Afterthoughts

He hesitated but blundered forward. "And if the Admiral will allow me to say so, I've been wondering more and more about that Commander Taylor and his wife. I did a call-up on them and they both come from way left families. His father was a socialist and hers helped Negroes in Florida. Still does, for all of that."

The Admiral's jaw muscles popped out like biceps as he ground his molars. Crown and Burton just shook their heads. See that the Admiral was on the verge of going for a Congressional Medal of Honor for self-control, Burton unsheathed his justly famous intellectual stiletto.

"Where'd you get your law degree, Mr. Coffin? I heard somewhere you did very well."

The FBI man was like those sheep who don't even need a hood over their heads.

"Pennsylvania, Sir. I was on the editorial board my last year."

"Did you get any old-fashioned History or Politics, Mr. Coffin?"

"I'm not sure what you mean about old-fashioned, Sir; but I had two history courses in pre-Law, and we had a course in the legal system which was mostly about the Supreme Court...and, oh, yes, another in bureaucratic politics. You know, about the branches and how they fight with each other."

Breckinridge relaxed. This was going to be good enough to learn from; which for the Admiral was quite an admission.

"So I suppose you read the opinions of Chief Justice Marshall and of the other giants?"

"Well, yes, Sir, whenever they come up in one of our case studies."

"How about the fight over the Constitution?"

"Well, Sir, some in the history survey course."

"Or, The Federalist Papers, or Jefferson, or the Lincoln-Douglas debates?"

"No, Sir." Coffin finally realized that he was in trouble.

"Well, you're honest, Mr. Coffin, but that doesn't help us very much with our little problems right here and now...."

Crown interrupted Burton in a way that made it clear they had been playing off each other for years.

"Now Mr. Burton likes to take his time getting to the point, but we all want to get out there on the course." He nodded toward Breckinridge. "I think you and I are going to have some trouble against the Admiral and Atwell." He turned to Burton. "Finish it up, Burt. I'm going to the practice tee. My irons are soft."

There were times when Charles Burton wanted to plant a sand wedge in the crease between the thigh and the bottom of Ralph George Crown. During the last six weeks those moments had seemed to come more often than in the past.

-- Must be getting old. No, that's not it: I am very uneasy about this Mexican deal. So let's get this done.

"The point is, Mr. Coffin, that we want you to concentrate on outsiders. We know the locals. And the outsiders will not be what you call communists. Your boss is a little nutty about communists and Negroes, Mr. Coffin. He lets his prejudices confuse his mind. You can put that in your next report, Mr. Coffin, if you need some of those stick-on gold stars in your file." He was being cruel, and the hell of it was that he liked it.

"The Reverend Robin Griffin Jones is not a communist, Mr. Coffin. The very unusually good lawyer Marshall Oliver Harland is not a communist, Mr. Coffin." He looked toward Breckinridge. "And if I may center on your spread, Admiral, Commander Wilbur Mitchell Taylor and his wife Caroline are not communists. He has the Navy Cross, Mr. Coffin, and she is one tough cracker lady from Florida. And if more people had the sense of her father we'd have lots less trouble with the Negroes."

That was too much for Coffin. This man was putting a knife into his sense of self and purpose.

Table of Contents

• Introduction

1. Maggie and Mr. Hank
2. The Reverend
3. Squalls Along the Flight Line
4. Flying Home to Church
5. A Visit with The Judge
6. Communion
7. Afterthoughts
8. Monday Morning With The Admiral
9. Into the Dining Room
10. On Toward Walking the Streets
11. Glimpses of An Election
12. The Dream and The Reality of Violence
13. The Admiral Loses More Than a Few Good Men
14. Down That Lonesome Road

• Cast of Characters
• Credits and Acknowledgements