the combined weight of too many preposterous conspiracy theories, charges of widespread mail and credit card fraud, and increasingly frequent visits from the IRS.
He landed on his feet, running, when, through powerful connections he'd made while working for Larouche, he was taken on board by successive conservative administrations that found him, at least for a time, useful as a bulwark against right-wing critics. Then Kevin Shannon was elected president- an event in which Garth and I played no small part, albeit by default, and through no choice of our own-and Culhane was out.
Out, maybe, but by no means down. Quite the contrary.
Within a short time after Shannon's inauguration, Culhane was signed for a syndicated column, and began popping up all over the place on various television news and talk shows as a 'spokesman for the right.' He certainly caught on in this post-Vietnam world among a segment of the population living in an America that no longer quite fit their notion of what America had once been, and should be. Culhane's was an 'us against them' view of the planet- and by 'us' he by no means meant all Americans, but only those who shared his views; those who perceived things differently were 'dupes of the Russians' at best, and at worst traitors.
It was a song-and-dance revue that played very nicely in Peoria, and a good many other places as well. While I might consider Elysius Culhane a monumental pain in the ass, a national embarrassment, and a transparent demagogue dispensing apocalyptic visions that bore no relationship whatever with reality, a very large mass of people considered him little less than a potential savior of America.
According to the PBS documentary, stating an opinion reflected in a number of articles I'd read since then, the
I wondered what Jay Acton was doing in Cairn, at this art exhibition.
'Dr. Robert Frederickson, I presume?'
Ah, again. Jay Acton was in Cairn, at this art exhibition, because his boss was here.
I turned around to face Elysius Culhane, who was standing directly behind me. I was used to seeing him in close-up on a television screen, perspiration filming his high forehead and upper lip as he leaned forward to launch into one of his harangues about 'cleaning up the soul of America.' On television he always loomed large, and I was surprised to find that he was no more than five feet six or seven, stocky. He was wearing an expensive gray silk suit with a cream-colored shirt, patterned silk tie, and black alligator shoes. His graying black hair was combed straight back. He had piercing black eyes, a nose that looked as if it had been broken at least once and not properly set. There was a comma of scar tissue at the corner of his right eye. His deep tan nicely highlighted the unnatural white of his capped teeth. I thought he looked like a Hollywood version of a mobster, but then I was prejudiced.
'Elysius Culhane,' I replied. When I shook the hand he extended I noted a slight tremor.
'I'm flattered that you recognize me,' he said with a disingenuous smile that indicated he certainly wasn't surprised I'd recognized him.
'Do I detect a note of false modesty? You're the celebrity here, Mr. Culhane, not me.'
'From what I've heard about you, I wouldn't think that you'd be one of my viewers.'
'I don't know what you've heard about me,' I said with a little bit of my own disingenuous smile, 'but the fact of the matter is that you're pretty hard to avoid these days if you watch any news shows at all.'
He smiled thinly and nodded, obviously pleased with my observation. 'Well, you and your brother aren't exactly just faces in the crowd, are you? It seems to me that I've been reading and hearing about the exploits of Mongo the Magnificent, ex-circus headliner turned criminology professor and private investigator, for years. You're quite a colorful character, and I'm pleased to meet you.'
'Likewise,' I said, trying as best I could to mask my lack of enthusiasm.
'You're in partnership now with your brother, aren't you?'
'You're very well informed, Mr. Culhane.'
'It's my business to be informed, Dr. Frederickson, especially as it concerns the waxing and waning of political fortunes in Washington.'
'You must have the wrong dwarf, Mr. Culhane. Frederickson and Frederickson has nothing to do with politics or power in Washington.'
Culhane narrowed his eyelids and pursed his lips. 'Now I think it's you who's displaying false modesty. It's well known in the circles I travel in that you and your brother are personal friends of the president, as well as of that aging, cagey old fellow who's director of the Defense Intelligence Agency.'
Elysius Culhane's tendency to slur words together was becoming gradually more pronounced, and he seemed slightly nervous. It occurred to me that he was digging for something.
'You'd better get some new sources, Culhane. Kevin Shannon would probably be highly amused to hear me described as a friend of his. He knows how I feel about politics and politicians.'
'Oh? How do you feel about politics and politicians?'
'Anybody who expresses a desire to run for any office should automatically be disqualified.'
'An interesting notion.'
'Not original. Power doesn't necessarily corrupt, but power always holds a fascination for people who are easily corrupted.'
Culhane's highly polished manner was growing a coat of tarnish; his smile had wrinkled into something approaching a sneer, and something that looked very much like contempt was glowing like banked coals in his black eyes. 'Come now, Frederickson. Would you deny that Frederickson and Frederick-son has grown enormously wealthy and powerful because of business that has been steered your way by this administration?'
'If it has, I don't know about it. I assume that Mr. Shannon and his associates have better things to do than steer business our way. Sometimes they even make decisions I agree with.'
'Surely you're aware that yours is the investigative agency of choice for those corporations and individuals who want to stay in the good graces of this administration.'
'I'd like to think that Frederickson and Frederickson is the investigative agency of choice for corporations and individuals who want topflight investigatory work done.'
His sneer was becoming even more pronounced. 'I've offended you.'
Ordinarily I would have considered it time for a tart exit line, but I continued to experience the feeling that Culhane was after more from me than casual conversation. I couldn't imagine what, but my curiosity was sufficiently strong to keep me toe-to-toe with him for a while longer. I glanced over my shoulder, found that Jay Acton was gone. 'Not at all,' I said, returning my gaze to the other man. 'You were suffering from a misconception, which I hope I've corrected. I've observed that not many people ever get a chance to get a word in edgewise with you, much less enjoy the opportunity to try to straighten you out on some of your quaint notions.'
He didn't much like that, and he flushed slightly. 'I've even heard it said that you and your brother, with certain knowledge in your possession, could perhaps have prevented the election of this accursed administration; I have to assume that the same information could bring down this administration. It wouldn't be hard for a neutral observer like myself to conclude that more than natural market forces have been at work in your firm's huge and relatively recent success. There may be powerful people who don't want to see you or your brother. . disgruntled.'
I was going to have to try to ignore the gross insult, because the first part of his statement happened to be true, and Elysius Culhane was the last person in the world I wanted to know. The knowledge he'd referred to could not only topple an administration but send a lot of people, including Garth and me, to prison. The realization that Elysius Culhane, with his complex web of confidants, contacts, and rumor-mongers, was sniffing the shreds of flesh left on these particular political skeletons chilled me.
I smiled, said, 'You've got to be kidding me.'
'Is it true?' he asked in a flat tone. A bead of perspiration had appeared on his upper lip, just as if he were on television, and he quickly wiped it away.
I smiled even harder, baring my teeth. 'If it was, would I tell you?'
'There might come a time when your sense of patriotism and duty to your country will-'
'What are you doing in Cairn, Culhane?'
The interruption seemed to throw him off balance. He stared at me for a few moments, obviously debating
