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 Digitized by tine Internet Arcliive
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Spiro T* Agnew

WILLIAM MORROW AND COMPANY, INC.

New York 1980
Copyright © 1980 by Spiro T. Agnew

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photo-
copying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system,
without permission in writing from the Publisher. Inquiries should be ad-
dressed to Wilham Morrow and Company, Inc., 105 Madison Ave., New
York, N. Y. 10016.

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 80-80399

ISBN 0-688-03668-6

Printed in the United States of America

First Edition

123456789 10

Book Design by Michael Mauceri

To Frank Sinatra

20SS5S2
 CONTENTS

Prologue 9
1. Play the Part Well 13
2. SALT and Some Pepper 22
3. These Guys Are Desperate 42
4. Who Would Believe It? 56
5. How Can We Prove It? 67
6. Strike While the Iron Is Hot 78
7. The Point of No Return 86
8. We Think You Should Resign 95
9. Nothing to Hide 105
10. First One In Gets the Best Deal 116
11. Get the Bastard 130
12. A Large Lump to Swallow 140
13. The President Will Call for Your Resignation 157

14. Pal, It's A Damn Shame 163

15. A Candle Is Only So Long 181
16. Get That Guy Out of There 194
17. A Joyous Party In the East Room 201
Epilogue 215
Appendix 225
Index 279
7
 PROLOGUE

I am writing this book because I am innocent of the allegations

against me which compelled me to resign from the vice-presidency
of the United States in 1973.
This is not to say I have not made mistakes, or failed to do
things I ought to have done, or done things I ought not to have
done. I am human, and my conduct has been no better and no
worse than that of other officeholders in these United States.
But I am innocent of the charges of bribery and extortion which
are detailed in the Exposition of Evidence filed against me by
the prosecutors in the United States District Court of Maryland.
I categorically denied these allegations in open court, and I con-
tinue to deny them to this day.
It has taken me a long time to confront squarely the immutable
reality that this book cannot further be delayed. During the past
six years, I have found many reasons to put off the detailed re-
visitation of the most unpleasant days of my life. Some of the
reasons were good ones, and others were simply defensive. For
me, the writing of this book has reopened old wounds, as I knew
it would. There is little doubt that its discussion will bring more
pain. There is no hell quite like being dissected before an audi-
ence of millions. But the story must be told to complete the his-
torical record— even if it changes few opinions.
I am not so naive as to think that even if I could prove my
innocence beyond any reasonable doubt there would not still
be many people— some of much influence and even of fair-minded-
ness—who would disbelieve me.
I have made many enemies in my political life. I believe this
happened mainly because I was an outspoken advocate of un-
popular stands— stands which I believed were correct and still
believe to be correct. I was a conservative at a time when liberals
9
10 GO QUIETLY or else
captured the imagination and sympathy of the communications
media. I took a tough hne when those who had the attention of
the nation wanted a weak Hne. I staunchly and loyally supported
a President who eventually left office against his will and in
disgrace. I challenged some of the myths of the liberal establish-
ment. And perhaps more dangerous politically to myself than any
other factor, I antagonized the press of this nation.
I turned on them— the newspapers, the newsmagazines, the
radio and television people— the same glaring light of examination
that they so indiscriminately, and sometimes so recklessly, turn
on those in public oflBce. I believe in a free press, not an irre-
sponsible press, and because of that belief I was reviled and
damned.
Friends have warned that this book will goad my enemies to
further efforts to destroy me, and that new accusations and
revelations from "reliable sources" will plague my peace. That
is probably true, but hardly a valid reason for silence. Agnew-
phobes have never held back in the past.
Other friends have positively hungered for this book. They say
that covering up in a corner and taking the blows without any
defense is alien to my nature. They too are correct.
In any event, I am glad I waited. The passage of time has
revealed a great deal that was hidden on October 10, 1973, the
day I resigned. Details dredged by those who used the Freedom
of Information Act to seek undisclosed Agnew wrongdoing have
proved helpful, rather than harmful. Braggadocian struttings by
the celebrated prosecutorial giant-killers have given great insight
into their motivations and machinations. Best of all, the ultimate
payment to the witnesses against me, a quid pro quo that the
Justice Department still denies having made, is now naked for
all to see. Three of the four government witnesses who admitted
to serious crimes in the Exposition of Evidence have walked away
scot-free— no imprisonments, no fines, no convictions to mar
their futures. The fourth went to jail for a few months, but not for
any offense related to my case.
But in spite of all this, no easy, clear-cut proof of my innocence
is available to me. I am a man who was judged out of court on the
basis of false testimony abetted by those who sought my political
ruin. So eager were my enemies to convict me, not one questioned
the fact there was no corroboration that I had committed the
 PROLOGUE 11

alleged crimes. Nor could there have been any corroboration.

As a man I once knew often said, let me make one thing per-
fectly clear. This is not an autobiography; it is not intended to
be a chronological account of my life. Primarily, it covers the
events leading to my resignation. Secondarily, it reflects a little
of my philosophy and my thoughts on the course of our country.
Finally, it tells in part what my life has been like after leaving
public office under the label "disgraced former Vice-President
and convicted felon."
Because this is not a complete memoir, I have made no attempt
to express here my appreciation to many, many people who have,
at one time or another, touched and lighted my life. Someday
in the future I may write a complete autobiography and will
then have an opportunity to thank them adequately. Meanwhile,
I would be remiss if I failed to acknowledge the invaluable help
of the former and present members of my staff who accumulated
and correlated much of the record upon which this book is based.
I am also grateful to my lawyers and the members of my former
Secret Service details for their recollections and assistance. But
most of all, I am indebted to my family and friends, whose
loyalty and faith sustained me during some very dark days.
— Spiro T. Agnew

THE NUMBER OF THOSE WHO UN-

DERGO THE FATIGUE OF JUDGING
FOR THEMSELVES IS VERY SMALL IN-
DEED.
—Richard Sheridan
1777
 CHAPTER ONE
PLAY THE PART WELL

It was four minutes past 2:00 p.m., October 10, 1973, when
the baihff intoned the ancient Htany; the judge was approaching.
Background noise from the crowded room abated, except for
the voices of the few who never quiet immediately on instruction.
Everyone rose as directed, eyes on the black-robed, stocky figure
quickly mounting the few steps to the bench.
I was conscious only of the ritual. It seemed very important
to play the part well— to stand erect, to be calm, to retain dignity,
to speak clearly and firmly.
There was a rustle of clothing as, again on signal, we sat. I
felt the presence of my New York trial counsel— Jay Topkis and
Martin London— beside me at the table, but I did not look at
them. My attention was fixed on Judge Walter E. Hoffman. He
was stage center, and he was about to begin the case of United
States of America v. Spiro T. Agnew.
Judd Best, the Washington lawyer who had been with me
from the beginning of the recent months of travail, entered the
courtroom and sat down beside me. "Your letter of resignation
has been delivered to the Secretary of State as you directed,"
he said quietly.
I nodded absently, keeping my attention on the judge, who
through his questions to my senior counsel, Topkis, was now in-
forming the observers that what they were about to witness was
not an interlocutory proceeding concerning news leaks, but a
criminal determination by the federal government against one
Spiro T. Agnew— until a few moments before, the Vice-President
of the United States. An audible murmur of surprise ran through
the room, quickly followed by absolute silence. If anyone had
accepted the judge's invitation to leave unless able to remain
for the duration of the proceedings, I was not aware of it.
13
14 GO QUIETLY or else
And I would have noticed anything that was unimportant at
that moment. My mind was seeking diversion by concentrating
on the immediate. I was numb— outside myself looking down on
the scene as though it were a dream. Some buffer in my brain
pushed away full realization of the enormity of the personal
tragedy that was taking place. Grief and sorrow were held in a
secret cage to be released later in a private place. I only knew
I must not break in public. I could not give my enemies that
satisfaction.
I stood to answer questions put directly to me by the court to
be certain I understood the plea agreement. My fingers rested
lightly on the table. There was no shaking; my voice was steady.
Inside me another voice said, "It's only a play, only a play."
EarHer that day, I had said the same thing to Arthur J. Sohmer,
my Ghief of Staff, as I made my last journey as Vice-President
of the United States— the relatively short drive on the expressway
from the Executive Office Building in Washington to this court-
room in Baltimore's old Federal Building. We had gone several
miles without a word from Art or the two Secret Service agents
in the front seat. The gloom was as thick as a London fog. Finally,
I broke the silence by remarking that life is unpredictable, and
you have to play the cards you are dealt. We began to talk about
Shakespeare's As You Like It, and the truth of the lines: "All
the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely play-
ers ..." I remember saying that I had a choice— either to live
with the situation as it was or let it kill me. "Tomorrow," I said, "I
will still have obligations to my family. My choice is to make
the best I can of it."
The two agents, who were close to me and to our whole family,
were visibly affected by the poignancy of the moment. Art
Sohmer had been with me from the very beginning of my political
career in the 1950's in Baltimore County. He had watched me
go through good times and bad. It was his choice to accompany
me through this final demeaning appearance. He said simply, "I
was with you at the beginning and I'm going to be with you at
the end."
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Art was wiping
his eyes with his handkerchief. I felt a surge of emotion. I didn't
dare look at him for fear of crying. So I focused on the idea that
this was just a play and that I must perform my part creditably.
 PLAY THE PART WELL 15

That self-deception was my device to keep myself in tight con-

trol, and it served me well then and later on, in the courtroom.
Now U.S. Attorney George Beall was presenting to the court
*'the Attorney General of the United States, the Honorable Elliot
L. Richardson," as well as the Assistant Attorney General, Henry
Petersen. Beall then handed the court a copy of the single-count
criminal information alleging income tax evasion for the year
1967, which I had agreed not to contest. Topkis confirmed this,
and Judge Hoffman began to address me again.
I quickly rose to my feet to answer a series of questions that
confirmed my knowledge I was waiving my right to trial, and
that the judge would find me guilty of the felony of tax evasion.
Again, the inner voice saying, "Life's just a play— play out the
role you have been given."
Then that was over, and I was listening to Elliot Richardson
outline the accusations against me that would not be brought to
trial. I knew this tainted testimony by heart, and my mind
wandered.
What was I, Ted Agnew, doing in this courtroom, suddenly
the defendant in a criminal trial? My whole experience with the
law had been as a lawyer and teacher, not a felon. I loved the
orderliness of the law, its rote and its unhurried logic. How many
times had I stood in courtrooms like this as a respected officer of
the court? How could a lifetime of work and accomplishment—
that had led me to the second-highest office in a nation of two
hundred and twenty million free people— be destroyed in an
afternoon? The numbness in me spread. I felt vacant, drained,
incapable of reacting to either pain or pleasure. I stared at the
walnut paneling behind the bench, only half conscious of what
was being said around me.
Now Judge Hoffman was calling on me again, this time to
afford me the opportunity to comment prior to sentencing. As I
got to my feet, a terrible fatigue came over me. I fought it back.
Play the part, play the part, I told myself.
*'Thank you. Your Honor," I said. Suddenly, new strength
flowed through me. I was going to address the court, and that
was something I knew how to do, had been trained to do. I
picked up my prepared statement and was pleased to see that
my hand was steady. I would play the part to the end.
"May I say, at the outset, I want to express my appreciation
16 GO QUIETLY or else
for the courtesy and cooperation extended to me through my
counsel in their deliberations with the prosecutors and through-
out the consultation on this matter," I began.
"My decision to resign and enter a plea of nolo contendere rests
on my belief that the public interest requires a swift disposition
of the problems which are facing me. I am advised that a full
legal defense of the probable charges against me could consume
several years. I am concerned that intense media interest in the
case would distract public attention from important national
problems, to the country's detriment.
"I am aware that witnesses are prepared to testify that I and
my agents received payments from consulting engineers doing
business with the State of Maryland during the period I was
Governor.
"With the exception of the admission that follows, I categori-
cally deny the assertions of illegal acts on my part made by gov-
ernment witnesses.
"I admit that I did receive payments during the year 1967
which were not expended for political purposes and that therefore
these payments were income, taxable to me in that year, and
that I so knew.
"I further acknowledge that contracts were awarded by state
agencies in 1967 and other years to those who made such pay-
ments, and that I was aware of such awards. I am aware that
government witnesses are prepared to testify that preferential
treatment was accorded to the paying companies pursuant to an
understanding with me when I was Governor. I stress, however,
that no contracts were awarded to contractors who were not
competent to perform the work and, in most instances, state con-
tracts were awarded without any arrangement for the payment of
money by the contractor.
"I deny that the payments in any way influenced my official
actions. I am confident, moreover, that testimony presented in
my behalf would make it clear that I at no time conducted my
official duties as County Executive or Governor of Maryland in
a manner harmful to the interests of the county or state, or my
duties as Vice-President of the United States in a manner harm-
ful to the nation; and I further assert that my acceptance of con-
tributions was part of a long-established pattern of political
 PLAY THE PART WELL 17

fund-raising in the state. At no time have I enriched myself at

the expense of my pubHc trust.
"In all the circumstances, I have concluded that protracted
proceedings before the grand jury, the Congress, and the courts,
with the speculation and controversy inevitably surrounding
them, would seriously prejudice the national interest.
"These, briefly stated, Your Honor, are the reasons that I am
entering a plea of nolo contendere to the charge that I did re-
ceive payments in 1967 which I failed to report for the purposes
of income taxation."
Judge Hoffman then summed up the proceedings and began
the final disposition of the case. In the course of this he indicated
that the statements of the parties— the forty-page exposition of
evidence by the government and my one-page blanket denial of
these assertions—were totally irrelevant, as far as the court was
concerned. He allowed them in because they were "part of the
understanding between the parties" and "because of the charges
and countercharges which have received so much advance pub-
licity." He went on to say that "the truth of these charges and
countercharges can never be established by any judicial decision
or action,*' and that "it would have been my preference to omit
these statements and end the verbal warfare as to this tragic
event in history."
The judge, after commenting about his usual disposition of
income tax cases, asked me if I had anything further to say.
I said, "I have no further comments. Your Honor." My role was
nearly over. Only remaining were the words that would change
my life irreversibly and commit me to the disgrace of the label
"convicted felon."
"It is the judgment of the court that imposition of any sentence
be suspended for a period of three years, conditioned that you,
Spiro T. Agnew, at all times will be of uniform good behavior,
that you will not violate the laws of the United States or any
state; that as a further condition of this probation, you are to pay
a fine in the sum of ten thousand dollars within thirty days from
this date, or otherwise stand committed for nonpayment of
said fine; and that you shall not be required to be under the
supervision of the probation oflicer of this court unless otherwise
ordered by the court."
18 GO QUIETLY or else

It was exactly 2:47 p.m. In just forty- three minutes my life had
been drastically altered.
After Judge Hoffman left the courtroom, there was a mad
scramble by the news media to get to the phones. I quickly shook
hands with my lawyers and followed the Secret Service agents
out through a side door. Later, I learned that the Attorney Gen-
eral and Assistant Attorney General, at the moment I left, had
been making their way toward me to offer condolences. I am glad
I was spared that ultimate hypocrisy.
The agents led me quickly through a narrow corridor and to a
waiting elevator, which whisked me down to the side entrance
of the courthouse where the cars were waiting. As I stepped out
on the street, I was confronted by a few members of the press
and television media. Most were at the main entrance on Calvert
Street.
Recognizing a few faces from earlier political days, I stopped
for a moment. Almost at once, a crowd gathered. Flashbulbs
popped in the hazy gray afternoon light. Asked to comment on
what had happened, I said that I had resigned "in the best in-
terests ofthe nation" and *'to spare my family from a brutalizing
court fight that could have lasted two years."
Then Sohmer and I jumped in the back seat and we were off,
with the follow-up car right behind us. As I looked out the rear
window, I could see a horde of frustrated newsmen running
toward the spot we had just left.
Although I felt some relief that the months of indecision and
anxiety were finally over, my next destination was hardly one to
improve my state of mind. Just the day before, my half-brother,
Roy Pollard, had succumbed to a massive stroke. Now I would
join his wife, Anne, at the funeral home. Judy and my elderly
aunt— who had been as close as a mother to Roy and me— would
meet me there.
At 3:15 P.M. we arrived at the Loring Beyer Funeral Home in
Randallstown, Maryland. As we pulled to the rear parking lot, I
saw a sizable press contingent waiting at the door. There was to
be no privacy, not even in this moment of grief.
We got out of the car and I thanked Art. The Secret Service
were having a shift change here, and Art would return to Wash-
ington with the relieved detail. When the new agents and I
entered the funeral parlor, some of the press tried to accompany
 PLAY THE PART WELL 19

