Chapter 112: Chess Players
The next day, at the Washington Administrative Office Building, Dawes sat in silence behind his desk.
The building housed both the War Department and the US State Department, and it also contained the Vice President's office. After careful thought, Dawes had chosen not to move into the President's office. He still worked out of the Vice President's rooms, as though nothing had changed.
It was not a performance.
At least, not entirely.
For now, he had no intention of letting the whole of America know that the President had been shot. On the one hand, the matter involved high ranking naval officers. Once the truth came out, he did not dare gamble on whether the Navy would remain obedient, or whether warships might suddenly steam up the Potomac in the name of outrage, justice, or some other excuse.
On the other hand, he had his own calculations.
He wanted the news of the President's shooting to be released together with the killer, together with part of the truth, and together with a conclusion already in hand. Only then could he shape the public narrative. Only then could he establish himself, in the eyes of the American people, as an efficient President who acted decisively under pressure.
Of course, he could not suppress it forever.
At most, for a week.
Three days remained until Monday's Senate session, the one that would include the vote on the Attorney General and the formal introduction of the first draft of the shipbuilding agreement. He could not appear there both as President and as Vice President presiding over the Senate.
In truth, he did not even have a full week.
Many politicians in Washington had already sensed the truth. They simply lacked the courage to expose it before the White House issued a definitive statement.
What worried Dawes more than the politicians, however, was the military.
If this had been an assassination aimed at a foreign dignitary that accidentally struck the President instead, then the matter could still be contained. But if the true target had been the President himself, then all his efforts at secrecy would become a complete joke. In that case, the conspirators already knew what they had done, and every hour of silence merely gave them more room to maneuver.
Over the past few days, he had repeatedly imagined how many officers from the old Roosevelt camp Krag might rally if given time. Krag had connections in both the Army and the Navy. Although Dawes did not believe he could truly incite open mutiny in both branches, he had no doubt that he could stir trouble.
That was why he had not moved immediately.
If he ordered arrests too early and too openly, he might provoke a conflict before he had the evidence firmly in hand. A clash between the National Guard and sections of the Army and Navy was still only a remote possibility, but even a remote possibility had to be respected when the stakes were this high.
Just then, a crisp knock interrupted his thoughts.
"Come in."
Edgar Hoover straightened his collar before entering. He approached the desk with unusual care and placed a thick report before Dawes, one that had clearly been compiled in haste over a sleepless night.
"Mr. President, we now have sufficient evidence to show that Admiral Krag participated in planning the Third Avenue shooting."
Dawes's eyes sharpened.
Hoover continued at once.
"His adjutant has admitted to helping him mail funds before the incident. The amount matches the money later donated by the three gunmen to the orphanage. In addition, we have correspondence, witness testimony, and enough material to justify immediate action."
He drew in a breath before finishing.
"Please issue a search warrant at once. Our men are already stationed around Krag's apartment and are monitoring his movements continuously."
Dawes lowered his gaze and read the report from beginning to end, line by line, word by word.
As he read, the tension in his brow gradually eased.
At last he set the file down.
"I understand. Seal every document related to this matter as top secret. Every agent involved is to sign a non disclosure agreement."
He paused, then added, "I will give you the arrest warrant tomorrow."
Hoover blinked.
"Tomorrow?"
"Yes," Dawes said. "Everything will be done quietly. No noise. No spectacle."
The thought of a serving naval commander being tied to an attempt on the President's life was far too explosive to be thrown into the open all at once. Dawes had no intention of telling the public the full truth. Not at first.
Much better to frame it differently.
A deranged, drug addled veteran. A man broken by war. A private act of madness, not a crack in the state itself.
That would be far easier for the country to digest.
"Yes, Mr. President."
Hoover almost seemed relieved to be dismissed. He had barely slept in days, and the strain showed in the lines beneath his eyes. He turned and left as fast as decorum allowed.
Dawes thought he would finally have a moment to breathe.
Then came another knock.
A secretary leaned in through the door. "Your Excellency, Mr. Jack Morgan wishes to see you. He says it concerns the Third Avenue shooting."
Dawes frowned slightly.
"Let him in."
A moment later, Jack Morgan entered, carrying a leather briefcase beneath one arm. Without wasting time on pleasantries, he sat down across from Dawes, opened the case, and produced a stack of documents.
Letters.
Photographs.
Draft instructions Krag had prepared for several Army officers.
Jack laid them on the desk one by one.
"Jörg was the target, wasn't he, Mr. Dawes?" he said bluntly. "I suggest you arrest Krag immediately, along with the officers he has influenced through the old Roosevelt network, and have them committed to a mental institution. Lock them away for the rest of their lives."
Dawes studied him for a moment.
Jack's tone was furious, but the fury was not pure. Beneath it, Dawes could hear ambition, calculation, and the scent of opportunity.
He answered calmly, "Calm yourself, Jack. It was not Jörg who was shot. It was President Coolidge."
That revelation visibly changed Jack's expression.
Some of the tension left his shoulders. In his eyes, Jörg mattered far more than a President who might change every four years. Jörg was connected directly to the Morgan family's profits, to future leverage, to Europe itself.
Once his breathing steadied, Jack pressed on, no less forcefully than before.
"Then all the more reason to remove those madmen."
He leaned forward.
"The moment officers begin forming factions in the military and arranging assassinations, the matter stops being personal and becomes treason. Not just Krag. The whole Roosevelt camp inside the services should be cleaned out. And while you're at it, why not deal with those progressive politicians as well, the ones constantly attacking free enterprise and clamoring for more government intervention?"
There it was.
Dawes saw it clearly at once.
Jack was not merely urging action against Krag. He was trying to use the moment to widen the strike, to settle old scores, and to clip the wings of his political enemies, especially the progressives and everyone still living under the shadow of Theodore Roosevelt.
Originally, Dawes had intended only to calm him and send him away.
But Jack's suggestion planted a new idea in his mind.
He was right about one thing.
This was indeed an opportunity.
The Senate had long been burdened by progressives, both in the Progressive Party itself and inside the Democratic camp. If this crisis were handled skillfully, the officers tied to the Roosevelt faction could be purged, and the political echoes of that camp could be weakened at the same time.
As for the military, the calculation was even more obvious.
Jack was absolutely correct there.
Opportunities to tighten control over the armed forces did not come often. Remove the warmongers, fill the vacancies with loyal men, and his position as President would immediately become more secure.
His thoughts moved quickly, but his face remained composed.
He did not openly agree to Jack's wider ambitions. Nor did he reject them.
Instead, he corrected the latter point and let the first linger.
"This is not about politicians, Jack," Dawes said in a measured tone. "But you are right about one thing. Forming factions inside the armed forces and arranging murder is unforgivable. That is treason, plain and simple."
Then he leaned back slightly.
"Do not worry. I will investigate it thoroughly."
Jack opened his mouth, perhaps to push further, but Dawes raised a hand and continued, gentler in tone now, but firm enough to remind him who sat behind the desk.
"And please, do not spread this matter further."
Then, as though only just remembering, he looked down at the documents again.
"By the way, where did you get these letters and photographs? Does the Morgan family now make a habit of monitoring high ranking military officers?"
Jack had stepped a little too far and knew it. He gave a short laugh and adjusted his cuffs.
"A particularly diligent reporter uncovered them," he said smoothly. "He was preparing to run the story, and the newspaper in question happens to belong to Morgan interests. When I saw the material, I understood its significance and came straight here."
.....
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