Read The Cold Six Thousand: Underworld USA 2 Page 15


  JEH: Good morning, Mr. Littell.

  WJL: Good morning, Sir.

  JEH: Let’s get to the tape. The sound quality was very poor.

  WJL: Yes, Sir.

  JEH: The text was unenlightening. If I wish to discuss Airedale dogs with the Dark Prince, I can dial his direct line at will.

  WJL: My plant fidgeted, Sir. He moved and caused distortion.

  JEH: Will you try again?

  WJL: That’s impossible, Sir. My plant was lucky to get one audience.

  JEH: Your plant’s voice was familiar. He sounded like a handicapped lawyer the Dark Prince employs.

  WJL: You have a fine memory for voices, Sir.

  JEH: Yes. And I have a few plants of my own.

  WJL: Myself among them.

  JEH: I wouldn’t call you a “plant,” Mr. Littell. You’re too gifted and diversified.

  WJL: Thank you, Sir.

  JEH: Do you recall our conversation of December 2nd? I said I needed a man with a “fallen liberal” image, and hinted that it might be you.

  WJL: Yes, Sir. I recall the conversation.

  JEH: I’m miffed at Martin Luther King and his egregiously un-Christian Southern Christian Leadership Conference. I want to further penetrate the group, and you’re the perfect “fallen liberal” to help me accomplish my goal.

  WJL: In what way, Sir?

  JEH: I already have a plant within the SCLC. He has established his ability to procure dossiers on policemen, organized-crime figures and other notables that left-wing Negroes might consider adversaries. My plan is to provide him with a dossier on you. The dossier will portray you as an ousted Bureau man with leftist tendencies, ones which you have frankly yet to outgrow.

  WJL: You’ve piqued my interest, Sir.

  JEH: Your assignment would be to appear sympathetic to the civil-rights cause, which I know will be no great stretch. You will donate numerous allotments of marked Mob money to the SCLC, in $10,000 increments, over a sustained period of time. My goal is to compromise the SCLC and render them more tractable. Your goal is to convince the SCLC that you have embezzled the money from organized-crime sources, in an effort to assuage your guilt over working for mobsters in the first place. This will also be no great stretch. I’m sure that you can tap the ambivalent aspects of your nature and front a convincing performance. I’m equally sure that you can justify the continued expense to your mobster colleagues, as a proactive means to avoid civil-rights trouble in Las Vegas, which will please them and Mr. Hughes.

  WJL: It’s a bold plan, Sir.

  JEH: It is that.

  WJL: I’d appreciate some more details.

  JEH: My plant is an ex-Chicago policeman. He possesses chameleon qualities similar to yours. He’s ingratiated himself with the SCLC very nicely.

  WJL: His name, Sir?

  JEH: Lyle Holly. His brother was with the Bureau.

  WJL: Dwight Holly. He transferred out, I think.

  JEH: That is correct. He’s with the Federal Bureau of Narcotics in Nevada now. I think he finds the assignment enervating. A brisk dope trade would be more to his liking.

  WJL: And Lyle is—

  JEH: Lyle is more impetuous. He drinks more than he should and comes off as a hail-fellow-well-met. The Negroes adore him. He’s convinced them that he’s the world’s most incongruously liberal ex-cop, when in fact that prize goes to you.

  WJL: You flatter me, Sir.

  JEH: I do anything but.

  WJL: Yes, Sir.

  JEH: Holly will portray you as a Chicago law-enforcement acquaintance and present the SCLC with documents pertaining to your Bureau expulsion. He will point you to a Negro named Bayard Rustin. Mr. Rustin is a close colleague of Mr. King. He is both a Communist and a homosexual, which marks him as a rara avis by all sane standards. I’ll send you a summary on him, and I’ll have Lyle Holly call you.

  WJL: I’ll wait for his call, Sir.

  JEH: Do you have other questions?

  WJL: On this topic, no. But I would like your permission to contact Wayne Tedrow Senior, on Mr. Hughes’ behalf.

  JEH: You have it.

  WJL: Thank you, Sir.

  JEH: Good day, Mr. Littell.

  WJL: Good day, Sir.

  DOCUMENT INSERT: 1/11/64. “Subversive Persons” summary report. Marked: “Chronology/Known Facts/Observations/Known Associates/Memberships in Subversive Organizations.” Subject: RUSTIN, BAYARD TAYLOR (male Negro/DOB: 3/17/12, West Chester, Pa.). Compiled: 2/8/62.

  SUBJECT RUSTIN must be viewed as a cunning subversive with a significant history of Communist-inspired alliances & as a pronounced security threat, due to his alliances with perceived “Mainstream” Negro demagogues, such as MARTIN LUTHER KING & A. PHILIP RANDOLPH. SUBJECT RUSTIN’S radical Quaker background & his parents’ association with the NAACP (National Association for the Advancement of Colored People) point out the extent of his early radical indoctrination. (See Addendum File #4189 on RUSTIN, JANIFER & RUSTIN, JULIA DAVIS.)