me. Someone from the funeral home stopped them at the door.
I guess they expected to photograph me at the casket, but I
wanted none of that. I beheve even a pubHc man is entitled to
some privacy.
Once inside, I went immediately to Judy, Anne Pollard, and
my aunt. One of our daughters, Susan, was also there. Friends
were in the room. There was no emotional scene. Our family is
not very demonstrative of inner feelings. Faces were drawn and
eyes were a little glazed, but there were no tears. Judy looked
hard at me to see how I was holding up. She is such a tower of
strength in any crisis. I think she was relieved to see that I wasn't
about to crack. My poor aunt, over eighty and not in the best of
health, was bravely bearing up under the strain. I don't think
she fully realized at that moment what had happened to me.
It was a good thing. She had had about all she could handle in
the death of one of her favorite nephews.
We stayed at the funeral home until about 7:00 p.m. It was
difficult for me to receive my brother's and my friends knowing
that the news of my resignation and conviction was being flashed
all over the world. People tried to be considerate, but they
couldn't avoid staring at me. Several times I wanted to say,
"Stop staring at me. I'm not a freak on display. I'm a human
being, just as you are, and I don't want my hurt to be examined
so clinically."
By the time we had taken my aunt to her home near Towson,
it was nearly eight o'clock. I had not eaten anything but a small
breakfast, and I was quite hungry. We decided to stop at Saba-
tino's, a favorite restaurant in Baltimore's Little Italy, before re-
turning to Kenwood. Judy and I and Susan had a quiet dinner.
Later, an item written by a columnist made me seem insensitive
and crass for "having the stomach" to celebrate at dinner after
such a day. Well, the meal was not a wake, nor was it a morose
discussion of our new low station in life. It was a family meal,
one of the kind I hope we will continue to have, fair weather
or foul.
Riding back home in the car, I put my head back against the
cushion, closed my eyes, and the events of this difficult day re-
played in my mind.
I remembered awakening at 7:00 a.m. after about two hours
of sound sleep. There was a brief moment of unawareness, and
20 GO QUIETLY or else
then the reahzation of what the day was to be coursed through
me in a nerve-wracking wave. While I was shaving I began to
feel a little better, to think of a few good things— that I had ar-
ranged for my staff to be taken care of, and that at last every-
thing would be out: there would be no more uncertainty.
When I arrived at my E.O.B. office at 9:20 a.m., Art Sohmer
and my secretary, Mary Ellen Warner, were waiting for me with
mail to be signed, and a deluge of last-minute details. David
Keene, the staff member who had worked hard to arrange a now-
canceled breakfast with some House members, was pressing to
see me. Other staff members, also unaware that I was already
well into my final hours as Vice-President, wanted to consult
with me about ongoing projects. I simply had to put them off.
Mary Ellen told me that Judd Best was on his way over to
discuss the final draft of the settlement papers. She had been
my personal secretary for only a few years, but had worked in
my office since I was governor. When she put my usual cup of
coffee on the desk, I noticed that her hand was shaking. She was
an excellent secretary, dedicated and totally loyal, as was Alice
Fringer, who had begun with me in Baltimore County and had
retired not long after I became Vice-President. When I look
back on my days in public office, I am always impressed by the
quality of the people whom I persuaded to work with me. Many
of them are still close friends, and most keep in touch with
Judy and me. The same thing is true of the Secret Service agents
who were assigned to the vice-presidential detail during my time.
I cannot say enough good things about these fine young profes-
sionals, who were thrown by circumstance into such close contact
with the Agnew family.
Judd Best came in a little later and we went over the papers
and scenario for the imminent drama. He was calm and unruf-
fled, never losing his perspective or his sense of humor under the
most difficult circumstances.
Shortly after 1:30 p.m., Jerry Parr, the Secret Service shift
leader that morning, informed me that it was time to leave for
Baltimore. I remember the distress on Mary Ellen's face as I was
leaving.
the tears.She hurried back into her office so that I wouldn't see
Then came the events I have already recoimted here. T went
over the whole day in my mind, and I could feel the depression
 PLAY THE PART WELL 21

returning. I reached over, took my wife's hand. She held on

very tight. Somehow that made it better.

When I awakened the next morning from the deep sleep

brought on by total emotional exhaustion, I wanted nothing more
than to pull the covers over my head and withdraw from the
human race. The terrible emptiness had returned and had brought
an unwelcome companion, self-pity. "Why me?" I thought. "Why
have I been singled out to be punished for things I did not do?"
But there was no time to withdraw from reality and brood.
That very day I had responsibilities that must be performed—
responsibilities that would force me to go to public places. The
news media were already camped outside our home. I knew the
reporters would be everywhere I went, recording my actions for
the world to see.
We rolled out of the driveway past the clicking cameras and
the shouts of the media people, and again headed for Baltimore.
After stopping in Rogers Forge to pick up my sad and bewildered
aunt, we returned to the funeral home. The news media, of
course, were there in force. I did not stop to comment; the oc-
casion was not appropriate. There were brief services for my
deceased brother, Roy. Callously, questions were shouted at me
by some reporters as the family moved to the cars. I ignored them,
feeling some anger at this tasteless intrusion on a very private
occasion.
At the cemetery, the media became even more aggressive,
trampling nearby graves to get into position for close observation
of the burial. As we left the graveside to move back to the
vehicles, there was a similar press rush and a gravestone was
knocked over. Then, while I was escorting my tearful aunt to the
car, I noticed the final indignity— a microphone on a long pole
was being held just over our heads to eavesdrop on our conversa-
tion. It was hardly the news media's finest hour.
 CHAPTER TWO

SALT AND SOME PEPPER

The primary purpose of this book is to examine in detail the

torrent of 1973 developments that culminated in the shocking
events just told. But for the reader to understand fully how the
second-ranking citizen of the United States could be so politically
weak that he was destroyed by uncorroborated accusations, the
background information that follows is necessary. Beyond this
chapter, the book will focus on matters related to the Agnew in-
vestigation.
As the facts unfold in the subsequent chapters, the reader may
well wonder why— equipped with such exact knowledge of the
weakness of the case against me— I did not persevere and stand
trial. Unfortunately, I did not then have access to the facts that
you are going to read. It took five years of diligent digging, and
the final resolution just two years ago of the cases of Hammerman,
Wolff, Green, and Matz, for me to find out the entire story. Nor
did I know in October 1973 that Richard Nixon had played me
as a pawn in the desperate game for his survival. Had I known
all these things, my decision to go quietly may well have been
otherwise.

It was February 9, 1973, exactly three months after an elabo-

rate celebration of my fifty-fourth birthday— insisted on, arranged,
and financed by I. Harold (Bud) Hammerman, who was then my
friend. Air Force Two cruised smoothly above the Pacific, bring-
ing me home from an official mission to Southeast Asia. Through
a few tufts of white clouds far below, the ocean reflected the clear
blue sky. My mood was equally serene, and I felt confident that
the future offered me bright promises of success.
Three weeks before, Richard M. Nixon had been inaugurated
for his second term in the White House, and I had been sworn in
22
 SALT AND SOME PEPPER 23

again as Vice-President in a Capitol ceremony that marked the

triumphant achievement of our new American majority. The Pres-
ident and I had earned a tremendous vote of confidence from the
American people in our victory over George McGovern and Sar-
gent Shriver, capturing forty-nine states and all the electoral votes
except those of Massachusetts, the District of Columbia, and one
vote in Virginia. We stood, virtually unchallenged, at a political
peak. Furthermore, the Paris peace agreement on January 23—
purporting to end the long and bloody war in Southeast Asia,
with South Vietnam still an independent nation— appeared to
have vindicated our long fight to achieve "peace with honor." At
least that is what the President had said, and in those days I be-
lieved in the President.
During the administration's internecine struggles over Vietnam,
it was generally accepted that I was the number-one hawk. I was
convinced that the President was right in his tough decision to
take strong action against the Communist forces, even at the risk
of touching off violent protest demonstrations from the antiwar
activists. I endorsed his refusal to accept a quick peace that
would have amounted to surrender; his incursion into Cambodia;
his decision to blockade Haiphong harbor and resume the bomb-
ing to check the enemy's Easter offensive in 1972, and his order
for the precision bombing in December 1972 that ultimately
forced Hanoi back to the bargaining table in Paris for the final
settlement. We had been tough, but— it is now evident from the
human rights abuses in Communist Indochina— not nearly tough
enough.
Soon after the accord was announced, the President sent me as
his personal emissary to the heads of eight Asian nations to assure
them that the United States would continue to provide them with
military and economic aid, and that we would remain a power in
the Pacific. First, at Saigon, I conveyed Mr. Nixon's personal as-
surance to a skeptical President Nguyen Van Thieu that until the
South Vietnamese people decided otherwise in a free election,
our government would continue to recognize his as the only legiti-
mate regime in South Vietnam; and that if the North Vietnamese
violated the pact, we would react against them with force.
Coming events would more than justify Thieu's skepticism as
the North Vietnamese forces later streamed south, hard on our
heels, and destroyed the demoralized remnants of South Viet-
24 GO QUIETLY or else

nam's army. In my judgment, the failure of the Nobel authorities

to revoke the peace prize awarded to the duplicitous Le Due Tho
has cheapened this once coveted award.
I knew that Thieu had accepted the peace treaty most reluc-
tantly, and only after Nixon had told him emphatically that we
would sign it whether he did or not. Our separate action would
have left him, without the essential help from the United States,
to carry on a futile fight against his Russian-supported enemy.
Gen. Alexander Haig, in Saigon as Nixon's representative, had
told Thieu in plain army language that the South Vietnamese
leader had to go along— or else. I did not know then how forceful
the general could be in delivering such an ultimatum.
I left a somewhat reassured but still uneasy President Thieu
and boarded Air Force Two, ostensibly for Thailand. Announcing
Thailand as the destination was a necessary deception: we
planned to stop in Cambodia if the tactical situation permitted.
Once we were airborne and had completed final checks through
secure communications, I decided to make the stop. I then in-
formed the traveling press. Most of them, despite their under-
standable antipathy to being misdirected by politicians, realized
why we had kept them in the dark so long.
There was a real reason to be careful. The Khmer Rouge were
only five miles from Phnom Penh, and the airport was already
under sporadic rocket attack. It was decided that we would make
a steep approach, land and deplane quickly, and that Air Force
Two would immediately take off again, circling out of range until
we were ready to be picked up at the completion of our mission.
Helicopter gunships were ready to take me and principal staff
members into the city. The rest went by armed motor convoy. As
my chopper took off, we narrowly escaped tragedy. The assistant
special agent in charge of my Secret Service detail, who had not
yet had a chance to buckle in, was partly thrown out of the craft
by a sudden sideways lurch of the aircraft. Fortunately, another
agent grabbed him and hauled him back to safety. The injury he
received in the struggle to climb back aboard required surgery
later.
The capital of Cambodia was then a beautiful city, notwith-
standing some war damage. We proceeded directly to the palace,
which was heavily guarded by troops with automatic rifles ready,
where I was met by General Lon Nol. I was shocked to see what
 SALT AND SOME PEPPER 25

a toll his recent stroke had taken physically. The robust man who
had received me in Phnom Penh thirty months before bore little
resemblance to the fragile, gray-faced officer who now required
assistance to stand.
Mentally, he had lost no acuity. He was grateful for this dem-
onstration ofUnited States support. I told Gen. Lon Nol that we
would continue sending him arms to assist his increasingly diffi-
cult effort to repel the Communist aggressors. I told him that I
was pleased to see Sirik Matak— an influential former opponent—
among those present, and suggested that he could answer some
of his critics by expanding the political base of his government—
by making more visible those former opponents who were now
united with him out of common fear of the Communists. Soon, I
knew. Congress would cut off the money for the United States
bombing of the Communists inside Cambodia; then it would be
impossible to save the poor people there from the brutality of the
Khmer Rouge savages, who would eventually conquer the coun-
try and kill at least a million of its inhabitants before being suc-
ceeded byLe Due Tho's equally brutal peace-prize pretties.
I brought Nixon's message of continued aid in my visits to
Thailand, Laos, Indonesia, Singapore, Malaysia, and the Philip-
pines. At Manila, I thanked President Marcos for his help in car-
ing for our prisoners of war, who were freed by the peace pact,
and hastening their return home. On the last day, Air Force Two
took off from Malaysia's capital, Kuala Lumpur, touched down
in Manila for my meeting with Marcos, and again in Honolulu,
and landed finally at the Marine Air Base at El Toro, California
—all in a single calendar day. Of course, the reason for the un-
usually long day was that we had flown eastward and crossed the
International Date Line. I remember remarking, "This is the
longest February ninth I ever saw— all the way from Kuala Lum-
pur to California.'^
The next day, after an overnight stay at Newport Beach, I
gave a detailed report to the President, who was vacationing at
the western "White House" at San Clemente. Later he told the
press: "The Vice-President's trip served a very important purpose
at this point in building the structure of peace, not only in Indo-
china but in the whole of Southeast Asia." Calling my mission a
success, he said: "What happens in Indochina affects Thailand,
Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore." Those words are equally
26 GO QUIETLY or else
true today and they point to a bleak future for our Asian friends.
I met with Mr. Nixon for an hour and a half, an unusually long
session for us. His cordiality, plus his keen interest in my mission,
gave me reason to hope that in our second term I could penetrate
the wall he kept around him, and we could become more of a
team than we had been in the first term. I had long desired to be
his close partner, but he preferred to work with a controlled staff.
I believe he had an inherent distrust of anyone who had an inde-
pendent political identity. Even so, I supported his policies loyally
—although I did not agree with them 100 percent.
While I praised him for refusing to withdraw unilaterally in
Southeast Asia, I wanted him to go all out and win the war. I
think he really wanted to knock out the North Vietnamese, but
he was afraid he could not maintain public support: the Soviet
Union would be encouraged to make other diversions, and
marching mobs in the streets of America would cause Congress
to cut off all funds for the war.
In criticizing President Kennedy for the indecision and bun-
gling that led to the Bay of Pigs disaster in Cuba, Mr. Nixon once
commented: "Whenever American prestige is thrown in the scale,
we should not start things in the world unless we are prepared to
finish them." That was precisely the problem in Vietnam. We
should not have been in that fight unless we intended to win.
We should have gone in with maximum non-nuclear power right
away and achieved a lasting victory.
At the National Security Council (N.S.C.) meetings, we never
discussed a knockout by heavy saturation bombing, such as was
done to German cities in World War II, but we did talk about the
possibility of destroying the dikes. That would have flooded large
areas and finished North Vietnam. Taking out the dikes was
rejected because it would have killed a lot of people through
flooding and famine. The administration doves were eloquently
concerned about the horrified editorials from the news media that
such action would bring, but taking out the dikes would have
won the war by striking at the heart of North's ability to sustain
the aggression. It would have saved the fives of all those thou-
sands of people whom the Communists later killed in South Viet-
nam, Laos, and Cambodia, and preserved the freedom of the
additional millions who are suffering now under the yoke of the
 SALT AND SOME PEPPER 27

tyrranies that masquerade as "people's democracies."

Perhaps it is unfair to criticize the failure of recent Presidents
to make authoritarian decisions that are cruel, ruthless, yet nec-
essary to our nation's survival. Things have changed substantially
since Harry Truman weighed the people of Hiroshima against the
sons of America and faced up to his responsibility. Lyndon John-
son recognized this when he advised me privately just before I
took office in 1969, "You may have an important office and a bully
pulpit, but don't take on the big news organizations. They come
out every day and you don't. Besides, they always have the last
word."
Although the country cries out for leadership, the President's
ability to lead effectively is being eroded by a popular obsession
against even temporary governmental secrecy. The news media
feel that it is their duty to discover by any means possible and
immediately reveal every action the President may be contem-
plating. The harm in this comes not only from premature dis-
closure but from the use of inaccurate sources. Public officials are
afraid to suggest that some limitations of the "public's right to
know" may be in the national interest.
It was a sad thing for me to see Nixon at the National Security
Council sessions, seated across the massive conference table with
a dove at each elbow— Bill Rogers on the right hand and Mel
Laird on the left. Rogers, the Secretary of State, and Laird, the
Secretary of Defense, are both able and patriotic Americans, but
they believed the war was already lost and they both had a fixed
idea of getting out of Vietnam as fast as possible. I believe Bill
Rogers is a genuine ideological dove— kind, compassionate and
naively trustful of his fellowman. His longtime friends in the
eastern liberal establishment knew him like a book and manipu-
lated him shamelessly. Laird was a different kettle of fish. Prag-
matic, evasive, with ice water in his veins, he was the ultimate
professional politician. He feared that the aggressive action
needed to win the war would enrage the Congress and split the
country. He asked only, "What is politically expedient?"
Every time Nixon leaned toward a forceful action against Com-
munist power, Rogers and Laird in effect would say, "Oh, you
can't do that, Mr. President, the Russians would misunderstand
it. We would be risking nuclear war." The shadow of the Russian
28 GO QUIETLY or else
bear inhibited a strong policy. Our military men knew how to win
in Vietnam
allowed to do without
it. nuclear involvement, but they weren't
We also were plagued by leaks from the N.S.C. sessions, almost
always from some dovish people on Kissinger's staff. The staflF
would prepare a series of options, from the most extreme on one
side to the most extreme on the other, all the way across the
spectrum from bombing to unilateral withdrawal. It was always
the extreme option that was leaked to show undue belligerence
or weakness. For instance, the news media might report that in-
formed sources close to the N.S.C. said that we were considering
unilateral withdrawal of all United States troops from Vietnam,
or, on the other hand, that we were discussing the use of tactical
nuclear weapons. Actually, the President went along with Laird's
idea of "Vietnamization." By this was meant the gradual building
up and training of South Vietnamese forces until they would be
able to carry the combat responsibility without our troop involve-
ment. That made a lot of sense, but it also required us to carry
on a strong war effort until the South Vietnamese could take over.
Vietnamization should have begun the moment President Ken-
nedy put our first American soldier into Vietnam.
Mr. Nixon's cabinet was split over whether he should take a soft
line in dealing with the "new mobilization" marchers who filled
the streets of Washington and other cities in the fall of 1969 with
their protests against the war. Henry Kissinger advocated a very
hard line, saying that if we backed off, the Soviets would decide
they could control our pohcies by influencing public opinion in
the United States. I also backed the President on his November
3 speech which exhorted the "Silent Majority" of Americans to
continue giving him their support so that he could govern despite
the mobs. The White House switchboard lit up with telephone
calls from people favoring his stand.
President Nixon said my Des Moines speech a few days later—
in which I chastised the television networks for slanting their
coverage against the administration— produced a wave of com-
mendation, too. For Pat Buchanan and me, the crafting and pol-
ishing ofthat speech was a labor of love. I believe the reaction to
my speech was even greater than the November 3 speecli, not
because I made it, but because the average American had been
fmstrated for so long about the proselytizing of some network
 SALT AND SOME PEPPER 29

