(1976) The R Document Read Free Page A

time for work now. Don’t forget, you have a dinner date tonight, seven fifteen, the White House.’
    He grimaced. ‘That may be work, too.’ She still hesitated, and then a reticent smile surfaced on her plain, elongated face. ‘I just want to say, Mr Collins, congratulations on your first week’s anniversary as Attorney General. We’re all happy you’re here. Good night.’ ‘Good night, Marion. I appreciate that.’ After she had gone, and he was quite alone, he considered the large manila envelope that Marion had given him. There was rarely good news from the FBI these days, so it was with reluctance that he unsealed the package. He withdrew what appeared to be a half dozen pages
    of typed statistics. Attached to them was a covering letter, a handwritten note really. From the crabbed hand already familiar to him, from the erratic punctuation (mostly dashes), the impatient abbreviations, he knew that the note had been written by Director Vernon T. Tynan even before the signature confirmed it. His curiosity aroused, Collins began reading the note.
    Dear Chris -
    Heres the latest figures on last months nat’l crime statistics - the worst yet by far -the worst in our history - I’m sending a copy to the Pres and one to you so that you get it before we see the Pres tonight. Note the jump in murders, riots, armed robbery, interstate kidnapping. See my addendum on leads to probable conspiracies and organized revolutionaries - we’re really in a stew and we’ll be cooked, and the only thing that can pull us out is final passage of the 35th Amend - pray for it tonight. I already had these latest statistics phoned in to legislators in Albany, NY, and Columbus, O, so they know the true situation before they vote tonight. Hate to give you this terrible report, but feel its vital you are up to date before seeing the Pres. This is in rough form - will check it out thoroughly before making it public tomorrow - see you at the TV dinner in a few hours.
    Best,

Vernon
    Folding back Tynan’s note, Collins glanced through the Uniform Crime Reports, slowly turning the pages. In the past month, compared with the previous month, violent crimes, including murder, had gone up 18 per cent, forcible rape had gone up 15 per cent, robbery and aggravated assault up 30 per cent, riots up 20 per cent.
    He laid down Tynan’s pages. He went over some other statistics in his own mind. Because of this growing lawlessness, prisons were filled to bursting. Five years earlier, there had been two million persons, at one time or another, in the 250 major prisons and reformatories in a given year. Despite
    a stepped-up effort to put the lid on lawbreakers, despite the 45,000 lawyers and FBI agents working for the Department of Justice, despite three special divisions of Army troops assigned to domestic control by the Pentagon, despite the 22 billion dollars that wouid be spent on law enforcement this year (it had been only 31/2 billion in 1960), the crime rate continued to spiral upward. The cancer could no longer be kept in remission by force, it seemed. In another year it might be terminal, heralding the death of organized society.
    He sat back in his chair, hands and fingertips together on his chest, as if in prayer. It was the darkest period in American history since the Civil War, of this he was certain. Anarchy and terror dominated every new day. When you woke in the morning, you did not know whether you would see the night. When you went to sleep at night, you did not know whether you would wake in the morning. Every day when he kissed Karen good-bye before going to work, he felt the frightening uncertainty that he might not find her (and the child she was carrying) alive when he came home.
    He felt the invisible fist of fear grip his stomach. It was not the first time. Momentarily, his thoughts shrank from the chaos in the streets beyond his window to personal pity for himself. Certainly, he - he and Tynan - had the worst, most hopeless, jobs