The Big Bundle by Max Allan Collins

Author:Max Allan Collins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags:  
Publisher: Titan

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The next morning I caught Bob Kennedy in his cubbyhole in the New Senate Office Building basement. Sitting behind his desk in a short-sleeve white shirt with his tie loosened slightly, he seemed composed and in utter control; but his cluttered desk told another story.

“Hoffa suggested you go to St. Louis?” Bob said, amused though his eyes were alert. He’d been slumped there when I entered, but my report of the cooler conversation with his nemesis had him sitting up straight now.

“He did,” I said. “At least, he presented it as a possibility. He probably mostly wanted me to pump you for what you’re up to.”

Bob tossed a pencil on his desk. “Well, uh, that’s ridiculous, it’s comical, because he knows exactly what we’re up to.”

So did I. The Rackets Committee was on the same path they’d taken to send Hoffa’s predecessor Dave Beck to prison on income tax fraud, an approach that dated back to the days of Al Capone and my late friend Eliot Ness. They were looking into savings accounts, business holdings, real estate, and insurance policies, as well as travel receipts and phone records. This should lead to a credible estimate of Hoffa’s net worth—wealth that wages, investments and inheritances couldn’t explain.

On the other hand, that wouldn’t be easy, and Kennedy damn well knew it—not with Hoffa’s fleet of world-class lawyers and accountants…not to mention all those members of Congress and journalists in his off-the-rack pocket. Like the one he took that choke-a-horse wad of cash out of.

The best, perhaps the only, way to topple Hoffa was the approach Bob had been taking in the hearings—linking America’s favorite union boss to organized crime. After all, that’s what got the Teamsters tossed out of the AFL-CIO—Hoffa’s much deserved reputation for being in bed with mob types. And, as Jimmy himself had admitted, if Kennedy linked him to enough corruption and brutality, the union president could well lose the love and support of his membership.

“This Lippman, the Retail Clerks guy,” I said. “You bringing him in to testify? Hoffa dared you to. Why not take him up on it? You want to show Hoffa’s members what he’s capable of? Well, threatening another union leader to his fucking face with killing him ought to do it.”

Bob’s sigh seemed more than a man his size could muster. “I spoke to Lippman on the phone after the session yesterday. He won’t go public. His retail clerks depend on the Teamsters to pitch in on boycotts and picket lines and such.”

“Where does that leave you?”

The boyish face looked past me blankly, then blossomed into a smile and his eyes traveled to mine. “Do the job for Hoffa. You took his money, didn’t you?”

Part of my original agreement with Bob last year was that I would not turn over Hoffa’s payments to the committee for a bribery case to be made against the union leader. My position was that if it ever came out, no client would ever trust me again. Bob had thought I was just trying to find a way to keep the money.

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