commentators. The number of favorable responses was over-

whelming.
I remember how enraged I was when I saw on television a
gang of scruffy-looking characters proudly carrying a Viet Cong
flag down Pennsylvania Avenue, while a national network com-
mentator ran along beside them with his microphone deferen-
tially extended for whatever seditious statements they might
choose to make. Here was the same Viet Cong flag that was being
carried into battle against Old Glory, and these traitors were
being interviewed. It was an incredible thing to see the enemy
flag carried down the streets of Washington and the networks
treating the occasion as the display of a mere difference of opin-
ion. It appeared that the networks' executives had fallen for that
war-of-national-liberation line that the North Vietnamese Com-
munists were peddling. Well, time has shown it was no civil war.
"Big Minh," the Viet Cong hero in those days, told the London
Economist in 1978 that instead of taking the role he had expected
in the new government, he had been sent to a "reeducation cen-
ter." Big Minh, he said, made big mistake.
Suppose this had been World War II and the demonstrators
had been marching with a Nazi swastika banner. They would not
have evoked sympathy for their compassion, but would have been
justly condemned for being traitors to their country.
I was so proud of Nixon the day the troops went into the Cam-
bodian sanctuaries in the spring of 1970 that I stopped him in the
hall after he had announced it to the cabinet. "Mr. President," I
said, "I admire you for having the courage to make that tough
decision."
As Henry Kissinger said in his memoirs, it was the right deci-
sion. We would have been a lot better off— and so would the
Cambodians today— if we had stuck to a more mihtant course of
action to save them. It annoyed me to hear people complain
about our "invasion" of Cambodia. The truth is that the North
Vietnamese had invaded Cambodia with thousands of their
soldiers months before we did anything about it. The Cambodians
themselves have recently confirmed that to Western reporters.
Prince Norodom Sihanouk had quietly let us know that he would
like to have us come in there to suggest the North Vietnamese get
the hell out of his country.
Although the North Vietnamese have steadfastly denied being
30 GO QUIETLY or else
in Cambodia in 1970, that flimsy lie was ripped apart by the Pol
Pot government of Kampuchea, formerly the Khmer Rouge of
Cambodia. The Cambodian Khmer Rouge and the North Viet-
namese fought together in 1970 against the Lon Nol government
and the Americans, but have since become bitter enemies. In a
recent interview with an American correspondent, a Pol Pot
spokesman admitted that the North Vietnamese and Viet Cong
were already present in great numbers in Cambodia— he says two
million— when the Americans went into the sanctuaries in 1970
at President Nixon's direction. The American incursion was to
prevent attacks by the Communists from protected Cambodian
bases, but the celebrity-led left-wingers in the United States
labeled it an "invasion" of a helpless country and another exhibi-
tion of "American imperialism."
As a result of North Vietnam's final victory in 1975, the Khmer
Rouge inherited Cambodia and by published estimates, killed up
to a million people. The North Vietnamese have since deposed
the Pol Pot regime, but both Vietnam and Cambodia are still
racked with strife. The Vietnamese are fleeing their oppressed
country by the thousands, risking their lives in flimsy boats to
escape for no known destination. They seem to feel that any place
is better. The whole of Indochina has turned to communism;
Thailand is under the Red threat and Malaysia and Singapore
have to be very nervous.
Mr. Nixon has said the televised pictures of the suffering in
Vietnam caused demoralization on our home front and raised the
question of whether America would ever again be able to fight
an enemy abroad with unity and strength of purpose at home.
Under current conditions, I don't think we could. Since President
Carter has pardoned the draft evaders and deserters, it is improb-
able that we could draft a civilian army successfully now unless
there were a direct attack on the North American continent— and
the Communists are too smart to do that. They have no need for
direct confrontation. They will continue to add satellites by fi-
nancing and supporting "wars of national liberation" elsewhere.
If our government ever proposed to send United States forces into
such conflicts abroad, a high percentage of young people would
condemn the war as immoral and go away— figuring that the prec-
edent had been set by Vietnam and they could easily come ])ack
and be pardoned when it was all over. Also, I think the Soviet
 SALT AND SOME PEPPER 31

aggression would have to be a clear-cut attack on us before we

would respond with nuclear weapons. Would we fight for West-
ern Europe again? I have grave doubts.
Europe's fate will largely hinge upon the maintenance of an
obviously superior United States array of strategic nuclear weap-
ons. That is why, at N.S.C. meetings, I questioned the concessions
that ultimately were made in the Strategic Arms Limitation
Treaty (SALT I ), which Nixon signed with Leonid Brezhnev at
Moscow in May 1972.
I found myself in unspoken alliance with Adm. Thomas H.
Moorer, then chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and with most
of the other military people. At one meeting I recall, Gerard
Smith, our SALT I negotiator, was giving all the reasons why we
should accede to the Russians' demand that there be no on-site
inspections of weapons, because we had the capability to inspect
by satelHtes. Then the discussion moved to missile throw-weights
and how much more sophisticated our weapons were with
MIRV's (Multiple Independently-Targeted Reentry Vehicles),
and how, with a smaller throw-weight, one of our ICBM's, with
its high accuracy and multiple warheads, would produce even
better
Union. results than one of the much larger ICBM's of the Soviet
I usually kept my mouth shut in those meetings because Bob
Haldeman once told me, after I had participated perhaps too
enthusiastically, "The President does not like you to take an op-
posite view at a cabinet meeting, or say anything that can be
construed to be mildly not in accord with his thinking." In brief,
I was told to keep quiet. But at this session, after waiting in vain
for someone else to object, I said: "It doesn't make sense to me
to negotiate an agreement which leaves the Russians with a great
superiority in throw-weight. They are looking for an agreement
to freeze these categories, which will allow them to stop worrying
about numbers and put all their resources into developing their
own technology. When they have improved their technology to
the point that it is close to parity with ours, we are left with a
crippling inferiority."
Tom Moorer's facial expressions showed me that he was in total
agreement with me. I continued, "Furthermore, with regard to
the inspections, maybe we can inspect now, but when we are
frozen into the status quo and they devote all their energies to
32 GO QUIETLY or else

improving counter-surveillance, who is to say that ten years from

now we'll be able to see what they are deploying?" Then I added,
"Gentlemen, if two nations make an agreement to limit strategic
nuclear weapons, and they intend to carry out that agreement,
then neither should object to inspections to insure that the agree-
ment isbeing performed. The only conclusion you can come to is
that they're not going to play fair."
I was distressed about this. I could see that the military men
were in agreement with me. The doves looked at me as if I were
Attila the Hun. Gerry Smith said he didn't think we could get an
agreement if we insisted on on-site inspections. The President just
gave me a poker-player glance and someone raised another ques-
tion.
Looking back, I now believe that Mr. Nixon's disaffection with
me had its roots in my outspoken criticism at N.S.C. and cabinet
meetings. I felt that a Vice-President should contribute, not just
observe. Since I was given no chance to contribute in private, I
had to do it in front of the family. The President did not have the
inner confidence to take even implied criticism of his predeter-
mined decisions.
Today, my SALT reservations still seem valid. Why are we al-
ways looking at the arms control issue from the Russians' stand-
point? Why not look at it from ours? Instead, our press and the
liberal community carp at the defense proponents unceasingly,
saying we haven't been conciliatory, so gradually we soften our
position while the Soviets stay right where they are and win con-
cessions from us. It's a terrible thing. While the termites keep
gnawing away at the foundations, we do nothing.
Gradually, I learned it was better to keep my objections to
myself when I disagreed with Mr. Nixon's policies. When Bob
Haldeman told me that the President would appreciate my not
speaking up, I presumed that he was conveying a message from
the top. But I would have appreciated it much more if the Presi-
dent himself had called me over and said, "Look, if you have
something to say, let's talk about it privately. Don't say it at
meetings because there are leaks, and I don't want the adminis
tration to look divided." But he never did that.
Nothing can illustrate better Mr. Nixon's dislike of personal
confrontation and the lengths to which he would go to avoid it
than this strange progression of events: The President of the
 SALT AND SOME PEPPER 33

United States is always invited to the annual dinner of the Grid-

iron Club, a "fun" event run by prestigious news media people
for the purpose of roasting official Washington for the enjoyment
of everyone except the prime targets of their barbed humor. It
is generally conceded that the President of the United States,
being a prime target, does not particularly enjoy attending the
Gridiron dinner— unless his actions have pleased the media im-
mediately prior thereto. Richard Nixon was no exception to the
rule, and to human memory, had never pleased the media either
before or after their annual bash. So he did what Presidents al-
ways do in such straits. He decided to send his Vice-President,
and he directed Mr. Haldeman to take care of the matter. Mr.
Haldeman had one of his assistants notify my scheduler to rec-
ommend the Gridiron dinner. He did so and I said no. You see,
the rule also applies to Vice-Presidents, and my activities had
not endeared me to the media. Moreover I was thoroughly ticked
off about the treatment I had been getting at the hands of the
big media.
A few days later, my scheduler was back with a renewal of
the request, this time identifying its source. "The President would
like you to attend," he said. Now, I had good reason to suspect
that every presidential request conveyed by staff did not origi-
nate with the man himself, so again I declined.
Weeks passed and I heard no more. It was about three weeks
before the event, and I was giving a speech in Hawaii— an as-
signment which I made no effort to avoid— in fact, accepted with
alacrity. Art Sohmer came in and said that Bob Haldeman had
called and told him to tell me that the President definitely wanted
me to attend the accursed Gridiron dinner.
At this particular time, I was more miffed than usual about
the lack of personal contact with Mr. Nixon, and I decided that
I would not go unless he asked me himself. I directed Sohmer to
so inform Bob Haldeman. Three hours later, Bryce Harlow, White
House counselor— whom I admired greatly for his wit and de-
meanor—was on the phone. Again I declined, exhibiting a streak
of Greek stubbornness that has often landed me in trouble.
I returned to the capital. Four days later, on a Sunday, I
received a phone call from the President— very unusual. We chat-
ted for about ten minutes on a variety of subjects. He closed by
mentioning what a great job one of the cabinet had done on
34 GO QUIETLY or else
Meet the Press that day. Then he paused a moment and con-
tinued about how important TV was. He paused again. I said
it certainly was and that ended our conversation.
The following Monday afternoon, I was reviewing an economic
policy memorandum in my office when I was given a handwritten
letter from the President. With charming simplicity, he requested
me to attend the Gridiron dinner, allowing that it would be a
sacrifice but no more than Ike had demanded of him. He prom-
ised to go next year. Naturally, I went to the dinner. Unnaturally,
I had a marvelous time.
I really would have enjoyed serving in the vice-presidency
with Lyndon Johnson, because if anything had gone wrong,
probably he himself would have picked up the phone and said,
"Agnew, what the hell are you doing?" Or he would have said,
"I've got a hell of a problem. Come over here. I want to talk to
you about this."
Unfortunately, I could have no such man-to-man talk with
President Nixon. Absolutely none. I was never allowed to come
close enough to participate with him directly in any decision.
Every time I went to see him and raised a subject for discussion,
he would begin a rambling, time-consuming monologue. Then
finally the phone would ring or Haldeman would come in, and
there would be no time left for what I really had come to talk
about. He successfully avoided any subject he didn't want to be
pinned down on. He preferred keeping his decision-making
within a very small group. I was not of the inner circle.
I disagreed completely— and still do— with President Nixon's
initiative to "normalize" relations with the People's Republic of
China. The American people— against the will of the majority,
if the polls are correct— have been forced to go along with the
Carter administration's decision to repudiate our mutual defense
treaty with the free Chinese regime on Taiwan, and to give
Peking the diplomatic and economic muscle to seriously impair
the security and prosperity of the seventeen million people on
the island. This is a strange way to reward a loyal ally whose
hardworking and creative citizens have made their country a
model success story for the capitalistic free-enterprise system.
I presume that my firm opposition to the policy of cozying up
to Communist China was the main reason the White House froze
me out of the Nixon decisions in that area. In mid-1971, while I
 SALT AND SOME PEPPER 35

was making a goodwill trip around the world, some of Mr. Nix-
on's aides put out the word that I was sent out of the country so
as not to be in Henry Kissinger's way when he made his secret
journey to China— the journey which paved the way for the
President's visit there the following February. Then they com-
pounded the felony by not notifying me until after the story
broke in the press. I was in Kinshasa, then the capital of the
Congo (now Zaire), when the story broke. Mr. Nixon certainly
had no reason to believe that I would have leaked the story,
because he well knew I never leaked anything— although I had
access to much secret information through the National Security
Council and daily C.I.A. briefings. But some of his assistants were
aware of my sentiments about courting the Red Chinese, so they
left me out. 2.-^<F^^>^'?'?
I first began to feel isolated from the really important Nixon
decisions after our 1968 election victory. The press had been
bombarding me, portraying me as the neanderthal, gaffe-ridden
vice-presidential candidate. Propagandized by the constant pick-
ing of my travelling press contingent, many of whom were still
enraged that they hadn't predicted my selection as the candidate
for Vice-President, most of the senior Nixon staff believed I had
really made a mess of the campaign. I was the dumb rookie who
said the wrong things. I admit that I made mistakes, but so does
every national candidate. If the media people like what you stand
for they can be very forgiving, but if they are ideologically op-
posed, they harry you unmercifully. The staff should have re-
alized that the real thrust of their effort was to get to Mr. Nixon
(who was being very presidential and invulnerable ) through the
"new boy in school."
After the election, there appeared in the major press a spate
of cartoons suggesting that the President was having really seri-
ous difficulty deciding what to do with me. In one, I was a slaver-
ing dog. Mr. Nixon was furtively handing me out the back door
of the White House on a leash, saying, "Take him for a walk."
It was really vicious, but I was not unfamiliar with the bestial
barbs of the press, having once been likened by The Washington
Post to Caligula's horse.
Unfortunately, however, that image of callous, animal stupidity
permeated the beginning of our relationship. Some of the damage
36 GO QUIETLY or else
was repaired when I started building my own image and speak-
ing out against the radicals who were undermining our country.
Then the cartoonists magically transformed me from a stumbling,
bumbling incompetent into an evil, dangerous man. First I was
a clown, then a menace.
To the President's credit, he made an early effort to remedy
the situation. Shortly after the inauguration in 1969, I was given
an oflBce in the White House— Sherman Adams's old office. I
understand it became the office of Hamilton Jordan. It was one
of the best locations in the West Wing, just down the hall from
the Oval Office, but it proved impractical. The idea was that I
would use presidential staff with my own staff and interchange
them. This would require the staffs to work closely. Unfortunately,
there were tremendous frictions between the White House staff
and mine. I am told it has ever been thus.
As far as my cooperating with the White House staff to better
serve the President was concerned, I soon learned that every-
thing was run as a closed corporation. Haldeman and Ehrlichman
didn't tell me what they were doing. There was a lot of secrecy
and jealousy and vying for the President's attention among the
senior people. I finally got disgusted and started spending more
time with my own staff across the street in the Old Executive
Office Building. Bob Haldeman came to me and said they needed
more space in the West Wing; would I give up my office there,
since I rarely used it anyway? I said I would. The press made a
great deal out of the symbolism of my losing the White House
office, but I had no objections. If the President had picked up
the phone and asked me to come in and work with him, I would
gladly have stayed. But he never did. Our only interchanges came
at the staff level.

The antagonisms between my staff and the President's con-

tinued to build. His men did not like my top man. Art Sohmer;
they thought he was incompetent. Although Art had weaknesses,
he had strengths too; he knew how to handle people and he
knew more about politics than anyone on the White House side
of the road except perhaps Murray Chotiner and Bryce Harlow.
His weaknesses were in staff organization, managing the unbe-
lievable amount of paper the federal establishment generated,
and in handling the bureaucracy itself. But he was more than
adequately supported in those areas by Col. Mike Dunn, a bril-
 SALT AND SOME PEPPER 37

liant career military officer with impeccable educational creden-

tials. Mike became a Major General while in my service, and I
can testify that he earned the promotions.
During the 1970 campaign I spoke for Republican candidates
and defended the Nixon administration's policies all over the
country. It was a bitter campaign, during which the raucous
antiwar people were at the height of their frenetic activity. I
found that I got the blame for what the media chose to construe
as poor results. We did lose some House seats, but nowhere near
the number usually expected in an off year and less than the
Carter administration lost in 1978. We gained a few people in
the Senate. The press said we had poor results because I was so
divisive and had alienated the people. At that point, the Presi-
dent should have said: "That's ridiculous— we lost less than is
usually lost by the President's party in an off-year election, and
certainly less than we would have if the Vice-President had not
been out there fighting." But there was absolute silence from
the White House while all the criticism fell on my head.
I had been sent out on the point in 1970 and performed the
mission assigned exactly, and the attitude of Mr. Nixon's staff
was "Well, maybe he did commit excesses, but we won't criticize
our own Vice-President." Any active public defense of me, how-
ever, was lacking. It was then that I realized how expendable
the Vice-President was. Perhaps Mr. Nixon recalled having to do
those tough jobs himself for Ike, and had gotten the same silent
treatment, sometimes.
When we had a skull session at Key Biscayne, Florida, soon
after the 1972 election, there was a lot of tough talk going around
about cleaning house. In the upper echelons everybody's resig-
nation was requested, and the word went forth that people who
didn't do what the President wanted were going to have their
resignations accepted.
I thought: "As a Vice-President who worked hard and con-
tributed to our reelection by a huge majority, I will receive some
praise this time. I will get a very big, important assignment."
But my actual assignment made me shudder.
At that same Key Biscayne session, the President sat silently as
John Ehrlichman said: "We think you ought to spend most of
your time working on the Bicentennial."
"The Bicentennial?" I could hardly believe my ears.
38 GO QUIETLY or else

