America 1929: John F. Kennedy, the Great Writer

Chapter 139 Utter nonsense!

The morning after Arthur's visit to Taft.

A car drove into the backyard of the U.S. Department of Justice building.

A Supreme Court executive officer in a suit stepped out of the car and took the private elevator directly to the Attorney General's office floor.

Five minutes later, a letter from the “Private Office of the Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court” was placed on the desk of then-Attorney General William D. Mitchell.

At that moment, Secretary Mitchell was reviewing a dossier on Chicago gangs violating Prohibition.

He looked up somewhat displeased, then saw the logo on the envelope, his expression changed instantly, and he immediately put down the pen in his hand.

In Washington's political ecosystem, the Supreme Court, while lacking its own police and military, holds the ultimate power of interpretation of the law.

William Howard Taft was an absolute top figure in the city.

He is not only the current Chief Justice, but also a former President of the United States, and the spiritual leader of the entire conservative and Republican Senate.

Mitchell carefully used a paper cutter to pry open the envelope and took out the parchment inside with a gold-edged heading.

After just a quick glance, the Minister's brows furrowed tightly.

He slammed down the intercom on his desk, his voice barely concealing his extreme anger: "Get Hoover from the FBI to my office immediately. Now!"

Within minutes, the office door was pushed open.

Edgar Hoover strode in with a confident stride.

"Your Excellency, you wanted to see me?"

Without uttering a single unnecessary word, Mitchell forcefully shoved the parchment memo in front of Hoover.

"Explain what's going on, Edgar!"

"A memorandum delivered directly to His Excellency Taft via bailiffs. In the past decade, the Supreme Court has sent direct letters to the Department of Justice in this manner a handful of times!"

Hoover paused for a moment, a sense of foreboding rising in his heart.

He picked up the memo and quickly scanned the few extremely sharp passages on the parchment.

The memorandum was worded without any pretense, and was full of direct rebukes from the highest judicial authority against the abuse of power by executive agents.

[To Attorney General Mitchell and all his offices:]

Recent indications suggest that certain federal investigative agencies are attempting to bypass due process of law to impose an unauthorized economic blockade and potential violation of personal boundaries on Arthur Kennedy, editor-in-chief of the New York Herald, who has not committed any federal felonies.

When Hoover saw the name "Arthur Kennedy," his face instantly darkened.

He never expected that a young reporter from New York would be able to bring out a nuclear weapon of Taft's caliber for protection.

He gritted his teeth and continued reading.

[I hereby solemnly remind the Department of Justice that the cornerstone of the United States of America’s system lies in due process of law, not in secret police politics.]

Federal investigators should have their guns and authority pointed at thugs and interstate robbers, not at any typewriter that has never fired a bullet.

If such overreach of administrative authority is not completely stopped within the next 48 hours, I will formally request a constitutional review of the boundaries of power of the relevant federal investigative agencies at this week's Supreme Court plenary session.

The signature at the bottom is Taft's.

Hoover looked at the memo and felt an unprecedented sense of humiliation and anger.

His breathing became heavy, and his chest heaved violently.

"Sir, that's complete nonsense!"

Hoover, unable to contain his anger, slammed the memo down on the table. He tried to salvage the situation by appealing to the righteous cause of opposing the left.

"Arthur Kennedy is an extremely dangerous agitator! His Excellency Taft has no idea what we are protecting. He is giving a passport to a potential revolutionary!"

"Watch your words, Edgar!"

Attorney General Mitchell abruptly stood up, placed his hands on the table, and stared intently at Hoover with an extremely imposing gaze.

"That old man you're supposedly protecting—he wields political influence in both the House and Senate. With just a word, he could turn your entire investigation bureau upside down!"

On the very real power scales of Washington, the current Hoover is far from the powerful, deep-seated dictator he later became.

He is now merely a bureau chief eager to expand the department's power, while Taft is the true god who can directly determine the legitimacy, life, and death of the department.

"So, you really did use some underhanded tactics against that journalist named Arthur Kennedy?"

Hoover gritted his teeth; he could no longer hide it from his superior.

"I simply had an acquaintance at the Treasury Department make an internal call to the executives at Chase Bank and Citibank in New York."

They were asked to initiate an internal compliance review and temporarily suspend large cash withdrawals and transfers from his accounts.

Hearing this, Mitchell felt like he was about to go crazy with anger.

During this sensitive period of recession, they are threatening commercial banks to cut off a citizen's financial lifeline.

If this were exposed by those press liberals and political enemies, it would be a huge scandal that would embarrass the Department of Justice.

"Lift the lockdown immediately!"

Mitchell issued an indisputable, definitive order.

"By sunset today, withdraw all informal pressure on the bank. I don't care what excuses you use to back out; I want that dirty hand completely removed from his checkbook!"

Mitchell paused, his gaze hardening. "And also, withdraw all agents attempting to track or intercept him. Listen carefully, Edgar. His Excellency Taft has drawn a red line: until you have concrete evidence that Arthur Kennedy is indeed involved in federal felonies, your agents are not to touch him!"

Hoover looked very unhappy.

The intelligence machine he controlled was forced to abruptly stop just as it was being started.

Humiliation, resentment, and rage intertwined in his heart.

"This would make us appear extremely weak in dealing with radical ideologies."

Hoover made a final struggle.

Mitchell ignored him and said coldly, "This is the rule of law, not weakness. Go and carry out the orders, Mr. Chief."

Hoover remained silent for a full ten seconds.

Finally, he lowered his head, concealing the sinister glint in his eyes, as venomous as a snake.

"Yes, Your Excellency Minister."

He turned and walked out of the office.

Back in his director's office, Hoover locked the door and cursed incessantly, "Damn old fogies—damn reporters!"

He tugged at his tie and dialed a number.

"It's me. Immediately lift the freeze order on Arthur Kennedy's bank accounts and allow the agents to withdraw."

The agent sounded surprised on the other end of the phone, but Hoover immediately gave a second order.

"Find out his next westward route. Send his case to the state police headquarters in those big Midwestern states, to the desks of those ranchers!"

"I'll see if Taft's memorandum can save this writer's life when a buckshot is pressed against his head!"