The Chelsea Girls(78)

“An ugly name. I understand why you’d want to change it.”

I remained silent. Waiting.

“And your oma, isn’t that what they call a grandmother in German? An oma? She’s living in Seattle, I’ve been told. She’s not well.”

“No, she’s not.” The money I’d been sending had enabled her to hire a helper around the house. In my last letter, I’d invited her to come live with me in California, where I could keep a closer eye on her. But now Roy Cohn had his talons in her.

“It would be terrible if she was suddenly deported back to Germany. I’d hate to see that.”

The fact that both Mr. Cohn and Arthur, who sat on opposite sides of the political arena, would use the same tactic almost made me laugh. Instead, I broke out into a sweat.

Coming in, I’d thought that I had the power as a pretty young starlet. But he’d done his research, while I’d wandered in blind; I was a butterfly about to be pinned to a corkboard. “You can’t do that,” I said. “She doesn’t know anyone back there, there’s no one left.”

“That would be tragic.”

I began to shake. “You’re threatening to hurt an old woman in order to get me to talk?”

“Look, Miss Mead, please don’t get upset.” He put down his pen. “Here’s the truth: Any names we already have are people who have been confirmed, it’s not like you’re adding anything new to the mix. All you have to do at this point is concur. That’s all we’re asking. Is that really too much?”

Overwhelmed with fear, all of my training—both as an actress and as a spy—fell to the wayside. I could only imagine my grandmother stepping off an airplane in Germany, bewildered, clutching her purse to her chest as she looked around for a familiar face, and finding none.

So I’d cracked.

Hazel was staring at me oddly, and I realized I’d been lost in thought.

“Did you name me?” she asked.

“You aren’t a communist and I told them that.”

Hazel gave me a look of disgust. “You and I both know that’s not the point. They asked me about Ben; did they bring up his name with you?”

I paused a moment. “He’s gone, so really what does it matter either way?” The words sounded worse out loud than they had in my head. Sarcastic, derisive.

Hazel’s face went from alarmed to appalled. “You’re a monster. Even if he’s the one who drew you into this, you would ruin the name of a good man, a soldier, just to get yourself out of trouble? To keep your fancy life in the limelight?”

Ben Ripley hadn’t drawn me into this. In fact, I was the one trying to turn him. If I spoke those words out loud, I would be free from all the lies. But I couldn’t.

Hazel sat back, arms crossed. “You’re playing their game. That’s the whole reason for this ridiculous exercise, to make you bow down to their level. How could you?”

I stayed quiet.

“Who else did you name? Tell me now. Tell me everyone.”

“They had the names already, I wasn’t telling them anything new.” I tossed them off, one after another, as if by saying them fast, it would minimize the damage. “Philip Loeb, Clifford Odets, Burl Ives, Zero Mostel. They were already listed in Red Channels. Or had been named by someone else. I didn’t add anyone new.”

“You told Cohn they were communists?”

“I only mentioned people who were open about their affiliation in the past. I mean, it’s public record. He wouldn’t have let me off the hook any other way. And this way I could use my earnings to help you.”

“All your excuses,” sneered Hazel. “‘He’s dead.’ ‘She’d already admitted it.’ You’re a traitor and a snitch. I’ll never forgive you.”

The enormity of what I’d done hit me, hard. “They threatened to go after my family, my grandmother.”

Hazel stared at me, fury in her eyes.

“Cohn said he’d deport my grandmother if I didn’t cooperate. I had no choice. She only has me, I had to protect her. If Mr. Cohn sent my grandmother back to Germany, she’d never recover. She’s too frail. It would kill her.”

The waiter came by with refills but Hazel waved him away. “By renaming those who have already been named, you confirmed the politicians’ view that there are subversives lurking around every corner who might be a danger to this country. You reminded everyone in the artistic community that they could be fired, have their career upended, have their lives ruined, if they don’t do what you just did. You’ve prolonged the agony for all of us. These aren’t just names, they’re real people who’ll be turned into pariahs because you added fuel to the fire.”

“But the communists are everywhere, even if you don’t see it.”

“What do you mean?” Hazel gaped at me.

I’d said too much. “Mr. Cohn told me that by naming people, it showed that I’d broken with my past.”

“You have no past. You went to one rally.”

If she only knew. Confirming the names he already had was my way of declaring that I was done with the Communist Party, done with Arthur, and regretted all my terrible misdeeds.

“You know what Nazis did to people they suspected of not being on their side?” Hazel didn’t wait for me to respond. “They asked people who were under suspicion, ‘Who recruited you?’ and ‘Who did you recruit?’ They did that in order to break down the social ties between them, to prevent any kind of organized resistance. It’s no different here in the United States, where we’re being asked to betray our friends. They’re ripping our community apart, ripping it to shreds.”