"Yes," they said. "It's the most important thing that has hap-
pened in a long time, and this should be your principal activity
—to organize the most terrific Bicentennial that can be staged in
1976. Use your prestige and leadership to bring out the principles
of Americanism."
"Gentlemen," I said, "I look upon the Bicentennial as a loser,
because everybody has his own ideas about it and nobody can
be the head of it without making a million enemies. A potential
presidential candidate doesn't want to make any enemies." So I
said, "No," and I made it stick.
Naturally, I was thinking ahead to 1976 because even my de-
tractors agreed that I was the front-runner for the Republican
presidential nomination. The early polls showed me way ahead
of all other potential rivals.
However, I realized that I ultimately faced a spirited fight
involving several other capable men. Ronald Reagan, John Con-
nally, and Nelson Rockefeller were probably the top three po-
tential contenders. Also, it had become obvious that Mr. Nixon,
who had personally chosen me as his running mate in 1968, had
cooled in his ardor and now directed his affections toward Con-
nally.
Indeed, the President had toyed with the idea of dropping me
in 1972 and substituting the former Governor of Texas, his new
favorite, who had become the star of the cabinet as secretary of
the treasury. Mr. Nixon made no secret of his admiration for
Connally. I admire John too. I think he's a very capable, energetic
man, a spellbinder as a speaker. He has great ability to project
himself; he has charisma. That charisma is what the President
admired most in him: Connally 's outgoing, captivating nature
was the antithesis of the indrawn Nixon personality. Mr. Nixon
looked to him for the qualities he did not find within himself.
At first, I didn't believe the reports that the President was
thinking of dumping me. He would often volunteer for my bene-
fit in the presence of others, "That's just a lot of political talk.
The biggest game in Washington is to create a fight l)etween the
President and the Vice-President."
However, I noticed that he became more remote towards me
as his attachment to Connally grew. In a crisis, or simply when
he wanted to expand on some subject to someone with whom
he felt comfortable, Connally would be called to the Oval Office
 SALT AND SOME PEPPER 39

or to the President's hideaway in the Old Executive Office Build-

ing. The press noticed immediately that Connally was being
brought into the inner circle while I was being kept out. I have
no hostility towards John Connally. But naturally a rivalry grew
up between us as the media tried to goad me into saying some-
thing against him. I remember that once, when I arrived late at
a luncheon, I told this joke: "Fm sorry to be late. I did my best
to hurry, but John Connally had me down at his ranch for a
barbecue, and it took me an hour and a half to cut myself down
from the spit."
As more and more rumors circulated about my being replaced
on the ticket and the President did nothing to quash them, I
started considering various possibilities for my future. I thought
of writing a column or doing a television interview series. I
knew, too, that the same left-wing Republicans who had fought
my nomination at Miami Beach were now urging Nixon to let
me go. But they did not want Connally; they despised him about
as much as they did me. They preferred a liberal from the eastern
establishment.
In the New Hampshire primary in March 1972, the youthful
liberals of the Ripon Society staged a write-in campaign for
Sen. Edward Brooke of Massachusetts as a replacement for me
on the ticket. But my friends promoted a last-minute counter-
drive for me, and I came in on top with 70 percent of the vote.
That equalled the result for the President, who polled 69 percent
in his race against the liberal California congressman, Paul Mc-
Closkey, and the conservative Ohio congressman, John Ashbrook.
As late as July, however, the "dump Agnew*' eflForts continued,
with Sen. Jacob Javits of New York playing a leading role.
Sen. Barry Goldwater of Arizona rebuked Javits and declared
that it was an "absolute necessity" to keep me in the vice-presi-
dency. "The Vice-President has built himself into a national
figure with courage enough to say things that should be said,"
Goldwater asserted. "Any suggestions about dumping him at this
time will alienate the Republican workers across this country.
Agnew's popularity equals that of the President."
Senator Goldwater spoke out July 19 and Mr. Nixon got the
message at once. Two days later, he called me into the Oval Office
and told me he had decided that I would again be his running
mate. I said: "Mr. President, I am dehghted to have the chance
40 GO QUIETLY or else
to serve again with you, and I will do everything I can to see
that we are reelected."
If he had not chosen me, I still would have campaigned for
him. I have always considered public office a service. The pomp
and flattery were never worth the sacrifice in personal privacy.
I can honestly say that I never developed a big head in the
vice-presidency. I made a strong bid to persuade Democrats and
Independents to repudiate the Democrats' presidential nominee.
Sen. George McGovern. "The Democratic party is controlled by
an ideological elite," I said, and added that McGovern s policies
were "repugnant" to the working people of the country. The
sweeping victory of the Nixon-Agnew ticket proved that was
true.
Then history began to repeat itself. Political power began to
make a subtle shift, away from the President and towards me,
because at the moment of his election to a second term, Mr.
Nixon became a lame duck. He no longer had a political future.
There would be no more exciting elections, no victories and no
gratitude for presidential support. Of course he still retained a
lot of power, but the politicians began instinctively turning away
from the President, who could not run again, and towards his
potential successor. As the front-runner, I got a lot of attention.
The President slowly, almost imperceptibly, lost the attention of
the party leaders as their attention focused on the selection of
the nominee for 1976.
While I was in Southeast Asia in late January 1973, the news-
papers carried stories saying that Mr. Nixon was already starting
to build up Connally. I knew those tales came out of the White
House, but I did not chew my fingernails and worry. I had my
loyal constitutents in the Silent Majority, and I expected they
would have the final word in the primaries and in the convention
that would choose the Republicans' next presidential nominee.
I also knew that I was completely in the clear on the Watergate
scandal. Having been frozen out of the inner circle at the White
House, I knew absolutely nothing about Watergate and nobody
ever claimed I was tainted by it.
I never dreamed that both Connally and I would become the
verbal targets of political assassins who were determined to ruin
us both. I received the first hint of my own impending disaster
 SALT AND SOME PEPPER 41

while I was at Newport Beach, waiting to confer with the Presi-

dent after my trip to Southeast Asia.
On February 3, 1973, my attorney, George White, telephoned
me from Maryland. He was extremely agitated. His voice was
strained, and he sounded like a man under tremendous pressure.
He said he had to speak to me immediately about a matter that
was too dangerous to discuss over the telephone. I agreed that
he should fly out at once and tell me the whole story.
 CHAPTER THREE
THESE GUYS ARE DESPERATE

George White told me an incredible tale— of a federal investi-

gation in Maryland that threatened to involve me.
He said that Lester Matz, a professional engineer from Balti-
more County, who had built a lucrative practice from govern-
ment work in Maryland, and Jerome B. Wolff, who had been
one of my trusted advisers on technical matters since Baltimore
County days, and whom I had named chairman of the State
Roads Commission when I was Governor of Maryland, were
making veiled threats against me that bordered on blackmail.
They both had been targeted in the initial Baltimore County
phase of a widespread federal investigation. The probe had be-
gun after anonymous tips to the Internal Revenue Service that
certain engineering firms and contractors had paid kickbacks to
political figures in Maryland, in return for contracts on highway
projects and other construction work.
According to published reports, enough information was
gathered through wiretaps to involve Matz's firm and others in
payments to William E. Fornoff, who was then serving as County
Executive Dale Anderson's principal assistant, and who had
served me in the same capacity. On January 25, a county archi-
tect named Paul Gaudreau admitted to the federal prosecutors
that he had been making payments to Fornoff. It is significant
to note that Gaudreau also testified that he had made no such
payments to Fornoff or to anyone else during the time that I was
county executive.
Over and over again Gaudreau said he never gave me a dime.
The probe widened, and other engineers implicated Jerry Wolff
and Lester Matz. The prosecutors panicked Wolff and Matz, who
by Wolff's own admission had been engaged in illegal activities
together since the 1950's. As Russell T. Baker, Jr., one of the
42
 THESE GUYS ARE DESPERATE 43

prosecutors, bragged to reporters, he would call up a suspected

engineer and ask if he had a criminal lawyer. Then he would
advise the subject that he could be in trouble so he'd better get
one and have him get in touch with the U.S. Attorney's office.
It was also standard practice for a subpoena server to say:
"Here's your subpoena. I want you to know you're in a hell of
a lot of trouble."
When a witness came in for an interview with the prosecutors,
they stimulated his natural uneasiness by a continuation of the
same cold, hostile attitude. His answers were received with skep-
ticism. There were frequent reminders that disgrace and jail
were the penalties of perjury. The whole idea was to keep the
witness frightened and fully aware of what it would be like to be
a member of the prison population. All this was standard op-
erating procedure for the Baltimore prosecutors, whom the media
have
White calledtold"bold youngMatz
me that idealists."
and Wolff had come in to see him
while I was in Asia; that they were frantic with worry; and that
they had made some very transparent threats against me, alleg-
ing they were in terrible trouble and they expected me to bail
them out of it. They wanted me to use my influence as Vice-
President to make the federal government stop investigating
them. If I refused, they may have to say things that would be
very embarrassing to me.
"In what way?" I asked.
"They
said. will say they made kickback payments to you," White

"That's certainly not true," I retorted. "In the past, they have
made campaign contributions, but those certainly weren't kick-
backs; the money didn't go to me personally."
White interrogated me closely. "This is very serious," he said.
"I want you to level with me about it."
"George, I am leveling with you about it," I said, becoming
indignant. "There is just nothing to this. They are apparently in
trouble, and they are trying to put the heat on me to extricate
them, but I can't do anything for them."
Matz and Wolff were close friends who lived within a few
blocks of each other in Baltimore County. I am sure that they
had been conferring with each other and asking, "How do we
get out of this bind?" They decided to carry their appeals and
44 GO QUIETLY or else

threats to George White. They frightened him and he was sup-

posed to frighten me into rescuing them.
The prosecutor's records indicate Wolff told them that he and
Matz had made "a spirited presentation" to White and warned
him that I was "in imminent danger of being embarrassed, or
worse" unless I interceded for them.
The federal agents served subpoenas on the consulting engi-
neering firm of Matz, Childs and Associates, Inc., calling upon
the company to produce its records. Matz and his partner, John
Childs, were alarmed because they feared the inquiry would
reveal a long-existing pattern of bonuses kicked back by em-
ployees to Matz, who then would use the cash in any way he
pleased. Matz claimed a large part of it went to Maryland politi-
cians to buy their influence.
Lester Matz did everything possible to create the impression
that he was a close friend of mine. He apparently told the
prosecutors that we celebrated milestone family vacations to-
gether. This is not true. He did make contributions to my cam-
paign for governor, and he constantly sought favors by cultivating
me.

However, we were never "friends," only acquaintances in a

business-political sense. I have been inside his home once and
that was an accidental thing. I had attended a tennis party at
Jerome Wolff's house and, at Wolff's suggestion, I walked over
to see Matz, who lived about two blocks away. That was all.
Matz has never been in my home. I may have met with him
seven or eight times. When someone is contributing to your cam-
paigns, ofcourse you have to meet him on a few occasions.
Matz sought to show our friendship by noting that we both
owned condominiums on St. Croix in the Virgin Islands. But I
had only a small equity in mine. I bought it because J. Walter
Jones, a close friend and one of my campaign fund-raisers, had
suggested it was a good investment. Unfortunately for me, a
wave of terrorism made it the opposite, and I sold at a loss. St.
Croix was a beautiful place, with a fine pul)lic golf course. I
didn't learn until later that Matz had a condominium there, too.
White told me that Matz offered to hire him as his lawyer for
a retainer of a thousand dollars a month when the federal in-
vestigation began in Baltimore County. White then went to
U.S. Attorney Beall about this and said he was worried about a
 THESE GUYS ARE DESPERATE 45

possible conflict of interest because of his close association with

me. Beall replied that White would have no conflict of interest
in representing Matz because the inquiry had nothing whatever
to do with me.
White expressed concern that certain newspapers, because of
their tremendous interest in "getting back" at me for my criti-
cisms of the media, would try to discredit me through innuendo,
linking me to the case. Beall said he and his assistants shared
that apprehension about unfair publicity, and they were doing
all that was humanly possible to protect the secrecy of their in-
quiry and to avoid any unfair comment about me.
Justice Department records show that on February 6, three
days before White's telephone call to me, Beall met with Attorney
General Richard Kleindienst and reported having "afiirmative
firsthand evidence that kickbacks were paid by architects and
engineers to Baltimore County oflBcials." But Beall specifically
said he had no information that any such practices were in effect
during my term as County Executive; therefore, rumors linking
me to the case were all false.
Nevertheless, White reported to me that Matz and Wolff were
threatening to implicate me. He expressed great fear that their
threats could be extremely harmful to me; he knew that an hon-
est man could be ruined by lies. I said I could not stop the
investigation and I would not do so if I had the power. Further-
more, my conscience was clear. I knew that although some busi-
nessmen had made political contributions to my campaigns, I
had taken no payoffs.
My friend, J. Walter Jones, a former Towson banker and real
estate developer, has confirmed White's story about the black-
mail threats against me. Jones said that while he was cruising
on his yacht in Florida in late January 1973, he received an
urgent message from my lawyer saying that Matz had warned
White to have the Vice-President stop the Maryland investiga-
tion.
"Matz was completely convinced that the Vice-President could,
in fact, stop it and would do so if enough pressure was put on
him," Jones later said. "I must confess I took it rather lightly. I
thought Matz wouldn't dare come out with blatant lies about
the Vice-President of the United States. I didn't realize how
terribly frightened Matz was, combined with how badly the
46 GO QUIETLY or else

prosecutors wanted to *get' Agnew. Matz told me they had wire-

taps on his phone and that's how they got the information against
him. They had him cold."
Matz and Childs were in trouble because they paid fake bo-
nuses to some of their employees. The employees were allowed
to keep only enough of the bonuses to pay the increases in their
personal income taxes that the bonuses caused. They had to kick
back all the rest to Matz and Childs. Since Matz and Childs had
not paid taxes on this company income, the I.R.S. had a solid
tax evasion case against them.
"I have long suspected that Matz extorted cash payments
from employees, developers and others with the story that he
was paying ofiF various public officials in order to get favors,"
Jones said. "Matz actually created engineering problems and then
advised his clients that he could settle them by making cash
payoffs. It is my belief that Matz kept most of the cash, himself.
This would explain the large amount of cash he carried around
with him at all times. Matz invariably carried a wad of hundred
dollar bills. He spent large amounts on diamonds, furs and travel
with various girl friends. There was never a question in his mind
that Agnew could have stopped the investigation. He later dis-
played a great hatred for Agnew and for me because Agnew
refused to help him."
When Jones returned from his Florida vacation in early 1973,
Wolff also pleaded with him for help. Wolff said, *'The prosecu-
tors are not interested in me. They want the Vice-President."
By that time, Matz and Wolff were desperate. They were
rabbits, running for cover. They would do anything to escape
accountability for their acts.
I was amazed to learn that Jerry Wolff was threatening to im-
plicate me in his financial mess. I felt as though I had been
stabbed in the back by a trusted friend. I was hurt, personally,
because I admired him as a very bright engineer, and I had
done everything I could to help him, all the way back to the
days when I was the Baltimore County Executive.
Wolff had worked for Baltimore County before my time there.
He is one of the most talented people I have ever met in govern-
ment. Both an engineer and lawyer, extremely quick and able,
he could meet with a group of people and bring them to a con-
sensus to settle difficult questions. He also had the knack of
 THESE GUYS ARE DESPERATE 47

simplifying technical terms so that a busy executive could grasp

the roots of an issue quickly and explain it to his constituency.
When I was County Executive, we had a prominent citizens'
committee, chaired by Samuel Hecht of the department store
chain; this was an unpaid private group which advised me on
budget and development priorities, as well as suggested new
ways of doing things. I was particularly interested in guiding the
county's rapid growth in the right way to keep its industrial
base moving, but away from residential areas.
I admired Jerry WolfFs intellect, wit, and the way he was able
to calm irate taxpayers. He was an absolutely charming man, but
he always seemed in desperate trouble for money. He had had
an unhappy marriage and his first wife had tried to extract the
last pound of flesh from him in their divorce settlement. Never-
theless, Jerry lived like a millionaire. He had an expensive home
with a swimming pool and a tennis court; he lived a Cadillac
existence on a Volkswagen income. He spent money lavishly; in
his statement to the prosecutors, he admitted having illegal
money from several sources which he did not reveal— and which
the prosecutors apparently never bothered to investigate. Obvi-
ously, they were not interested in prosecuting Wolff on these
matters.
After I became Vice-President, I asked Jerry to leave the State
Roads Commission and join my top staff as science and technical
adviser. He accompanied me to Washington and proved very
valuable, particularly in matters involving the National Aero-
nautics and Space Council, for which I had responsibility. In
April 1970, Wolff told me that he could no longer manage on
government pay. He said he was going to reenter engineering
practice, but would very much appreciate being retained as a
consultant to the Marine Council on a per diem basis, as he was
in trouble financially. I agreed to retain him at a rate of one
hundred dollars per day.
In nearly every assessment of the "evidence" against me that I
have read, Jerome Wolff's notes and testimony are emphasized.
The notes about engineering jobs awarded by Wolff as chairman
of the State Roads Commission during my time as governor are
always referred to as "documentary evidence" or "documentary
corroboration." I am amazed that no investigative reporter has
examined the Wolff statement objectively enough to see that it
48 GO QUIETLY or else
gives not a scintilla of persuasive evidence against me.
Wolff has never mentioned making any payments to me other
than two legal campaign contributions. As an employee on a per
diem, he would have been quite vulnerable to a kickback request,
had I been as venal as the prosecutors tried to depict me. Just
before the 1972 election, Wolff came into my office and said,
"I'm not a rich man, but I want you to have this five hundred
dollars because you've been very good to me." I took the money
and turned it in to the campaign. I remember being very touched
by his sincerity and loyalty.
Anyone reading Wolff's statement carefully will see he states
unequivocally that I never asked him for either campaign con-
tributions or payments of any type. At one point, he states he
offered cash from his friends, but I had said I had enough cash.
He further states that he has never made an illegal payment to
me. In spite of this, I can point to hundreds of news stories that
claim Wolff paid me off and passed a lie detector test that he
had paid me off.** I now have the F.B.I, report of the polygraph
test on Wolff. It states that he volunteered the fact that I had
never asked him for any money and further, the polygraph report
states Wolff said he has never personally given me any money.
Now, about Wolff's so-called "corroboration" of the others who
testified against me: it consists only of his suspicions, or what
Matz and others told him. You cannot corroborate the testimony
of a witness— especially a witness whose statements are gaining
him immunity— with someone's repetition of that witness's own
self-serving statements. Wolff stated he knew I was being paid off
because Matz told him so, or some one else told him so, or be-
cause he "inferred" or "had an awareness" that I was. Nowhere
in Jerry Wolff's testimony or records is there any direct evidence
to corroborate a payoff— no statements by me, no witnessing of
money changing hands or even being acknowledged— nothing.
Also, Matz said under polygraph examination that I never asked
* Typical of these stories is a Time Magazine report that was released early
and picked up by hundreds of newspapers, including The Washington Star.
Quoting Time as the source, the Star said, "J^^^^i^ Wolff, a key witness
against Vice-President Agnew, in an investigation of an alleged kickback
scandal, 'told the truth about delivering funds extorted from contractors to
Agnew,' according to a lie detector test." The Baltimore Evening Sun also
used the Time misinformation under the banner headline, "Lie Test Re-
portedly Passed by Former Aide of Agnew."
 THESE GUYS ARE DESPERATE 49

