“What do you want?” said George.

Hugo grinned. He could not conceal his pleasure. He said: “One of Martin Luther King’s advisers is a Communist.”

George was shocked. This accusation could blight the entire civil rights movement. He felt cold with worry. You could never prove that someone was not a Communist—and anyway, the truth hardly mattered: just the suggestion was deadly. Like the accusation of witchcraft in the Middle Ages, it was an easy way to stir up hatred among stupid and ignorant people.

“Who is this adviser?” George asked Hugo.

Hugo looked at a file, as if he had to refresh his memory. “Stanley Levison,” he said.

“That doesn’t sound like a Negro name.”

“He’s a Jew.” Hugo took a photograph from the file and handed it over.

George saw an undistinguished white face with receding hair and large spectacles. The man was wearing a bow tie. George had met King and his people in Atlanta, and none of them looked like this. “Are you sure he works for the Southern Christian Leadership Conference?”

“I didn’t say he worked for King. He’s a New York attorney. Also a successful businessman.”

“So in what sense is he an ‘adviser’ to Dr. King?”

“He helped King get his book published, and defended him from a tax-evasion lawsuit in Alabama. They don’t meet often, but they talk on the phone.”

George sat upright. “How would you know a thing like that?”

“Sources,” Hugo said smugly.

“So, you claim that Dr. King sometimes telephones a New York attorney and gets advice on tax and publishing matters.”

“From a Communist.”

“How do you know he’s a Communist?”

“Sources.”

“What sources?”

“We can’t reveal the identities of informants.”

“You can to the attorney general.”

“You’re not the attorney general.”

“Do you know Levison’s card number?”

“What?” Hugo was momentarily flustered.

“Communist Party members have a card, as you know. Each card has a number. What’s Levison’s card number?”

Hugo pretended to search for it. “I don’t think that’s in this file.”

“So you can’t prove Levison is a Communist.”

“We don’t need proof,” Hugo said, showing irritation. “We’re not going to prosecute him. We’re simply informing the attorney general of our suspicions, as is our duty.”

George’s voice rose. “You’re blackening Dr. King’s name by claiming that a lawyer he consulted is a Communist—and you offer no evidence whatsoever?”

“You’re right,” said Hugo, surprising George. “We need more evidence. That’s why we’ll be asking for a wiretap on Levison’s phone.” The attorney general had to authorize wiretaps. “The file is for you.” He proffered it.

George did not take it. “If you wiretap Levison you’ll be listening to some of Dr. King’s calls.”

Hugo shrugged. “People who talk to Communists take the risk of being wiretapped. Anything wrong with that?”

George thought there was something wrong with that, in a free country, but he did not say so. “We don’t know that Levison is a Communist.”

“So we need to find out.”

George took the file, stood up, and opened the door.