  SUBJECT RUSTIN attended Wilberforce College (a Negro institution) 1932–33. He refused to join the ROTC (Reserve Officers Training Corps) and led (abetted by numerous Communist sympathizers) a strike to protest the allegedly poor quality of food served to students. SUBJECT RUSTIN transferred to Cheyney State Teachers College (Pennsylvania) early in 1934. It is believed that he communicated with numerous notable Negro subversives while at the institution. SUBJECT RUSTIN was expelled in 1936. It is widely assumed that a homosexual incident resulted in his expulsion.

  SUBJECT RUSTIN moved to New York City circa 1938–39. He became a member of the so-called Negro “Intelligentsia,” studied the philosophy of MOHANDAS “MAHATMA” GANDHI & described himself as a “Committed Trotskyite.” SUBJECT RUSTIN (a gifted musician) fraternized with numerous white & Negro subversives, including PAUL ROBESON, who have since been identified as members of 114 certified Communist-front organizations. (See “Known Associates,” Addendum File #4190.)

  SUBJECT RUSTIN became a member of the Young Communist League (YCL) at New York City College (NYCC) & was a frequent visitor at a Communist cell on 146th Street. He fraternized with Communist folk singers & led a YCL-inspired campaign to protest segregation in the U.S. Armed Forces. In 1941 SUBJECT RUSTIN became acquainted with Negro labor agitator A. PHTLIP RANDOLPH (b. 1889) (see Randolph Files #1408, 1409, 1410). SUBJECT RUSTIN helped to organize the aborted 1941 Negro March on Washington & joined the socialist-pacifist Fellowship of Reconciliation (FOR) & the War Resisters League (WRL). During this time he became a skilled orator and disseminator of Socialist-Communist propaganda.

  SUBJECT RUSTIN registered as a conscientious objector with his (Harlem, N.Y.) draft board & was ordered to appear for a physical examination on 11/13/43. SUBJECT RUSTIN sent a letter of refusal (see Addendum Carbon #19) & was apprehended on 1/12/44. He was tried & convicted of violating the Selective Serv. Act (see Addendum File #4191 for trial transcript) & sent’d to 3 yrs in the Federal Penitentiary at Ashland, Ky. SUBJECT RUSTIN led several attempts to desegregate the prison dining hall & was transferred to Lewisburg Penitentiary (Pa). SUBJECT RUSTIN was paroled (6/46) & became a traveling speaker for the FOR. In 1946 & ’47 he participated in numerous Communist-inspired attempts (the “Journey of Reconciliation”) to desegregate interstate bus lines. In 11/47 SUBJECT RUSTIN joined the “Committee Against Jim Crow in Military Service & Training” & counseled Negro youths to avoid military service (see Addendum File #4192 for list of members & cross-referenced Communist front-group memberships).

  SUBJECT RUSTIN traveled extensively in India (1948-’49), returned to the U.S. & served a 22-day jail sentence for his subversive activities in the “Journey of Reconciliation.” He spent substantial time (thruout 1950, ’51, ’52) in Africa & studied insurgent & Negro nationalist movements there. On 1/21/53, SUBJECT RUSTIN was arrested on a morals charge in Pasadena, California (see Addendum File #4193 for arrest rpt. & trial transcript). SUBJECT RUSTIN & 2 white youths were engaged in a homosexual tryst in a parked car. SUBJEC
T RUSTIN pled guilty & served 60 days in the Los Angeles County Jail. SUBJECT RUSTIN’S homosexuality is well known & is considered to be an embarrassment to the alleged “Mainstream” Negro “Leaders” who utilize his skills as an organizer & orator.

  The 1/21/53 incident resulted in SUBJECT RUSTIN’S expulsion from the FOR. SUBJECT RUSTIN moved to New York City and cultivated friendships in the heavily bohemian & leftist-influenced Greenwich Village district. He rejoined the WRL & again traveled to Africa & studied Negro nationalist movements. SUBJECT RUSTIN returned to the U.S. & met STANLEY LEVISON, a Communist-indoctrinated advisor to MARTIN LUTHER KING. (See Files #5961, 5962, 5963, 5965, 5966.) LEVISON introduced SUBJECT RUSTIN to KING. SUBJECT RUSTIN advised KING per the staging of the Montgomery Bus Boycott of 1955–56. (See Central Index for individual files on boycott participants.) SUBJECT RUSTIN then became a trusted advisor to KING & is credited with influencing KING’S Pacifist/Socialist/Communist program of planned disruption & social disorder. SUBJECT RUSTIN drew up a document for the formation of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) & KING adopted it at a (1/10-11/57) church conference in Atlanta. (See Addendum File #4194 & Electronic Surveillance File #0809.) KING was elected leader of the SCLC on 2/14/57 & has remained in power to this (2/8/62) date.