him for money. What is clear from the records of the case is that
Wolff, Matz and others engaged for a long time in illegal under-
takings that did not concern me, and that they were in fact co-
conspirators oflong experience. Yet, the prosecutors were willing
to believe them as long as the Vice-President's hide was nailed to
the wall. They were well paid for their "evidence.'' In spite of
their admitted crimes, neither Wolff, nor Matz, nor Hammerman
has been convicted or will be convicted of any crime connected
with the Maryland kickback cases. This is not from lack of evi-
dence, but from lack of prosecution. And the prosecutors still
maintain that no one was given immunity.
Wolff appealed to me to save him when the U.S. Attorney's
office first began tightening the screws on him. In a net-worth
investigation, they found he had money in safe-deposit boxes, and
they could document large expenditures of cash that he could
not explain. Thousands of dollars which he spent or secreted
apparently came from the mysterious illicit deals he mentioned
in his statement. He didn't dare report the illegal income, so
they had him in an impossible position.
Matz and Wolff are both very nervous and high-strung people.
As their troubles mounted, George White reported to me, they
were almost going out of their minds. They looked as though they
weren't sleeping; they stuttered; they wandered around aimlessly,
according to White, and their close friends reported they were
talking about committing suicide. Matz, who always told every-
one his business anyway, was making dark hints about my in-
volvement that began to circulate in Baltimore. Moreover, I was
told that Russell T. Baker, Jr., one of the "Gang of Four" prosecu-
tors, was bragging at a Washington cocktail party that I was in
real trouble.*
I firmly resolved that despite their threats and pleas, I would
never allow Matz and Wolff to blackmail me. Upon returning
to Washington from my meeting with the President in Cali-
fornia, Ibegan my own inquiries into the Maryland case. On
February 13, I had breakfast with Attorney General Richard
Kleindienst, and expressed my concern that the investigation
could be used to smear me, although I was innocent. I warned

* The prosecutorial team in Baltimore consisted of George Beall, Bamet

Skolnik, Russell T. Baker, Jr., and Ronald Liebman.
50 GO QUIETLY or else

him that poUtically active left-wing Democrats on the stafiF of

U.S. Attorney Beall might have marked me as their ultimate
target. I specifically mentioned Assistant U.S. Attorney Barnet
Skolnik, who had served as an aide to Edmund Muskie during
the Maine Senator's unsuccessful campaign for the 1972 Demo-
cratic presidential nomination.
There was no doubt that the young lawyers in the prosecutor's
office were ideologically hostile to me, especially after my hard-
line campaigning against the anti- Vietnam crowd in 1970. Skol-
nik, who delighted in calling himself a radical, was publicly
dismayed that he had been forced to prosecute the Catonsville
Nine, a group of dissidents who had broken into a Baltimore
County draft office and poured blood on the records. His heart
really hadn't been in that case. Russell T. Baker, Jr., who had
talked about me indiscreetly at a cocktail party, had been with
the Peace Corps in Africa. Their personal animus against me
made them go far beyond propriety in developing the case. In
their eyes, I was a 'l^ad man." They were out to get me.
Beall, a Republican, protested to me that his inquiry was non-
partisan and without political motivations. Justice Department
records show that Kleindienst called Beall, questioned him about
Skolnik's performance in Democratic partisan politics, and sug-
gested that Skolnik assume a lower profile. Beall agreed to
have his zealous young Democrat "stay in the background if
that would eliminate some of the gossip circulating in Wash-
ington." In fact, however, I know of nothing Beall ever did to
curb his eager assistant. Skolnik later went on to other prey—
for a time being involved in prosecuting another prominent
conservative, former F.B.I, chief L. Patrick Gray III. Skolnik left
that job unfinished in March 1979 because, he said, "it didn't
pay enough money."
I also spoke to the U. S. Attorney's brother, Sen. Glenn
Beall, Jr., of Maryland, and told him, "Look; these people are
out to destroy me, politically." He said he understood and in-
dicated some worry about it. "But," he said, "George is very
independent. He doesn't like me to talk to him about anything
going on in the U. S. Attorney's office." One wonders if that
prohibition continued during the time when Senator Beall was
being scrutinized for accepting $185,000 in secret campaign funds
from the notorious "Townhouse" operation. Herbert Kalmbach
 THESE GUYS ARE DESPERATE 51

went to jail for his part in that operation, but the special
prosecutor's office in Washington refused to do anything about
the senators who received the money, claiming that the Justice
Department should look into the matter. According to The Wall
Street Journal, that meant that Glenn Beall's fate was largely
up to George Beall, and, continued the Journal, "U. S. Attorney
Beall doesn't intend to do anything about Senator Beall." The
last observation on the subject in the Wall Street Journal article
is as follows: "Moral: It can be more blessed to receive than to
give, and it helps to have a brother who's a U. S. Attorney."
I also informed the President about the Maryland investigation,
and I warned him that attempts were being made to implicate
me in fund-raising abuses. "Some prosecutors in Baltimore are
trying to hook me up to some serious violations," I said. "I think
they are trying to embarrass the administration."
"They're always trying to do that," Mr. Nixon replied. "Don't
worry about it. There's not going to be any problem." He brushed
it off. I don't think he took it seriously.
Wolff has said that in late February or early March, he sent
me a letter pleading for my help to "limit or terminate the in-
vestigation" ofhis financial affairs. I remember receiving such
a letter, hand-delivered by I. H. (Bud) Hammerman H, the
millionaire Baltimore real estate promoter who was active in my
political inner circle and who had raised a considerable amount
of campaign money for me.
The letter was a cry of anguish with an undertone of threats.
In essence, Wolff said, "I'm in terrible trouble. I need help. I'm
getting desperate, and I don't know what I'm going to do. If I
go in and cooperate with the prosecutors, it may save me— but
it will be very bad for a lot of people. Will you please help me?"
That was the gist of it, but not the exact quotation.
I looked at the letter and told Hammerman, "Bud, I'm terribly
disturbed by Jerry's problems, but I wish I hadn't even seen this
letter." I didn't want to be connected with the troubles of Wolff
and Matz in any way. The Watergate situation had made me very
conscious of how easy it was for someone to accuse a public
figure of obstructing justice. Certainly, I didn't want to get in-
volved in covering up anybody's troubles with the law.
"Well, what do I tell him?" Hammerman demanded.
"You can't tell him anything," I replied.
52 GO QUIETLY or else

"You Ve got to do something to stop this thing," Hammerman

insisted.
"There's nothing I can do to stop it," I retorted. "I could easily
be charged with obstructing justice."
"But Jerry's going crazy," continued Hammerman. "He's not
well— not responsible for his actions, and he's going to involve
a lot of people."
"Bud, I'd do anything possible to help Jerry, but what he's
asking just cannot be done," I replied. We left the matter there
with Hammerman being far from satisfied.
Based on a conversation with Hammerman Wolff later told

the prosecutors: "Mr. Agnew was quite upset by the letter, but
he did not give Hammerman any assurances that anything could
be done." On that point, Wolff is correct.
Bud Hammerman was very much aware of his vulnerability
in the Baltimore County investigation long before I ever heard
of it. He was a close friend of Bill Fornoff and had been involved
in politico-business with Lester Matz and Jerry Wolff since the
middle 1950's. Moreover, Hammerman had worked closely with
my lawyer and campaign manager, George White, from the early
days of my gubernatorial run, so he was fully informed from
several sources when the dominoes began to collapse.
Between late February and late August, when Hammerman
finally abandoned his facade of friendship to me, he visited me
quite a few times to report on the status of the investigation as
revealed to him by the Baltimore County grapevine. He was ter-
ribly troubled about Wolff's mental condition, and I knew that his
worries went beyond Wolff's health and well-being.
It would be dishonest for me to say that I was completely
naive about the political realities of fund-raising. Like most
politicians, I knew we had to have the campaign money, and I
knew that it came mainly from people who made money out of
being politically "in." It was a wise policy for a candidate or
officeholder to isolate himself as much as possible from the
political collection process, but it wasn't always possible— par-
ticularly at the county level. The contributor always want(»d to
give the money to you personally so he was sure that you knew
he was helping you. And he usually gave it in cash, for three
reasons. First, he was giving to both parties, playing both sides
of the street and hedging his bets, so he wanted no records made.
 THESE GUYS ARE DESPERATE 53

Second, he probably had not paid taxes on the cash; and third,
he knew that in every campaign there was a great need for
"walking around money," the legal tender for paid election-day
workers and for other cash needs that did not look quite right
on a detailed election expenditure report.
At the gubernatorial level, the collection of funds was entrusted
to a few close political allies. Bud Hammerman was one of those
who did this for me. I asked for no details because I wanted to
be insulated from a process which always has gray overtones
as to legality. Certainly, this attitude was wrong but it was, and
still is, a way of life in politics. It is easy for a senator or a state
legislator to be shocked at such impropriety. But the legislative
branch does not have to finance the ticket. That responsibility has
always rested with the top executive candidate— the governor,
or mayor, or county executive— because the executive branch
controls the patronage plums and the patronage plums are an
incentive for contributions.
So when Hammerman began to sweat about Wolff, I had a
good idea why. I was cognizant that Bud was in close contact
with Jerry Wolff about engineering awards, and that he was
keeping tabs on which friends were being rewarded for their
loyalty. I was also generally aware that these friends would be
the source
know of future campaign
the details. financing. But I didn't want to
There was something else. I suspected that Hammerman was
giving Wolff money. While this was clearly wrong, I dismissed it
from my mind by rationalizing that Hammerman was a million-
aire and that he and Wolff had, past and present, many business
ventures together. It wasn't, I convinced myself, any of my
affair if Bud wanted to reward Jerry. Again, I know this was
wrong, but it was the way I looked at it then. I never came to an
active confrontation with my conscience because, as Wolff has
testified, he and I never discussed the subject.
So during his visits. Hammerman would seek assurances from
me that somehow the investigation could be halted. He would
warn me that people in the prosecutor's office wanted my scalp,
and were tempting Matz and Wolff to implicate me. He kept
telling me, "These guys are desperate; I don't know what they
will say." But in spite of the alarm bells that were being rung by
Hammerman and George White, I never put any pressure on
54 GO QUIETLY or else

anyone to stop the investigation. I told Hammerman once, "Look,

Bud, Watergate guarantees that even the slightest action on my
part would be called a cover-up."
On April 12, six employees of Matz, Childs were called be-
fore the Baltimore grand jury and compelled to testify under
"use immunity" imposed by a federal judge. Through this pro-
cedure, awitness can be forced to answer any question, with the
assurance that anything he says cannot be used against him in a
later criminal trial. In other words, he cannot incriminate himself,
so his right to refuse to testify under the protection of the Fifth
Amendment is abrogated. Though "use immunity" does not
guarantee that he will not be prosecuted on the basis of evidence
from other sources, it for all practical purposes assures "small
fish" that they are oflF the hook. However, uncooperative "bigger
fish" can have "use immunity" forced on them to catch still
bigger fish, yet still be prosecuted by external evidence or for
perjury if their stories do not jibe with the prosecutor's thesis. In
practical effect, "use immunity" conferred as a reward by a
prosecutor can be a tacit signal of total immunity; whereas "use
immunity" forced on an unwilling witness is no protection against
prosecution if the prosecutor can obtain evidence against him
from another source.
The Matz, Childs officials admitted that they had received
bonuses and had handed the money back after deducting what-
ever taxes they would have to pay on it. They were told that
Matz would use it to pay off certain politicians, or for campaign
contributions; but they had no actual knowledge of the eventual
disposition of the money. Since the bonuses had been deducted
as business expenses from the coi*porate income taxes, Matz and
Childs were certain to face charges of income tax evasion.
Matz became even more frantic. He had to show where all
that money had gone. I had been told by several people that he
was a big spender who often went to ski resorts in Colorado and
beaches in the Caribbean. The word was that he was frequently
accompanied on these junkets by politicians and bureaucrats
whom he entertained to promote his business. Also, Matz had the
reputation of being very lavish with gifts, although he never
made any gifts to me. Now he was facing the need to explain
where he had spent thousands of dollars. The prosecutors were
not interested in hearing about Anderson or Joseph Alton (at
 THESE GUYS ARE DESPERATE 55

that time County Executive of Anne Arundel County, Maryland ),

because they thought they already had enough external evidence
to prosecute them. So the only thing for Matz to do to save his
skin was, in prosecutorial parlance, to "trade up" and say the
money had gone to me.
I had no idea how far he would go in his eflForts to save himself
by ruining me. But I did not have long to wait before I found
out the full extent of his perfidy.
 CHAPTER FOUR

WHO WOULD BELIEVE IT?

From the moment Lester Matz and Jerry WoIflF received the
ominous warning that they should retain criminal lawyers, the
panic of each fed on that of the other. Ruthlessly and relentlessly,
the prosecutors applied the pressure. Wolff and Matz would
surely face prison unless they could answer a lot of troubling
questions about untaxed money and net-worth bulges. In late
April, I learned from J. Walter Jones just how frantically Matz
was trying to manufacture a solution to his difficulties.
Jones related this account of events: Matz came to the Chesa-
peake National Bank in Towson, the county seat of Baltimore
County, one day when Jones was presiding over an executive
meeting as chairman of the board of directors. Matz insisted
that Jones come out of the bank and meet him in his car be-
cause, he said, "I don't want to talk anywhere we might be
So the two men drove around in the car. Matz said he was
bugged."
in trouble because his own engineers had told the grand jury
they had kicked back their bonuses to him. He claimed he had
given the money as campaign contributions and could account
for all of it except ten thousand dollars.
Jones said, "Lester, it's no problem at all. I've got a record of
every penny you contributed to us, and I'll make you a list."
But that was not enough. Matz wanted the banker to say that
Matz had given him the extra ten thousand dollars as a political
gift, although he really had not. Jones refused.
Matz warned Jones emphatically that he must persuade me to
have the investigation against him quashed— otherwise, I would
be incriminated in it, too. Jones said he did his l)est to calm
Matz, recognizing that Matz was not in control of himself and
was capable of doing something foolish.
56
 WHO WOULD BELIEVE IT? 57

A few days later, Matz returned to the Towson bank. He

appeared extremely nervous. His face was flushed and he said
he could not sleep at night for worrying— even sedatives did not
help.
Matz told Jones he was being heavily pressured by his lawyer,
Joseph H. H. Kaplan, to go to the prosecutors and tell them, "I
made illegal contributions to Agnew."
Jones had been shocked. "That can't be true," he said. "Who
would believe it?"
"It's not a question of who will believe it," Matz retorted. "If
I make the statement, that will destroy Agnew."
"You need people to back you up on things like that," Jones
said.
"iVe got people who will back me up," Matz replied. Then he
stressed his warning: "If Agnew does not stop this investigation,
he will find himself in deep trouble."
At this point, Jones recalled, "Matz literally fell apart, angrily
shouting like a madman."
Jones became indignant and declared: "I've had enough of
this abuse from you. From this point on, if you have anything to
say to me, I'll talk to your lawyer. I'm going to give him a list of
the contributions you gave me, but I won't make up any."
So Jones went to one of Matz's lawyers, Arnold Weiner,
gave him the list and said: "Lester wants me to say there is ten
thousand dollars additional he contributed but it didn't get
written down. That just didn't happen."
Weiner replied, "All you can say is the truth."
When I learned of Matz's hysterical threats to impHcate me
in his mess, I decided to seek help from the White House. I gave
Bob Haldeman a complete summary of the Maryland problem,
assured him of my own innocence, but expressed concern that I
could, nevertheless, be seriously harmed by false charges. I sug-
gested that given the way the big media were going after the
Watergate matter, we could expect no restraint or objectivity on
their part. They would have a field day reporting every wild
rumor that surfaced and would apply all their old prejudices
against the administration— particularly against me, because of
my speeches in Des Moines and the South against media excesses.
I warned Haldeman the President would be attacked on another
front.
58 GO QUIETLY or else
I asked if someone from the White House would alert Sen.

