Blind Ambition: The End of the Story (40 page)

“Ellsberg’s on trial right now. The government has information in its possession that could affect the outcome of that trial, and your not reporting it could be construed as an obstruction.”

The prosecutors arrived, and Charlie quickly began a pacing lecture to them on their breach of our agreement. He was much tougher than he’d been before. He told them they had panicked; he called their honor into question. Silbert and Campbell just listened, but Glanzer began to argue.

“Look, Charlie,” he interrupted, “we had an obligation to inform Petersen. And he had to brief the Attorney General. Who do you think we all work for? I didn’t like doing it. But, dammit, you understand why we had to do it as well as I do. You would have done the same thing.”

“Bullshit I would. When I make an agreement, I stick by it.”

“We informed you beforehand, and we never promised that we would
never
report on our meetings with Dean,” Glanzer continued, annoyed with Charlie’s manner.

“Well, we had a damn good reason for not wanting to have that information reported to Petersen,” Charlie retorted. “Now you’ve not only made it more difficult for us but you’ve hurt your own chances of making a case.”

“Charlie, I’m tired of hearing about this great obstruction case your client is supposed to have for us,” Glanzer argued. “His story is jumbled and disjointed.
5
*
We can’t do anything with what he’s told us. Why haven’t you brought us a straight, chronological statement of his evidence? Why haven’t you given us something we can really sink our teeth into? Like lists of when he found things out, and corroborating witnesses, and supporting documents? If we had had stuff like that, maybe we could have reconsidered.”

“You guys,” Charlie said, walking in front of them, “remind me of a bunch of horses going to the starting gate. You want to run before the bell is sounded. We plan to take this thing one step at a time. And I’m not even sure if my client wants to cooperate with you anymore.” Shaffer was beginning to escalate his negotiating leverage. He moved about his office, raising and lowering his voice, pointing fingers and pounding tables, letting them know that they should not expect any picnic in dealing with him. Earl Silbert watched him carefully and then started smiling and shaking his head. Charlie turned to him and asked, “What are you smiling about, Brother Silbert?”

Earl kept grinning. “Charlie, you’re something else. I’ve heard about you for years, and I can see that everything I’ve heard is true.”

“Thank you,” said Charlie with a slight bow. He seemed pleased by the compliment, and then he was spurred on to even greater performance. “I need everything I’ve got to get through to you guys. Sometimes I don’t think you listen to me. Now, I’m about to send you another little signal about what my man knows. But before he tells you, I want to say it is probably going to be labeled some kind of national-security thing. I’m not sure what that means, but I do know it’s sure as hell related to this case. It’s almost as important to this cover-up I’ve been throwing at you the last week as the Watergate break-in itself. I don’t want to get into too many specifics, but I’m instructing my client to tell you about it right now. Someday you guys are going to learn how little you know, and how much my client knows, about this cover-up at the White House. Go ahead, John.”

I prepared myself while Charlie sat down. “The Department of Justice has in its Watergate files,” I began, “information pointing to the fact that there was a break-in at the offices of Daniel Ellsberg’s psychiatrist. His name is Dr. Fielding. Charlie doesn’t want me to get into details now, but it shouldn’t be hard to find.” I paused and turned to Silbert, who was a friend of Bud Krogh’s. “And, Earl, when you learn who’s involved in this, you’re going to be as upset as I am in telling you. He is a mutual friend of ours, and I’m sure he’ll tell you the truth about it.”

“Come on, Charlie,” said Glanzer impatiently. “Quit playing games with us. What’s this all about? And what the hell’s it doing in our files?”

“My man’s got a lot to say to you fellows today, but not anything more on that little gem,” Charlie replied. “I want you guys to learn that when we tell you something, it’s right. When we send you signals, they mean something.”

“We’re working on a case, Charlie,” said Silbert. “I don’t see the relevance or significance of this.”

“You don’t see the significance?” Charlie asked sarcastically, shaking his head in exaggerated bewilderment. “Do I have to teach you guys the law too? Have you read
Berger versus U.S.
recently? It deals with a prosecutor’s duty of fair play in conducting a fair trial. If you fellows want to obstruct justice, that’s your business. We’ve met our obligation by informing you. But I suggest you go back, look around in your files for what my man has told you, read a few law books, and then come back and tell me you don’t understand the significance.” Charlie paused and shook his head to dismiss the subject.
6
*

“Enough on that. Now, John, let’s give them another dose of cover-up. Let’s go heavy on the money this time. We’ve already got everybody introduced. Why don’t you start with the meeting when Kalmbach dropped out and LaRue came in?”

I rambled on through the cover-up for several hours. Mo called a few times to tell me the White House operator was looking for me. As I had asked her, Mo had not said where I was. Charlie made me keep going until the late afternoon, when the prosecutors had to leave.

I called the White House when I arrived home, hoping I’d heard from Rose Woods. Ehrlichman came on the line instead. “Hi, John. Could you come over and see me for a little bit?” he asked in a solicitous tone. “I’m going back to the office. I hate to disrupt your evening, but I sure would like to chat.”

“I guess so, John,” I replied coldly, thinking the bastard would probably try to set me up. I called Charlie, who advised me not to see him. I tried to reach Woods again. Still out of town. I thought for a long while and then scribbled a note on a pad. I called Higby.

“Larry, I want you to take down a message,” I said authoritatively.

“I know this is unusual, but it’s important. Are you ready? Okay. This is for Haldeman, Ehrlichman, and the President.” I stared at the pad.