  SUBJECT RUSTIN joined the American Forum (classified as a Communist front group in 1947) & planned the SCLC/NAACP “Pilgrimage of Prayer” March on Washington (5/17/57). 30,000 people attended, including numerous Negro celebrities (see Surveillance Films #0704, 0705, 0706, 0708). SUBJECT RUSTIN organized the “Youth March for Integrated Schools” in 10/58. Per this march: associate A. PHILIP RANDOLPH publicly attacked DIRECTOR HOOVER for his comment that the march was a “Communist-inspired promotion.” SUBJECT RUSTIN staged a 2nd youth march in 4/59. (See Surveillance Films #0709, 0710, 0711.)

  SUBJECT RUSTIN rejected (early 1960) an offer to work full time for the SCLC. He has remained to this date (2/8/62) a vociferous critic of democratic institutions & has continued to support MARTIN LUTHER KING and his socialist designs, serving as an advisor & organizer of SCLC activities. SUBJECT RUSTIN is considered the leader of the SCLC braintrust & the mastermind behind KING’S rise to prominence as a demagogue and fomenter of social unrest. He has strategized & deployed white & Negro demonstrators in the “Sit-In” & “Freedom Ride” demonstrations of 1960–’61 & has retained documented friendships with a total of 94 members of certified Communist fronts (see Known Associate Index #2). In conclusion, SUBJECT RUSTIN must be classified as a Top Priority Internal Security Risk & should be subjected to periodic surveillance & possible mail & trash cover operations. (Note: Addendum files, films & tapes require Level 2 Clearance & Deputy Director Tolson’s authorization.)

  26

  (Las Vegas,1/12/64)

  Tails:

  Sitting tails. Moving tails. Three boring tailees. Tail work—five full days in.

  Webb Spurgeon lived behind the Tropicana. Webb Spurgeon’s pad brushed the golf course. Webb Spurgeon lived bland. Webb Spurgeon stayed home. Webb Spurgeon chauffeured his son.

  Wayne watched his front door. Wayne fought the sitting-tail blues.

  He yawned. He scratched his ass. He pissed in a milk can. The car smelled. His aim strayed. He sprayed the dash sometimes.

  Spurgeon was a yawn. Duane Hinton was a snore. Eldon Peavy was a faggy snooze. The job was shit. Buddy Fritsch wanted dirt. Pete suborned him in. Fritsch met with Butch Montrose—it vibed payoff.

  The job was shit. He worked it anyway. He mixed-and-matched. He juggled his tailees.

  Hinton stayed home. Hinton drove to his work sites. Peavy logged time at Monarch Cab. The job was shit. Wayne worked it hard. Wayne cranked twenty hours a day.

  Lynette bugged him. Lynette torqued him hard. Lynette found his Dallas paper stash. He lied. He said don’t bug me. He said it’s Moore and Durfee—I’m just tracking the case.

  She tripped him up. She nailed his lies. She made him run. He worked his shit tail job. He gauged potential results.

  Hide would-be dirt. Fuck Fritsch and Pete—file a fake report. Play ball. File the goods. Hide out at the Sultan’s Lounge. Hide from your wife. Hide from Wayne Senior and his fuck film.

  Wayne yawned. Wayne stretched. Wayne scratched his balls. Webb Spurgeon walked out. Webb Spurgeon locked his front door. Webb Spurgeon shagged his Olds 88.

  Log it: 2:21 p.m.

  Spurgeon drove south. Wayne tailed him. Spurgeon hit I-95. Wayne hit the fast lane. They both drove 50-plus.

  Spurgeon signaled. His blinker blinked. He pulled off the freeway. He hit Henderson ramp #1. He drove surface streets. Wayne tailed him semi-tight.

  They hit the Mormon Temple. Wayne logged the time: 2:59 p.m.

  Spurgeon walked in. Wayne parked catty-corner. Time sitting-tail dragged.

  Thirteen minutes. Fourteen/fifteen.

  Spurgeon walked out. Wayne logged it: 3:14 p.m.

  They backtracked. They hit 95 North. They jumped on two car lengths apart. Wayne hovered back. Wayne slacked his leash. Wayne tailed long-distance.

  They drove back to Vegas. They stopped at Jordan High. Weird—Webb Junior went to LeConte.

  Spurgeon parked. Wayne parked two slots back. Kids walked by. Spurgeon covered his face.

  4:13 p.m.:

  A girl walks up. Said girl looks around. Said girl gets in daddy-o’s car.

  Spurgeon pulled out. Wayne snapped the leash. Wayne tailed him half-tight. The girl bobbed her head down. The car swerved and weaved. The girl bobbed her head up.