Glenn Beall, the U. S. Attorney's brother, that political opponents

would try to embarrass the administration by doing everything
possible to involve me in the case. At that time, I did not know
the depth of George BealFs personal hostility towards me. I knew
we had disagreed politically on key issues, but after all, I had
cleared his appointment as U. S. Attorney— an appointment I
could have blocked easily.
Briefed by Haldeman, Mr. Nixon later commented on this in
his Memoirs: "I was very concerned at the prospect of Agnew's
being dragged through the mud unfairly, but in view of all the
other problems and our strained relations with Capitol Hill, I
did not see how we could do anything to help him. In fact, the
climate was such that anything we did to try to help might
boomerang and be made to appear that we were trying to cover

up for him."
At Haldeman's suggestion, I asked former White House counsel,
Charles Colson, to recommend a capable criminal lawyer who was
familiar with the workings of the U. S. Attorney's office. He
suggested his partner, Judd Best. So Best became my haison with
the prosecutors in Baltimore.
The President and his top people were totally absorbed in their
own problems arising from the Watergate scandal, which— al-
though Iwas blissfully unaware of it— was about to blow up in
their faces. As I stated earlier, having never been accepted in
the White House inner circle, I took no part in the frantic
maneuvering that was going on in mid-April.
On April 19, White House Counsel John Dean declared that
he would not become "a scapegoat in the Watergate case." On
that same day, Judd Best had his first meeting with George Beall
in Baltimore. The United States Attorney later filed a memoran-
dum of their conversation:

April 19, 1973, 10:30 A.M.-Mr. Best in the office. He

advised me that he represented Agnew; that his cHent had
heard "cocktail-party conversation" to the efi^ect that we
had an investigation in this office involving him, and that
there was deep concern about possible newspaper pub-
licity on the investigation, which his client would be seri-
 WHO WOULD BELIEVE IT? 59

ously hurt by, and which could not possibly be answered

appropriately.
I told Best that the investigation did not involve his
client and that we were very sensitive to the problems
of prejudicial publicity.

Best reported to me Beall's assurances in essentially the same

words. They sounded sincere, but I was still concerned, knowing
of Russell T. Baker, Jr.'s cocktail conversation of Matz's and
WolflF's early veiled threats to George White, and having learned
just a few days before of Matz's aggressive challenge issued
through Walter Jones.
It was around this time that the person I depended upon most
for clearheaded counsel began to come apart at the seams. George
White, my close friend, political counselor, and personal attorney,
began to visit me frequently with all kinds of "horror stories"
about how Matz and Wolff were gradually being forced to
implicate me in the continuing investigation. Long known as
one of the best trial lawyers in Baltimore, White was a person
I had come to rely on for cool, orderly advice on a variety of
subjects. I was shocked to see him becoming very nervous and
confused about the progress of the investigation. Instead of calm,
reasoned advice, I was getting only a lot of glum hand-wringing
and ominous predictions of disaster. All this was terribly out of
character for George. I think that Arnold Weiner, the very ex-
perienced criminal lawyer Matz and Wolff had retained, was
feeding White the gloomiest possible picture of what was happen-
ing in the U. S. Attorney's office, because his clients were clinging
to the hope that a sufficiently worried Agnew would, in some
magical way, stop the investigation. To add to that, White was
going through some critical financial problems of his own. I guess
his world seemed to be collapsing. Whatever the reason, it put
a lot of extra pressure on me at a time when I already had a
full plate of problems.
On April 30, after weeks of agonizing, President Nixon finally
announced the resignations of Haldeman, Ehrlichman, Dean, and
Kleindienst. Elliot Richardson, the secretary of defense, was
switched over to become Attorney General. That turned out to
be bad news for me.
60 GO QUIETLY or else
Nixon would soon grow to detest Richardson. As Watergate
diminished the President's power, Richardson changed from a
transparent toady to a sanctimonious lecturer on morals. I don't
know why Mr. Nixon put him in charge of the Justice Depart-
ment, except that he may have considered this a gesture towards
his enemies of the eastern establishment. Nixon had a compulsion
for giving important positions to people who were doctrinally
opposed to him. After the didactic Richardson had chosen
Archibald Cox as the special Watergate prosecutor and delivered
Mr. Nixon into the clutches of his worst enemies, the President
realized his mistake. But his realization came too late.
On August 22, when he was under heavy pressure from the
Watergate prosecutors, the President held a press conference
at San Clemente. The day before, I had held my own press con-
ference, attributing directly to the Justice Department the leaks
that the media were publishing about the investigation. Richard-
son had responded immediately, denying that his department
was responsible. Of course, the President got questions on this
subject. He condemned the leaks very strongly, saying he would
demand the immediate dismissal of any Justice Department em-
ployee found to be responsible for leaks. I phoned the President
to thank him for his support and to congratulate him on his
handhng of the press questions. He was very bitter about
Richardson, referring to him during our conversation as "that little
Ivy League pipsqueak s.o.b."
Elliot Richardson was one of those who tried to block my
nomination for Vice-President at the Miami Beach convention.
After Nixon had chosen me, the left-wingers drummed up a
little band of delegates on the floor who showed their dissatisfac-
tion by registering a protest vote for George Romney. My trouble
with the eastern liberal Republican establishment dates back to
the time when I led a national committee to draft Nelson
Rockefeller for the presidency.
I admired Rockefeller greatly. He was very successful as Gov-
ernor of New York; he favored a strong foreign policy to confront
the threat of communism in the world; he had good ideas about
how to make state government work for the benefit of the people,
and about how to use the federal bureaucracy most efi^ectively.
I had been active in the National Association of Counties and in
 WHO WOULD BELIEVE IT? 61

the various governors' associations, and I realized that local gov-

ernments were getting a raw deal: they had an insufficient tax
base to provide enough revenues to execute their responsibilities.
Rockefeller agreed, and we both favored a greater sharing of tax
revenues for state and local governments. Revenue sharing,
bastardized by the incompetence of the Nixon Domestic Council
staff, later became a poor substitute for what was needed.
I was also very friendly with Ronald Reagan and ideologically
compatible with him in many ways, but thought his two years as
Governor of California could not match Rockefeller's long years
of practical experience. A lot of people considered Rockefeller
very liberal and dovish on foreign policy, but he was not. He was
harder than Nixon, and a lot more hawkish about the mission of
America in the world. Later, when he was a member of the
Foreign Intelligence Advisory Board, I had an opportunity to
exchange views with him on several occasions. I can assure you
that Nelson Rockefeller would not have presided over the de-
struction ofC.I.A. effectiveness that we have been witnessing in
recent years.
Many admirers expected Rockefeller to announce his candi-
dacy for the presidency when he called a New York press con-
ference on March 21, 1968. I was even more confident that he
would announce because he had personally assured me that he
had made up his mind to run. We had talked when I introduced
him at the Ahepa (a Greek lodge) convention in Washington
only a few days before.
It was pure happenstance that March 21 was the day for my
regularly scheduled Thursday press conference in AnnapoHs. My
staff suggested that we set up a television set so that I could share
in the moment of glory as the great Rockefeller rocket blasted off.
After all, said my advisers, I had been the first governor to press
for the Rockefeller candidacy, and I should take the credit. Un-
fortunately, the rocket fizzled on the launching pad. Rockefeller
said: "I have decided today to reiterate unequivocally that I am
not a candidate campaigning directly or indirectly for the presi-
dency of the United States."
His announcement left me furious and humiliated. He had not
even shown me the courtesy of informing me of his intentions in
advance. He finally telephoned me hours afterwards, but only
62 GO QUIETLY or else
when the word had gone out on the wires that I was mad as a
hornet. Some time later, when Rockefeller switched once more
and belatedly tried to seize the nomination at Miami Beach, he
still held the allegiance of some members of my Maryland dele-
gation—those who were aligned with liberal Republican Sen.
Charles Mathias. I had long before declared my support would
go to Richard Nixon. As leader of the delegation, I tried to
deliver the entire bloc of Maryland votes to him. My efforts were
not successful. George Beall, who would later oppose me in a
much more serious way, was one of those I could not move. He
stayed with Rockefeller to the end.
We had a bitter argument among our delegates. Because John
Mitchell had sworn me to secrecy, I could not tell them that
Mitchell had visited me three days before the voting and told
me that it was 90 percent certain that I was going to be the vice-
presidential nominee. But I did everything else I could do to
swing Maryland votes to Mr. Nixon. The people in Sen. Mathias's
orbit did not come around, so the Maryland delegation remained
split, eighteen to eight in favor of Nixon.
When Beall's recommended appointment as federal prosecutor
for Maryland came to my attention— every Maryland appoint-
ment went across my desk and was subject to my approval when
I was Vice-President— I remember holding it a couple of days
and thinking, "George Beall was stubborn as a mule at the con-
vention and he is not on our team, so why should we make him
the U. S. Attorney?"
Old Maryland friends interceded for Beall, so I finally talked
to others who were opposed and concluded that since we were
trying to reunify the party, I should let bygones be bygones. So
I put my approval on the Beall nomination. It has often crossed
my mind that this was a crucial decision. If a different U. S. At-
torney had looked at the case being so eagerly and ruthlessly
developed by his left-wing Democratic assistants, he might have
been more objective about the self-serving testimony of the wit-
nesses who dragged me into their troubles to save their own
skins. Or perhaps he would not have retained people of incom-
patible political beliefs at all.
While recalling the 1968 political campaign, I might mention
an incident which shows that contrary to all the published lies
about my "graft" and "greed," I turned down a quarter of a
 WHO WOULD BELIEVE IT? 63

million dollars in cash that was offered me as a campaign con-

tribution.
This story has been related to me several times by friends in
the Baltimore Greek community. This is what they say hap-
pened: The Greek- Americans all over the United States were so
excited about the selection of the first vice-presidential candidate
of Greek blood that they enthusiastically began pouring money
into the Nixon-Agnew coffers. A group of Greek-American busi-
nessmen inChicago called Gus Constantine, who was very active
in fund-raising for us in Baltimore, and announced they had col-
lected $250,000. Constantine referred them to Walter Jones, who
was area chairman for the Nixon-Agnew ticket.
Jones asked, "How do we go about getting the money?"
"Someone is flying it down today," came the reply. "But be
clear on one thing. This is for our brother, Spiro, not for Nixon.
Most of us are Democrats, and we don't want to contribute to
Nixon."
Jones didn't think it would be very smart to point out that all
the money went into the same pot for the same purpose, so he
simply asked for the list of the contributors' names, which had
to be reported in compliance with the election laws.
"There are no names," the Chicagoan replied. "The money is
in a suitcase. It's for Agnew personally."
Evidently the Chicago businessmen of Greek ancestry had
simply canvassed the Greek community and collected a quarter
of a million dollars for "Spiro, the Greek." They wanted to give
it to Spiro Agnew, not to the Nixon Committee or to the Repub-
lican party, and they wanted to hand it to me personally.
My plane, by coincidence, was due to land in Chicago on the
afternoon Jones received the telephone call about the money. He
became alarmed over the possibility that some eager donor would
rush up to me at the airport and present me with a suitcase full
of money.
I assume some of the givers did not know about the techni-
calities of reporting campaign contributions; others probably
knew but did not want to be identified as contributors to a
Republican candidate, even if of Greek extraction, and perhaps
some of the money had not been reported to the I.R.S. For one
reason or another they did not want their names listed, but Jones
told them: "We have to have the names." He telephoned my
64 GO QUIETLY or else
plane and got campaign adviser George White on the line.
"George," he said, "don't let anyone hand the Governor anything
you can't identify while he is in Chicago."
The point of the story is that there are many opportunities for
a major political candidate to get his hands on cash if he is of a
venal nature. I have never considered political money my money.
That is why the I.R.S. never found the supposed hundreds of
thousands in kickbacks. They just didn't exist. Whatever con-
tributions were made were spent in the campaigns.
The allegations of the confessed bribers and extortioners that
they were acting to satisfy my "gargantuan appetite for cash" are
patently ridiculous. There was the time when Lester Matz said
he wanted to give five thousand dollars to me for Rockefeller's
campaign. "How do you want it?" he asked, and I said, "By
check." If I were as venal as my accusers say, it would have been
easy for me to answer, "Cash, Lester," and put the five thousand
in my pocket.
The opportunities I had to make money on my decisions as
governor were limitless. But I was a reform governor, and I re-
fused to play the old game of machine politics. In most previous
Maryland administrations, a lot of political influence went into
the selection of state judges. Ambitious politicians would have
their friends offer up to fifty thousand dollars in return for an
appointment to a judgeship. When I became governor, I made
sure that that practice did not penetrate my administration. I laid
the law down clearly: "There will be no tying of any judicial
appointments to any financial contributions to the party."
We never accepted a contribution tied to a judgeship, and we
never solicited judges for contributions. That was well known to
everyone in Maryland politics, and it was quite a variation from
past Maryland practice.
During the gubernatorial campaign of 1966, I realized it would
be impossible to see all the people who wanted to express sup-
port in the hope their support would not be forgotten if we were
successful. We had a committee that carried out the responsibil-
ity for raising party funds; Walter Jones, Bud Hammerman, and
George White were among its members. I believe they will re-
member well that I made it clear to them that they must not
promise anything to anyone in return for a contrilnition.
My two years as governor were noteworthy for a major tax
 WHO WOULD BELIEVE IT? 65

reform program and a strong effort to provide Maryland with a

new and less cumbersome constitution. Other accomplishments
and activities are fully set forth in the official record of the
Agnew administration, which has now been published by the
state of Maryland. Many will remember my time as governor
because of a confrontation I had with Baltimore's black leaders
during the disorders that followed the tragic murder of Martin
Luther King, Jr. Intimidated by the militants' accusations that
any black leaders
moderate who spoke against
seemed a black
unable to findwastheanresolve
"Uncle toTom," the
condemn
the rioting and arson.
I took a strong stand against the Cambridge riot, engineered
by H. Rap Brown, and against the campus upheavals at Bowie
State College. My actions were anathema to the liberal establish-
ment, which claimed I had suddenly switched from liberal to
conservative on the issue of race relations. This was not true. I
have never been liberal when it comes to condoning violence
and the intentional destruction of property.
It is my firm conviction that the hostility generated by my
actions during the riots was directly responsible for the antago-
nism of the liberal media during the 1968 presidential campaign.
Mr. Nixon and I might have begun our years in a different cli-
mate had not each of us been branded as being "without com-
passion" because of our refusal to sanction civil disobedience
that abrogated the rights of others.
Although no one, not even my enemies, has attempted to im-
plicate me in the Watergate scandal, I must say here that I think
the break-in incident was overblown and the shock expressed
largely phony. I don't condone it, but the major parties have
been penetrating and spying on each other for many years. What
was most reprehensible about Watergate was the cover-up and
lying that followed the break-in. The President should have dis-
missed everybody directly involved, burned the tapes, and taken
responsibility for the actions of his subordinates. The liberal in-
tellectuals and the left-wingers would have screamed for awhile,
but there would have been no impeachment and that would have
been the end of it.
So in spite of my being free of the taint of Watergate, I was
destined to learn in a very painful way that political enmity of
unscrupulous prosecutors, coupled with a weakened President,
66 GO QUIETLY or else
can destroy a Vice-President. The collection of unverified testi-
mony, improperly referred to as "corroborated"; the leaking of
it to the news media; the fabrication and leaking of damaging
accusations and wholly unsubstantiated rumors convicted me
before I ever had a chance to defend myself. Worst of all, these
things convicted me in the minds of the President and those mem-
bers of Congress who might otherwise have made sure that I was
given a congressional investigation and supported me as I faced
my accusers in a nationally televised impeachment hearing.
Some have speculated that Congress was disinterested in my
plight because the case against me was so strong. It is certainly
true that the Justice Department did everything possible to
create that impression— both to the Congress and the White
House. However, my real problem was in some ways similar to
the legislative problem President Carter faces in dealing with
the Congress every day. He is not— nor was I— a member of the
club.
When one comes to the executive branch of the federal gov-
ernment from state or local government, rather than from the
House or Senate, he comes as a stranger— without the many close
friendships that members of Congress develop through years of
working together. While I had a few close friends in the Con-
gress, did
I not have the broad base of acquaintances needed to
support my effort to obtain a hearing.
There were other reasons, more coldly political, for turning me
away. The White House itself was not supporting me. On the
contrary, it was quietly cutting my legs from under me. The
Democratic majority in the Congress knew Mr. Nixon was in
trouble and that he faced possible impeachment or resignation.
They did not want to rehabilitate a strong successor who could
unite the Republican party. All these factors taken together made
it easy for the Congress to ignore my problem.
 CHAPTER FIVE

HOW CAN WE PROVE IT?

