." Daniel held out his hand. "When do you want us tp start?"

Lewis took his hand, smiling. "Yesterday. You work out the details with Tony and Tom."

Boyle followed him out to his car. ''You're going to be working with me—you know that."

''I know that."

''It was my idea. John L. went for it, hook, line and sinker. He's getting old. All he wants to do now is keep his hands clean."

"Fll help him do that," Daniel said. "But I can't keep them away from the financial deals. He's got the union into too many things. The National Bank in Washington, West Kentucky Coal and the Nashville Coal companies, all bought with union money out of the pension and welfare fiinds. Sooner or later, the government is going to get into that, and when it comes, it could spell disaster. It isn't only the union-sponsored organizing campaigns that he has to think about."

"Are you going to tell him?" Boyle asked.

"In due time," Daniel said.

"He won't like it."

"I can't help that," Daniel said. "He asked me to help him. I'll try to do that. He also told me that he will still do exactly what he wants. I got the message."

"And what we talked about. That hasn't changed?"

Daniel looked at him. "No change. I'll be working with you to see that you become the president. But I'll give you some free advice right now. You're not John L., and you never will be. That means you won't be able to get away with ninety percent of what he does. When he dies, the shit's going to hit the fan. You better see to it that you stand there with clean hands."

"You leave that to me," Boyle said confidently. "I know what I have to do. You can't run this union by being Mr. Nice Guy."

"I'm not arguing," Daniel said. "Just some friendly advice."

"The first thing I'd like you to do is send a team down to Middlesboro and get us a report on all the new mines and tipples that are springing up all over

the area. We'll need estimates on their production and labor force. I have a feeling if we don't get on it real soon, they'll undercut the sales of the union-operated mines to the T.V*A. to practically nothing."

"I'll get on it," Daniel said. He got into his car. ''It will take money."

"You tell me how much," Boyle said. "And you get it the next morning."

''I think I've got a job for your father if he's interested. We're getting busy here, and we could use a night man to keep an eye on the place and cover the telephones."

She smiled. "I think he'll be real pleased."

*'The hours are long. Seven at night until seven in the morning."

''He won't mind."

"You bring him next week and have him see Mr. Barrington. He'll arrange everything."

'Thanks, Mr. Huggins."

He poured another drink. "Isn't it about time you called me Daniel?"

She was suddenly shy. "If you want me to."

"I want you to, Margaret."

She was almost whispering. "Okay, Daniel."

"That's better," he said. "I have a few calls to make. Are you in a hurry for dinner?"

"I have time."

He picked up the telephone and dialed a number. Moses answered the call. "Barrington." Behind his voice came the shouts of children.

"Am I interrupting dinner?"

"Not yet," Moses answered. "That's why you hear the kids hollering."

"I won't keep you," Daniel said. "I just thought you would like to hear some good news for a change."

Excitement came into Moses' voice. "Boyle came through?"

"Better than that. John L. wants us to do some work for them."

Moses was incredulous. "You're kidding. Don't fool with me, Daniel. My heart can't take it."

Daniel laughed. "It's legitimate. He wants us to undertake impartial studies of all areas. We're beginning with a survey of the Middlesboro and Kentucky districts. You'll have to put together a field team and get down there right away."

"I'll need more men," Moses said.

'*Then get them. And take Junior down there with you as your number two. I want him to get his feet wet."

*'But what about Harvard?"

''He'll have to pass that. It's more important that he get some real experience. He can pick up on college later. Once you feel he has the idea, then leave him there and you come back to the office."

''Okay, Big Dan." His voice lowered. "You got a call from Miami. He wants you to call him right back."

"Fll take care of it."

Moses' voice went back up. "Congratulations. It's like pulling a rabbit out of a hat. I don't know how you did it."

Daniel was pleased. "It's only the beginning. See you first thing in the morning."

He put down the telephone and looked across the desk. "Just one more call and we can go."

"I'm in no hurry,"

He gave the long-distance operator the number. He put a hand over the mouthpiece while the call was going through. "Is that a new dress, Margaret?"

She shook her head.

"It's very pretty," he said. "But then, so are you."

She blushed. "Thank you."

A voice came on the wire. Just the number. "Seven six three three."

''Daniel Huggins calling.''

"One moment, sir." There was a click on the Hne. Lansky came on. He came right to the point. "I need a favor."

"Just ask it," Daniel said.

"There's an election coming up in the New Jersey Teamsters. I want you to see that the right man wins it."

"I'll do my best." Daniel said. "What's his name?"

"Tony Pro."

Daniel was silent for a moment. Tony Pro; Anthony Provenzano. One of the Family. "You don't pick easy

ones," he said. "You know Dave Beck is against him."

'That's your problem," Lansky said flatly. "Just tell Hoffa that if Tony Pro becomes president of that local, he'll never have to worry about the Teamsters on the Eastern Seaboard."

"I'll get on it right away," Daniel said.

"Keep me posted." Lansky went off the line.

Slowly Daniel put down the telephone. He began to dial Moses' number again, then changed his mind. That would keep until the morning. It was either feast or famine. From nothing to do to too much. Suddenly he was tired.

"Anything wrong, Daniel?" she asked.

He looked at her. "Just tired, I guess. It's been a long day."

"You don't have to take me out to dinner. If you'd rather just go home and rest, I won't mind."

"I have an idea," he said. "Why don't we go to my house? I'll have Mamie fix us a nice dinner, and afterward we can sit around and watch television."

She felt the heat rise in her face again, but her eyes were ready. "If that's what you want."

He smiled suddenly, the smile seeming to drop the years from him. He picked up the telephone and dialed home. "Mamie, big steaks and all the trimmings. I'm bringing a pretty girl home to dinner."