  She wiped her lips. She fixed her face. She teased her hair up.

  They hit 95 South. They cut toward Hoover Dam. They drove through the shitkicker sticks. Traffic thinned. Wayne slacked out the leash.

  Spurgeon turned left. Spurgeon hauled up a dirt road. Wayne parked by some scrub pines. Wayne grabbed his binoculars.

  He tracked up. He framed shots. He caught a split-rail cabin. The car sliced into the frame. The girl got out. She was sixteen tops. She ran long on hairspray and zits.

  Spurgeon got out. The girl jumped on him. They walked inside. Wayne logged the time: 5:09 p.m. Wayne logged stat rape and contributing—two Class B felonies.

  Wayne watched the cabin. Wayne watched his watch. He set up his Leica. He fixed the tripod. He slapped on the zoom doohickey.

  They fucked for 51 minutes. Wayne shot their exit drape. They kissed long and wet. He got their tongues in tight.

  Wayne parked by Monarch Cab. Wayne logged in at 6:43.

  The hut sagged. The roof drooped. Cinder blocks creaked. The lot was dusty. The fleet was old—three-tone Packards exclusive.

  Wayne watched the window. Eldon Peavy ran cabs. Eldon Peavy worked a two-way box. Eldon Peavy dealt solitaire.

  Drivers bopped through. Wayne made three felons—fruit rollers all. One guy beat Murder One. Said guy shivved a he-she at a drag queen ball. Said guy proved self-defense.

  Cabs rolled out. The pistons knocked. The mufflers coughed. The pipes shot fumes. The Monarch logo gleamed:

  A little man with a big crown. Red dice for teeth.

  Wayne yawned. Wayne stretched. Wayne scratched his balls. He was up in North LV. The Bondsmen gigged tonite. Barb wore her blue gown most gigs.

  A cab pulled out. Wayne tailed it. Rolling tails revived him. Night tails were cake. Cab tails double so—their roof lights stood out plain.

  Wayne sidled close. The cab hauled out Owens. They passed the Paiute graveyard. They hit West LV.

  Traffic was brisk. A car cut the cab off. Wayne swerved and hopped lanes. It was windy. It was cold. Tumbleweeds blew stray.

  They passed Owens and “H.” The bars rocked. The liquor stores rolled. Bottle hounds and out-the-door biz.

  There—the cab’s braking—upside the Cozy Nook.

  The cab stopped. The cab idled. The driver tapped the horn. Wayne idled back. Wayne saw four Negroes walk out.

  They saw the cab. They ran up. They flashed money. The driver dispensed packets. The
Negroes paid cash. The Negroes unwrapped benny rolls.

  They raised flasks. They popped pills. They did dance steps. They shucked and rehit the Nook.

  The cab pulled out. Wayne tailed it. The cab hit Lake Mead and “D.” There—the cab’s braking—upside the Wild Goose.

  A curb line stood ready—six Negroes—all with that hophead look. The cab stopped. The driver sold bennies. The Negroes shucked and rehit the Goose.

  The cab pulled out. Wayne tailed it. The cab hit the Gerson Park Flats. A man got in. The cab pulled out. Wayne tailed it near-close.

  There—the cab’s braking—upside Jackson and “E.” The driver parked. The driver got out. The driver swished into Skip’s Lounge.

  The driver wore rouge. The driver wore eye shadow. The driver vibed femme fatale. The driver stayed inside. Wayne clocked his visit: 6.4 minutes flat.

  The driver swished out. The driver swished and swung sacks. Said driver lugged coin sacks. Said driver fumbled them. Said driver tossed them in the trunk.

  Call it: Backroom slots—illegal—Monarch Cab–run.

  The cab pulled out. The cab hung a U-ey. Wayne tailed it close-close. There—the cab’s braking—upside the Evergreen Project.

  The passenger got out. The cab turned north. The headlights strafed parked cars.

  There—one parked Cadillac/one white face ducked low. Fuck—it’s Pete Bondurant—hunkered down low.

  Wayne caught a teaser shot—that and splitsville—poof and adieu.

  Wayne tailed the cab. The image stuck—Pete at the wheel. Darktown Pete—say what?—what we gots here?

  The cab hauled back to Monarch. Wayne tailed it un-close. Wayne parked in his standard tail spot.

  He yawned. He stretched. He pissed in his can. Time dragged. Time crawled. Time meandered.

  Wayne watched the window.

  Eldon Peavy shagged calls. Eldon Peavy popped pills. Eldon Peavy dealt solitaire.

  Drivers clocked in. Drivers lounged. Drivers clocked out. They played cards. They rolled dice. They primped.

  Time slogged. Wayne yawned. Wayne stretched. Wayne picked his nose.

  A limo pulled up. Whitewalls and fender skirts/mock-leather top. Wayne clocked it: 2:03 a.m.