On May 18, 1973, Joseph H. H. Kaplan, a lawyer representing

Lester Matz and John Childs, telephoned Assistant U. S. Attorney
Russell T. Baker, Jr., at Baltimore, proposing a deal. He re-
quested total immunity for his clients as a reward for testimony
that would lead the prosecutors to a major break in their in-
vestigation ofMaryland politicians and professional contractors.
Baker replied that Kaplan's clients were sure to be indicted on
charges of making payments in return for contracts to William
Fornoff, the chief assistant to Dale Anderson, my successor as
County Executive of Baltimore County. Kaplan said they knew
that, but hinted he had some information that was really sensa-
tional—however, there was some question whether the govern-
ment would even be interested in the information they could
supply.
As Kaplan had intended, this incongruous teaser thoroughly
whetted Baker's interest. The prosecutor reminded the lawyer
that Matz and Childs ". . . might be able to earn immunity if
they were to cooperate fully and truthfully." Kaplan then said
his clients had no evidence against Anderson and he thought the
government already had enough to convict Fornoff, so he
doubted they would offer his clients immunity for any more
information on him. Then Kaplan played his ace. Matz, he said,
could provide some testimony against the Vice-President of the
United States but, he quickly continued, he assumed the prose-
cutors would not wish to investigate the Vice-President.
"What do you mean by that?" Baker retorted, according to one
of his own memoranda of the conversation, an intriguing docu-
ment which I have obtained from the Justice Department's files
and about which I will comment further, later.
Baker virtuously declared (so he says in his memo), "This
67
68 GO QUIETLY or else
office is interested in doing its job, which is investigating and
prosecuting federal crimes. Since Agnew left Baltimore County
public office in 1966, all federal statutes of limitations had [sic]
run and Agnew has not been a subject of this investigation."
But Kaplan pressed on. He stated, according to another of
Baker's memos, that "there had been dealings between the Vice-
President and his clients while Agnew was County Executive and
Governor of Maryland and that they continued to have dealings
with him up to the present time''
Kaplan said Matz and Childs would talk, if given immunity,
but were reluctant to say anything that would destroy the busi-
ness they had built up over many years. Baker promised to
"minimize harm to the business." But he added they had better
hurry, because The Washington Post had three reporters snoop-
ing around; if they did not come in soon, he "would proceed
towards indictment of Matz and Childs."
The really interesting things about Baker's memoranda of
May 18 are that he wrote two memos about the same conversa-
tion, and that he states he discussed four subjects with Kaplan.
One of these was possible immunity for Matz and Childs, but
the other three listed in the memo have been painted out with
black ink. The second memo is characterized by Baker as a ''dis-
cussion ofinformal deals'' (italics mine ). What the deals were is
a puzzle. However, it is clear that Joseph Kaplan had more than
one stack of pancakes on the griddle, and it is equally clear that
the bargaining session involved more than the fate of Matz and
Childs.
I have reliable and confidential information that Matz first

told his "payments to Agnew" tale to Kaplan in hopes he could

pressure George White into convincing me to intercede in the
investigation. The Matz allegations provided Joe Kaplan with a
wonderful negotiating tool, because the prosecutors were also
looking into reports that a large and illegal campaign contribu-
tion from corporate funds had been made— in cash— to the com-
mittee that raised money for Sen. Joseph Tydings, the Maryland
Democrat, in his 1970 reelection campaign— which he lost to
Glenn Beall, Jr. Kaplan, as Tydings' campaign treasurer, was
directly accountable for any campaign-money irregularities.
Matz told several people that Kaplan relayed the "payments
to Agnew" story to Baker without even consulting his client in
 HOW CAN WE PROVE IT? 69

advance. When Matz asked Kaplan the reason for this irregular
procedure, Kaplan is said to have replied that the prosecutors
told him: "Get Matz in here to talk about Agnew or we will
proceed against you in the Tydings case."
Kaplan was reported to be lying awake and worrying at night
over his problems. I suspect he was in deep trouble; otherwise,
why would he run in ahead of his clients and say he could deliver
the Vice-President?
Beall and his youthful assistants have been depicted in print
as shouting for joy after Kaplan's telephone call on May 18; they
eagerly seized the chance to win national fame by prosecuting a
Vice-President of the United States. Skolnik, according to one
account, told Beall: '*Keep up the pressure, George. Keep ham-
mering at Matz and soon enough he will serve up Agnew."
On the same day, Archibald Cox was named the special Water-
gate prosecutor and promised to follow the trail of that scandal
all the way into "the Oval Office." That was a clear signal that
Richard Nixon would be a target of any Cox-managed investiga-
tion of the Vv^atergate cover-up. And if Mr. Nixon lost the presi-
dency, who would then become President of the United States?
I would, of course. Unless I could be pushed out of the way
beforehand— perhaps by smearing me with this scheme which
the Baltimore "Gang of Four" so zealously embraced.
For the next two weeks, Kaplan stalled. He said Matz and
Childs were worried about the danger that my ruination, after
the shock of Watergate, might cause too great a trauma for the
nation to bear. Baker fired back that if they would not talk, the
government would grant them use immunity to compel their
testimony against me before the grand jury. If the prosecutors
were forced to take this course. Baker continued, Matz and
Childs would still be prosecuted and there would be no deals
available to them. Both Baker and Kaplan were well aware that
the evidence of the Matz, Childs employees and of FornofFs
testimony, coupled with a net-worth investigation, would be
more than enough to sink Matz.
It would be appropriate here for me to comment on a very
sharp prosecutorial tool called immunity. Like a scalpel or a
chain saw, it can accomplish an enormous amount of work
quickly. But its use requires skill and restraint. Restraint is not
a dominant quality among the politically ambitious, and it was
70 GO QUIETLY or else
certainly lacking in the Justice Department when they agreed
that the Baltimore prosecutors had a strong case against me on
the bases of Matz's accusations and Wolff's assumptions.
It is ironic that immunity came into favor during the early
days of the Nixon administration, and that I strongly supported
the concept. I saw it as a way of getting to the narcotics big
shots by compelling the pusher on the street to implicate the
higher-ups. This looked like an attractive way to break organized
crime. However, danger lies in the fact that the hardened crim-
inal, even at the lowest level, seldom breaks. The prospect of
jail is neither new nor intimidating to him. But the white-collar
criminal, never before in trouble, not only breaks but collapses
and often bends the truth to save himself from incarceration.
His currency for salvation is the ambitious prosecutor's desire
to "trade up"— to make headlines by bagging big quarry. Immu-
nity then becomes bribery and extortion sanctioned by the law.
Upon convictions obtained by such uses of immunity, careers are
born. James Thompson, the loudmouthed Governor of Illinois,
is a case in point.
Immunity leaves the fairness of prosecution bilaterally in the
hands of the prosecutors and their bosses in the Attorney Gen-
eral's ofRce in Washington. When both have lost their impartial-
ity, there is no rein— unless it is the President of the United States
—and we know that the President, at the time of my case, had
the bit in his own mouth.
Where the bait is a political and philosophical enemy of some
importance, the prosecutor is sorely tempted to believe lies and
to encourage further lies. In the investigation of Spiro Agnew,
the temptation proved irresistible.
On June 4, in the Baltimore Federal courthouse, William For-
noff pleaded guilty to having "received substantial quantities of
money" from businessmen having contracts with Baltimore
County, and having delivered the cash to "another public official"
whom the media identified as County Executive Dale Anderson.
In return for his testimony, the government recommended that
Fornoff be spared from a jail term. In a sealed document pre-
sented to the court, Fornoff also named the businessmen accused
of having bribed him. Lester Matz and Jerome Wolff were on
that list.
After Fomoff's plea, Matz instantly realized that he was impli-
 HOW CAN WE PROVE IT? 71

cated in the Dale Anderson case. He could no longer remain

silent; he had to do something to stay out of jail. Kaplan had
been urging Matz all along to throw me to the wolves. So, on the
very next day, Kaplan again telephoned the U. S. Attorney's of-
fice. His clients had decided "in the national interest,'* he said,
that they would consider a deal. Kaplan demanded total immu-
nity from prosecution on all charges in return for their informa-
tion, which he claimed "was sufficient to convict a high federal
official of serious offenses." Baker and Skolnik refused to promise
the payoff without detailed information about the "high federal
oflBcial."
Kaplan said the case would amount to more than "a mere
swearing match" between his clients and me. My alleged offense
was, he claimed, "a substantial federal crime and not just a
campaign contribution violation." Skolnik warned that if Kap-
lan's clients told lies or held back anything, all deals they got
from the government for easy treatment would be "null and
void."
On June 7, in identical letters of negotiation sent to Matz,
Childs, and Wolff, Beall specified his terms: first, he must hear
all the information before making any deal. Second, he did not
want any more evidence on someone he already had—for in-
stance, on Fornoff. Beall went on to say the investigation had
produced evidence of several serious offenses on Matz's part in
addition to those about which Matz might be prepared to talk.
On June 11, apparently in fear that the Beall letter might
frighten Matz into changing his mind about accusing me. Baker
advised Kaplan that the letter "did not necessarily mean that
the government would inevitably charge and prosecute Matz
and Childs for bribery, whether or not they refused to co-
operate." The haggling continued as Baker and Beall used the
carrot-and-stick technique. It is difficult to tell exactly what
happened at the time because the memos are so heavily censored.
(Minor examples of such censoring appear in Appendix. )
Wolff swung back and forth, unable to decide whether to
cooperate. He was torn between two emotions— a frantic desire
to save himself from jail, and a terrible feeling of guilt about his
mistreatment of me. He was well aware of my regard for him
and knew how much I had done for him throughout his career,
and he hesitated to reward me by sticking a knife in my back.
72 GO QUIETLY or else
His lawyer, Arnold Weiner, told the prosecutors that Wolff was
on the brink of suicide.
Weiner and my former attorney, George White, are good
friends in a professional way. They are both very good trial
men, and White made no secret of his respect for Weiner as a
criminal lawyer. Weiner was fully experienced, having spent
quite some time as an Assistant U. S. Attorney in that same
Baltimore office. At this point in the investigation. White was in
almost daily contact with Weiner, and Weiner gave him a blow-
by-blow account of Wolff's torment— along with broad hints that
Wolff would be a devastating witness against me because of his
little notebook in which he had recorded, chapter and verse, an
alleged conspiracy between Hammerman, himself, and me. Actu-
ally, the notebook contained nothing that incriminated me. It
contained a record of engineering awards and notes based on
Wolff's conjectures
merman told him. and conclusions and, of course, what Ham-
Nonetheless, White became increasingly morose and on more
than one occasion told me that for all intents and purposes my
life was over, my career finished, and I would probably end up
in jail.
An insight into the eagerness of the prosecutors to implicate
me may be gained by knowledge that the Baltimore "Gang of
Four'' went to Richardson on June 12, the day after Baker took
pains to advise Kaplan that Matz and Childs might escape prose-
cution in spite of Beall's tough letter. They told Richardson they
were on the verge of receiving information from attorneys who
represented the subjects of an investigation— one which could
damage the Vice-President personally. At that point, the only
information they had was a secondhand story from a worried
Kaplan.
On June 13, Weiner asked total immunity for Wolff. This is
George Beall's own memorandum of his meeting with Weiner:
I fenced with him for awhile as to the difficulty for
us to predict what our posture would be without knowing
in greater detail what Wolff would be able to contribute
to the investigation. He insisted Wolff was a "victim" of
the Baltimore County system and that we should not be
particularly interested in pursuing him criminally. I dis-
 HOW CAN WE PROVE IT? 73

agreed with his characterization of Wolff and suggested

that, from our standpoint, the corruptors were just
shghtly less culpable than the public officials who were
the object of their affections. . . . He pressed and wanted
to know if we would consider immunity for Wolff. I said
that we would consider all of the alternative possibilities
with respect to his client, depending upon the informa-
tion he gives, his candor and reliability and adherence to
the agreement which we suggested in our letter.

A George Beall memo in the prosecutorial files indicates that

on June 15, during the time that Baker was encouraging Kaplan's
eflForts to bring Matz in to testify, Arnold Weiner stopped by to
see Beall with a "bizarre story with respect to leaks from this
office which came to him at the Maryland Bar Association meet-
ing yesterday." Weiner added that "the story was potentially
harmful to the members of the U. S. Attorney's office." I have
an idea what that story was, although like many others, it is not
revealed in the prosecutors' files. A highly respected lawyer in
a premier firm called me about that time, saying Skolnik had
mentioned during a conversation about another case that he had
to have a postponement because he was so tied up in the Agnew
investigation. The lawyer had been shocked at this indiscretion
on the part of an officer of the government, who was supposed
to know how to keep his mouth shut. No wonder so many damag-
ing leaks became the prosecutorial trademark of the Baltimore
"Gang of Four."
Meanwhile, Matz and Childs had decided, finally, to use me
as their escape hatch. They signed letters of negotiation spelling
out the terms for the plea bargaining and their testimony. On
June 21, Kaplan and Weiner met with Beall, Skolnik, and Baker.
Baker's memorandum of this conference— a document heavily
censored before the Justice Department would release it— quotes
Weiner as saying that Matz could testify about payments to me.
According to this document, Matz claimed he had given me
up to forty-four thousand dollars, including one twenty-thou-
sand-dollar payment while I was governor and the remainder in
a series of visits to me when I was Vice-President. "One payment
was apparently delivered to Agnew in the basement of the
White House itself," the memo said.
74 GO QUIETLY or else

I don't remember whether Matz visited me in my White House

office (incidentally, it was not in the basement), but I can assure
you that he delivered no kickbacks to me there or anywhere
else. Just about every politically oriented person I knew wanted
to stop by at the West Wing of the White House to say hello.
As my scheduler John Damgard often said, Matz would have
been in to see me every other day, if I had allowed it.
The same memo contains the following outrageous fabrication,
told to Weiner by Matz and dutifully relayed to the prosecutors.
According to Baker's memo, someone close to Matz wanted a
federal job in Maryland that was within the control of the Vice-
President's office. Walter Jones told Matz the job would cost
twenty-five hundred dollars, and it was arranged between Matz
and Jones that the payment was to be delivered in the Vice-
President's office. On the appointed day, Matz met his friend
across the street from the Vice-President's office. The man only
had a thousand dollars, and Matz agreed to lend him the addi-
tional fifteen hundred that he needed. Matz took the money in
cash into the Vice-President's ofiice and "placed it on the corner
of Agnew's desk," the memo reads. "Jones and Agnew," it says,
"were in the room when Matz placed the money on the desk,
but neither of them picked it up before Matz left." And Matz's
friend, according to this memorandum, later got the job.
During my years in executive political offices, I guess I got
thousands of jobs of one type or another for friends and friends-
of-friends. But I did not sell any of them— neither the most pres-
tigious nor the most lowly. Any of those I appointed or recom-
mended for appointment can verify that; not even my adversaries
bothered to accuse me of this at any time during my career.
That piece of fiction was seized upon by the prosecutors as
the centerpiece of their charge I had accepted cash from Matz
while I was Vice-President. They believed they could make Jones
testify that he had been in my office at the time and had wit-
nessed the transfer of the money. Then their case would not
depend solely on the testimony of a few trapped men desperately
trying to save themselves by offering me as a sacrifice; it could
be corroborated by J. Walter Jones, the respected banker who
had been identified with my political career for a long time.
But they ran into a sticky problem. Jones said yes, he certainly
was in my office that day with Matz, but no cash transfer had
 HOW CAN WE PROVE IT? 75

taken place. The truth, said Jones, is that Matz sent a twenty-five
hundred dollar check to the Nixon-Agnew reelection campaign
fund, and Jones then supplied Matz's covering letter confirming
the check. So the prosecutors— confronted by the check, Matz's
letter, and Jones's testimony— then did a lot of clandestine modi-
fication. They stuck to the story of the twenty-five hundred
dollars, but became very fuzzy about Jones being in my office
at that time. The reason is clear: Jones's testimony destroyed
their case for the so-called payment by Matz in the Vice-Presi-
dent's office. This was a typical performance by the federal
attorneys in Baltimore.

From the word go— from the first day Weiner quoted Matz as
saying *T paid off the Vice-President"— the prosecutors never
showed the slightest incredulity about the charge. On the con-
trary, their actions revealed their keen desire to make a case.
They never expressed any doubt; they said in effect, "How can
we nail it down? How can we prove it?"
Unquestionably, George Beall was a very weak U. S. Attorney.
He was never really in command of his ofiice. Skolnik, the old
hand, led George around by the nose. A skimming of the Cohen-
Witcover book, A Heartbeat Away, reveals starkly the romanti-
cized self-portrait painted by the Baltimore "Gang of Four." They
were, in their own eyes, the tough TV law-enforcement types.
Witnesses who resented their high-handed tactics and became
unwilling to grovel were called "bad men."
The prosecutors reveled in intimidation and repeated to their
chroniclers self-aggrandizing happenings, such as Wolff's state-
ment that his blood froze when Skolnik said, "I got Congressman
Johnson, and I'll get you." Their technique was to terrorize wit-
nesses. In Heartbeat, it is said that Skolnik chased uncooperative
witnesses with special delight. "He would hammer at the witness
unceasingly, threatening imprisonment and the disgrace that
went with it" . . . "[Once the witness] decide [d] to cooperate
... he became malleable, often zealous, willing to report fact
and hearsay'' (italics mine).* And, I might also add, willing to
compose fiction.
The rude tactics they used in their initial contact with poten-

* A Heartbeat Away, Cohen, Richard M., and Witcover, Jules, p. 72.