“‘I do not think it appropriate for me to meet with Ehrlichman at this time. I would like very much to meet with the President, if it isn’t inconvenient for him. I want him to know I am not being disloyal. I suggest that the President turn to Henry Petersen for advice.’ That’s the message, Larry. Got that?” Higby said yes and hung up.

Mo and her house guest tried to persuade me to join them for dinner at a local Alexandria restaurant, but I was watching my world dissolve and I thought I’d better stay home. They had been gone only long enough for me to be fixing myself a first drink when the phone rang. I froze. It was probably the President. I was tired and I didn’t really want to face him. I let it ring, thinking I could hide. Soon the ringing stopped.

I carried my drink to our bedroom, plopped down in the easy chair, lit a cigarette, and was about to take a sip when the phone began to ring again. Simultaneously, the red White House signal-line telephone also began ringing. Long rings. I let them go on and on, but the operators were not going to give up this time. I couldn’t believe they’d let the phone ring thirty times. It was as if they knew I was sitting there, staring at the phones, counting the rings. They won. I picked up the phone. The operator said the President wanted me to come to his EOB office. I said I’d be there in thirty minutes.

I dreaded this meeting with the President. I was embarrassed that he had doubtless learned that I had turned to the prosecutors before I had told him. For years, the President’s office had been the place I most wanted to be. Now it was the last place on earth I wanted to go.

At nine-fifteen on Sunday, April 15, a Secret Service agent outside the President’s Executive Office Building office told me to go right in. I found the President seated in his easy chair in the far corner of his large office, both feet up on the ottoman. He had on what appeared to be a smoking jacket. As I sat down near him, on one of the conference-table chairs, I was close enough to notice a smell of liquor on his breath. He seemed exhausted. His usually neatly creased trousers looked as if he had slept in them, and his necktie was stained. This was not the well-manicured Richard Nixon I was used to.

“Would you like something to drink? Scotch? Martini? Anything?” he asked. The President had never before offered me a drink.

“No, thank you, sir.”

“Come on, you’ll surely have something?” It
was almost an order and I didn’t feel I could refuse it. “I’ll have a Coke, thank you.” He buzzed his valet, told him I would have a Coke, he would have coffee.

When the valet left, I told the President what was bothering me. “Mr. President, I don’t know if you’ve been told, but I have talked with the prosecutors...”

“Yes, Kleindienst and Petersen were here to see me today.”

“Uh, well, I wanted to tell you I was going to the prosecutors. I hoped to tell you before you learned from somebody else. And, uh, I didn’t feel when I went to them that I was doing it out of any disloyalty to you, I assure you, Mr. President. I hope someday you’ll know I was being loyal to you when I did this. I, uh, felt it was the only way to end the cover-up. And so I thought I had to tell them what I knew, Mr. President, and now I think you’re in a position where you can step out in front of it.”

The President was nodding affirmatively. He seemed quite friendly. “I understand, John,” he said. “I want you to know I understand.” He paused. Maybe it will work, I thought. “I’d kind of like to review some of these problem areas that have come up. I’d like to go over them a little bit with you.” He looked down at the legal pad on his lap. “For example, let’s get into a little bit of this money problem. I’m trying to sort it out, you understand. Let’s take Ehrlichman. What’s Ehrlichman’s involvement in that?”

“Well, Mr. President, both Bob and John guided me in this area every inch of the way. I went to John after Mitchell asked for help on the funds, and I asked John if he thought it was all right to use Kalmbach. I went to him several times, and he approved. Both John and Bob. That’s what they did. Uh, they saw the need for it, and then I went to Kalmbach.”

The President nodded. “I understand. Now, what about Petersen? How deep is Henry in this thing?”

This question surprised me. I hesitated before answering. Maybe the President just wanted to make sure Petersen was impartial enough to be his counsel on the matter, as I had suggested. On the other hand, maybe the President was probing for evidence of Petersen’s own involvement, to use it as leverage to keep Henry from pursuing the cover-up. I was between suspicion and hope. I thought the President was, too. “Well, Mr. President, uh, as I’ve told you, Henry kept me posted on this thing. He did tell me at one point, for example, that Magruder had made it through the grand jury ‘by the skin of his teeth.’ But I don’t think Henry would be what you’d call deep into the thing. I think he’s well aware of the problem areas. And I think that you could well take your counsel from him. He knows all the ramifications, and I think he’s the best man to help protect you.”

“Well,” said the President, “you know Petersen questions Haldeman for not cutting this Liddy plan off originally. He says that when you came back from that second meeting with Mitchell and you came back and told Bob about this crazy scheme Liddy was planning—uh, what
did
Bob tell you then, John?”

“Well, he said I should have nothing to do with it, and I felt the plan had been killed then. I really did.”

“That’s right.” The President frowned. “That’s what I understand the facts are. But Petersen says, ‘Well, why didn’t Haldeman do something about it?’ He doesn’t like that.”

I could see the President’s worry for Haldeman, and was encouraged at the signs that he recognized how seriously Bob was involved. The President went back to Petersen, raising Henry’s suggestion that the President encourage Liddy to come forward with the facts. I agreed. The President then called Petersen to discuss the idea, winking at me when he told Petersen I had “stepped out for a minute.”

I was encouraged as I listened to the President’s end of the conversation. He was telling Petersen that he would urge Liddy to come forward. He was following my counsel. I couldn’t tell whether the President was protecting himself with Petersen or genuinely moving to do the right thing, but I longed to give him the benefit of the doubt.