76 GO QUIETLY or else
tial witnesses are another example of their abuse of their au-
thority. When they phoned my old friend, Harry A. Dundore, Sr.,
a retired businessman who had no connection with government
awards whatever, the first thing they said to him was their old
line, "Do you have a criminal lawyer?" When he replied that he
did not, they told him perhaps he'd better get one. That alone
is enough to scare a law-abiding citizen to death. Then they told
him they didn't want to discuss the case on the phone, but that
it was serious and his lawyer should contact them.
In their effort to show that I had illegally received money,
they immunized scores of witnesses who had done business with
the county or state, or who had contributed to my campaigns.
But they could get no one to say I had ever extorted money from
them, or that I had ever indicated I would withhold work unless
they made a payment to me. Some businessmen came to me with
campaign contributions. I didn't chase after them. They also went
to other politicians, past and present, of both parties.
Where the money was used is the determining factor. If it
went for personal use and had been solicited in direct exchange
for political payoff, it was graft. If it went to a political cam-
paign and had been voluntarily given, it was a campaign con-
tribution. received
I no bribes. I engaged in no extortion. Both
Wolff and Matz stated in their polygraph tests that I had never
asked them for money. That is part of the prosecutors* own
records.
Yet the prosecutors set out to make somebody testify that I
had extorted money and received bribes. The witnesses knew
what the prosecutors wanted. They wanted to implicate me
criminally. The minute a witness would say, "I don't know of
any misconduct by Agnew," the prosecutors would say, "We'll
immunize you and take you before the grand jury. If you lie,
you'll go to jail for perjury. If you refuse to testify, you'll go to
jail for contempt of court. So you might as well tell us. We know
more about what you've been doing than you think we do."
The frightened witnesses indeed became "malleable." Es-
pecially when they were reminded of the horrors of jail. The
prosecutors told one witness: "You're a very nice-looking man.
Certainly, you don't want to be thrown into jail with a lot of
thugs who will treat you like their girl friend."
It isn't hard to see why such insinuations would make a man's
 HOW CAN WE PROVE IT? 77

blood run cold. The prosecutors used these and other rough tactics
in their determination to get me. These men, in violation of my
constitutional rights, assumed that I was guilty unless proved in-
nocent, and they persuaded frightened men to testify against me
in return for easier treatment.
Federal Judge Hoffman, during a conference with my at-
torneys and the prosecutors, said he was not unfamiliar with prose-
cutorial indiscretions— previously he had reviewed a grand jury
transcript from another jurisdiction in which the prosecutors had
browbeaten one witness and accused another of lying. Judge
Hoffman called it a disgraceful performance by the government.
 CHAPTER SIX
STRIKE WHILE THE IRON IS HOT

The files of the Justice Department on the Agnew case are

fascinating. They would be even more so if they were not so
well decorated with the black ink-blots of the prosecutor-censors.
Even so, they have revealed to me long after the event the
machinations of the U. S. Attorney's ofiice in Baltimore, as the
"Gang of Four" constructed their fragile case against me and
the Department of Justice used it to force my resignation from
the vice-presidency. Attorney General Elliot Richardson proposed
to confront me with the allegations of the witnesses, who had
made their deals with the prosecutors, and to demand that I re-
sign. By a not-so-strange coincidence, this rush for my resignation
occurred just as Richardson was beginning to believe that the
President himself was cracking under the strain of the Watergate
scandal and must soon leave the presidency.
The records show that U. S. Attorney George Beall received
a phone call from Attorney General Richardson's assistant on
July 3. The Attorney General was terribly busy and would have
to cancel the appointment Mr. Beall had previously made with
him for that day.
Beall accepted the postponement and was berated by Skolnik
for his timidity. In A Heartbeat Away, Skolnik is reported to have
said, "God damn it. Call the secretary up and tell her that we
must see the Attorney General today." Beall obediently called
back, insisted that the matter was very urgent, and eventually
prevailed. So the Baltimore Four went to Washington for the
second time, armed only with the narratives of attorneys Kaplan
and Weiner, to tell Richardson that two men in deep trouble
themselves would implicate the Vice-President of the United
States— if it would help them escape their own difficulties.
The three-hour meeting in the
78 Attorney General's oflBce was
 STRIKE WHILE THE IRON IS HOT 79

interrupted repeatedly because Richardson had to take a series

of urgent telephone calls from the White House. It later came
out that Mr. Nixon had been burning up the wires with angry
protests about an unsubstantiated story in the press, which said
that Watergate Special Prosecutor Cox was probing government
expenditures
mente home. of about $1.5 million on the President's San Cle-
The President demanded that Richardson get Cox to deny
unequivocally that any inquiry was being made into the Casa
Pacifica financing, and to do it immediately. Nixon's ranting and
raving so upset the Attorney General, according to Richardson's
staff, that the proper Bostonian considered resigning then and
there. One reason he did not quit was that he believed the Pres-
ident was losing control, emotionally and mentally, and might
soon have to hand the presidency over to me. That was a hor-
rible prospect to the Attorney General, who seems to have been
determined I should never reside in the White House.
Richardson has been quoted as saying that the Baltimore pros-
ecutors so impressed him with their tale about me that he soon
became convinced it was true. Having prosecuted similar charges
as a U.S. Attorney in Massachusetts, he thought the Marylanders
had "more complete and convincing testimony than I had ever
been able to assemble in my own investigations." The startling
assessment was based solely on the unverified, unquestioned nar-
ratives bylawyers Kaplan and Weiner as relayed to Richardson
by the Baltimore Four.
By past accounts, Richardson did not need much to convince
him about charges against public officials. In 1966, when he was
running for Attorney General of Massachusetts, he accused his
opponent, Francis Bellotti, of lacking the moral sensitivity to fill
the ofiice because he accepted an improper retainer-fee. Richard-
son won the election. Press reports say that he was upbraided
by Judge Webster Thayer, who presided over the notorious
Sacco-Vanzetti trial, for using tactics against an Italian-American
that he would never have considered using against a member of
his own class. According to columnist Kevin Phillips:

Hostility toward ethnic politicians appears to run in

Richardson's family. His maternal uncle, Henry Lee Shat-
tuck, hated Boston's Irish wardheelers so much that he
80 GO QUIETLY or else

paid $35,000 out of his own money for the private investi-
gation that led to Mayor James Curley's imprisonment
for fraud in 1947. Such moralizing against corruption is
easy for the rich Lees, Shattucks, and Richardsons. Even
when Elliot Richardson was a young man, his unearned
income from inheritances was $100,000 a year. New En-
gland fortunes like this were not built on seamy court-
house graft; they were built on the higher morality of
three generations of ethnic millworkers paid $11 a week
and dead in their graves at 43.

But what was the sum total of this "most complete and con-
vincing testimony" that the Baltimore prosecutor now offered a
credulous Richardson? It consisted of nothing except the payoff
story of Lester Matz and the speculations and hearsay of Jerome
Wolff, which their lawyers had outlined along with Matz's de-
mands that the government must pay a high price for it by grant-
ing him total immunity from prosecution. Matz himself had not
yet come in and testified under oath. Wolff at this point had
not even signed a letter of negotiation.
Baker's memorandum of the July 3 meeting states: "The
Attorney General indicated that he was greatly concerned for
the nation if these allegations proved accurate, particularly in
view of the Watergate matter. He directed that the investigation
should be a thorough one. He also indicated that it would prob-
ably be advisable at some later point to confront the Vice-Presi-
dent with the allegations in order to give him an opportunity to
clear himself, if possible."
Before the Matz fabrications had turned the investigation in
my direction, my lawyer, Judd Best, had discussed with George
Beall the possibility that my testimony might be needed. We
believed it was constitutionally inappropriate for the Vice-Presi-
dent to appear before any grand jury, and had so advised Beall.
Beall now relayed this information to Richardson, who indicated
I might be questioned by deposition. Richardson seemed to be
preoccupied with speculation about the judicial vulnera])ility of
the President and the Vice-President. On June 25, he received
a very long memo from Assistant Attorney General Dixon about
whether or not a President is subject to judicial su]:)poena.
Beall said Matz was "unwilling to cooperate except in ex-
 STRIKE WHILE THE IRON IS HOT 81

change for total immunity." Baker's memorandum goes on to

add: "The Attorney General did not in any way indicate that
total immunity was an impossibility. Instead, he suggested that
total immunity should probably depend upon the extent of the
corroboration which could be mustered in support of Mr. Matz's
allegations." Baker says that Richardson "did understand, how-
ever, that negotiations could not proceed with Mr. Matz and
his attorneys unless we could indicate that immunity was a pos-
sibility." The Attorney General's attitude is summed up in Heart-
beat as follows: "Richardson grasped the dimensions of what the
Baltimoreans were telling him, but he never challenged the au-
thenticity ofit. From the very first the resignation of Vice-Presi-
dent Agnew was seen by the Attorney General as the most direct,
desirable way to serve the public interest."
When Richardson suggested that he should tell President
Nixon about the charges against me, the prosecutors emphati-
cally objected. They were afraid the word would get back to me
and I would break the news of my being a target. They had not
yet nailed down either Matz or Wolff, and they were afraid a
public statement from me would change their minds— scare them
off. Their plan was to sneak up behind me without warning.
They were also cool to Richardson's idea of confronting me with
the evidence and giving me a chance to assert my innocence.
They knew their evidence would be tainted— bought from a du-
bious character in exchange for total immunity— and they knew
I would fight.
Kaplan and Weiner repeated their demand for total immunity
at a meeting with the prosecutors the same day. Beall told them
"immunity was a possibility," and that it depended upon the
corroboration. A few days later, Matz came in and detailed the
story previously told by his lawyers. On July 9, my attorney,
Judd Best, made another of his periodic telephone calls to Beall
to find out the latest developments. Beall said he could not dis-
cuss the matter over the phone, that Best should call back for a
meeting. The next day Best called again, but Beall said he had
decided it was not appropriate for them to talk any more. In
effect, Beall said, "Don't call me; I'll call you."
"I understand," Best replied. He knew then that, despite their
denials, the investigators were really aiming at me— that they
must have some new testimony linking me to the case. They did.
82 GO QUIETLY or else
Much later, I learned that Jerry Wolff came in on July 10 and
made a detailed statement to the prosecutors. I am convinced
that Wolff— who is, as I have said, one of the brightest men I
have ever known in or out of the government— did so only be-
cause he was frightened half to death. He was terribly nervous,
and threatening suicide. The prosecutors drove him to the point
where he felt compelled to give them something, yet he could
not do the totally dishonest thing— turning against me altogether
and saying he knew I had received payments for my personal
use.
A careful reading of his statement shows that he repeated only
what Bud Hammerman had told him: in essence, that Hammer-
man was collecting money from contractors and engineers and
dividing it three ways: giving 25 percent to Wolff, 50 percent to
me, and keeping 25 percent for himself. I suspected that Ham-
merman had for years been giving money to Wolff, who was, as
I mentioned earlier, always in a financial squeeze because of his
first wife's claims for support and his own high style of living.
Hammerman's story about paying 50 percent of the money he
collected to me is an outright lie. I have denied it many times
and will continue to deny it to my dying day. I knew that Ham-
merman was raising funds; he was constantly telling me that
financing campaigns was a year-in, year-out job, that you could
not wait until election years to get the amount of money needed.
But I didn't ask for details. Of course, I was aware that the really
substantial givers were people who did business with the state
and that consulting engineers were a traditional source of polit-
ical money. But I insisted that all jobs go to qualified people.
However, we gave jobs to our friends more often than to those
who had opposed us. Not all of our friends were contributors to
our campaigns, but most were. Some contributed to both sides.
Wolff never got the story of Hammerman's alleged payoffs to
me from any source except Hammerman, or from some other
Hammerman crony who heard it from Hammerman. In his state-
ment to the prosecutors, Wolff used all kinds of vague expres-
sions, such as he "felt" or "sensed" or "believed" or "assumed"
what Hammerman and I were doing, but he did not say outright
that he had any definite direct knowledge Hammerman was
*Tcicking back" to me.* There was an excellent reason: he had
* For Wolff's statement to the prosecutors in its entirety, see Appendix.
 STRIKE WHILE THE IRON IS HOT 83

no such information, so he did not provide any real corroboration.

WolflF's notes supposedly put the nails in my cofRn, but except
for hearsay and speculation, they did not actually involve me.
The saddest thing about this case is that as soon as Wolff went
to the prosecutors, the people I was depending on to help me
immediately assumed I was guilty. The prosecutors, the United
States Attorney, the Nixon administration people, assumed the
witnesses were telling the truth when actually they were "trading
up," telling the prosecutors what they wanted to hear and nego-
tiating their own salvation by implicating the *l3ig man."
The reader may wonder, as I do now, why some intrepid in-
vestigative reporter has not questioned the weight of the testi-
mony against me that was set forth in the highly publicized
forty-page compendium of "evidence." Wolff's statement was
there for all to assess. The only person in a position to corroborate
Matz was Jones, who pronounced him a liar. There is absolutely
no corroboration of Green's or Hammerman's stories, except their
own self-serving declarations made to each other or to associates.
Moreover, Matz and Green had double motives for deception—
to get themselves off the hook, and to get extra cash for them-
selves, blaming the heavy withdrawals from their firms on greedy
politicians. Hammerman had substantial cash needs for his woo-
ing of the big financiers in New York so that he could move his
Baltimore development projects forward.
The records which I have obtained from the Justice Depart-
ment's files show that the Baltimore Four met with the Attorney
General for nearly three hours on July 11 to speed up consolida-
tion of the case before I became aware of the charges to be made
against me.
Richardson called for proof that the payments Lester Matz
claimed he made to me were connected with business he re-
ceived from the state of Maryland. Beall and Baker said Matz
alleged such a link. The Attorney General then observed, "There
are at least two lines of defense available to Mr. Agnew: one,
that the payments were only political contributions and two, that
Matz's story was a total fabrication— that in fact, Matz had been
cheating his partner and using the money generated by the com-
pany for his own purposes."
Richardson said that only an elaborate net-worth investigation
of my finances might determine whether or not "Mr. Agnew had
84 GO QUIETLY or else

in fact received the money and converted it to his personal use."

There was no proof of that in the mere allegations of Matz and
WolfiE.
Richardson expressed grave concern about "the consequences
for the ability to govern," especially in view of President Nixon's
diflBculties arising from Watergate. The Attorney General won-
dered how to handle this case in a way that would "minimize
harm to the nation"; he suggested confronting me and giving me
the opportunity to refute the charges or to resign. At that time,
I was being kept in the dark about the allegations against me.
Skolnik, the demon investigator, has been quoted as saying he
considered Richardson's proposals "amusing but insane." The
young Assistant U.S. Attorney then proceeded to tell the Attor-
ney General how the case should be handled. He told Richardson
that he must never reveal to me anything but the bare outlines
of the case, lest I should have an opportunity "to manufacture
and tailor evidence and documents." Skolnik's own technique
was to encourage the suspect to "hang himself." He proposed
contacting other potential witnesses and making them talk by
whatever methods proved most eflfective, and to defer any con-
frontation with me.
Richardson said the President had a right to be fully informed
about the charges against the Vice-President, but not immedi-
ately; "the Vice-President might establish that he was innocent
and that the allegations against him were totally false." So why
bother the President with another problem on top of his Water-
gate troubles? The transparency of their excuse to avoid inform-
ing the President need not be explained, other than to say Mr.
Richardson's subsequent conduct proved beyond any doubt that
giving the President problems was not of major concern to him.
The Baltimore prosecutors feared that information given to the
President might be "leaked" to me. It would never do for me to
be forewarned about the knife that was poised to stab me in the
back: Richardson promised to "exercise discretion" and not tell
Nixon too much.

He ordered the team to "strike while the iron is hot" and wrap
up the case. But he insisted that he must make the final decision
on any grants of immunity to witnesses in payment for their tes-
timony used in building "the case against the Vice-President."
He feared it would not look good to have all the key witnesses
 STRIKE WHILE THE IRON IS HOT 85

bought with promises of complete immunity; if the government

had only witnesses of that sort, the case would look suspicious
to the grand jury and to the public. I totally agree: The chief
witnesses were all men in deep trouble with the law, who tes-
tified against me to save their own skins. And up to the very end,
the Attorney General and the Baltimore "Gang of Four" insisted
that no immunity had been granted. The fact that Wolff, Matz,
and Hammerman, in spite of their confessions, have no criminal
records today proves otherwise.
Ronald S. Liebman has detailed the prosecutors' techniques in
a devastating way in his private memorandum of July 17, relating
a meeting which he and Baker had that day with Brendan Sulli-
van, alawyer from the well-known firm of Edward Bennett Wil-
liams. Sullivan was the attorney for Allen Green, another engi-
neer accused of making payments to Maryland politicians in
return for contracts.
"Baker advised Sullivan to inform Green that we are not just
fishing with respect to information of corrupt activities per-
formed by his client," Liebman wrote. "We are interested in
Green's personal tax difficulties."
Then Baker told Sullivan, "The government does not and will
not buy half a witness." The prosecutors would make concessions
only after "we knew what we were buying," and that would con-
sist of all his information about payments to Maryland politicians.
There could not be a better illustration of the lack of decency
in the Baltimore U.S. Attorney's office than this casual reference to
"buying" a witness. The gross appeal to a frightened wrongdoer
that he can sell testimony incriminating someone else in order
to protect himself, is bad enough. But to add that the "govern-
ment does not and will not buy half a witness" is a clear signal
that the potential witness will be expected to provide all the tes-
timony the prosecutor wants to obtain from him. Otherwise, how
would the prosecutor be aware when the witness had told only
half of what he knew?
With self-serving professions of nobility, Richardson and the
prosecutors claimed they did not "buy" any testimony, but the
candid admissions by Liebman in his private memorandum show,
as the young attorney said, that they 'Thought" an entire witness
in every instance; they refused to "buy" only half of one.
 CHAPTER SEVEN
THE POINT OF NO RETURN

According to Mr. Nixon's memoirs, he awakened very early on

July 12 with severe chest pains. Despite a temperature of 102
degrees, he completed a full schedule that day. At Dr. Walter
Tkach's insistence, he was driven to Bethesda Naval Hospital in
the evening. He was found to be suflFering from viral pneumonia
and was admitted to the hospital.
I did not learn that the President was ill until he was on his
way to the hospital. My recollection is that I received a call from
a White House staff member, who advised it was nothing serious
and that it should be played down as far as media questions were
concerned. There was a fear that adversaries in the Congress and
Watergate-preoccupied press would imply that the illness was
the onset of emotional problems, or worse.
The next morning General Haig informed me the President
was doing fine and wanted me to carry on my regular schedule
which, of course, included whatever cabinet, leadership, or Na-
tional Security Council meetings had been previously set up. Any
meetings scheduled were not to be cancelled. I was to take over
the chair and follow the regular agenda. I made it a point to con-
duct these meetings— which were held in the Cabinet Room next
to the Oval Office— from my own chair and not from the Pres-
ident's. And even though I was convinced that Mr. Nixon's illness
was not serious, the empty presidential chair— its back slightly
higher than the rest— made me more aware than I had ever been
of the awesome responsibilities that were always only a step
away. I was conscious that others in the room were also aware
of that fact.

86
 THE POINT OF NO RETURN 87

On Monday, July 16, while in the hospital, Nixon received the

shocking news from General Haig that Bob Haldeman's former
assistant, Alex Butterfield, had revealed to the Watergate com-
mittee the existence of the White House taping system.
Several days passed before I was allowed to see the President
at Bethesda or even talk to him on the phone, although he saw
and talked to Haig, Press Secretary Ziegler, Kissinger, and George
Shultz during that time. As I said before, I was not a member of
the "in" group— any more than Harry Truman was during the
Roosevelt years. When I finally did see Mr. Nixon, he was sitting
in a chair and looked quite well. We talked for about half an
hour, mainly about Butterfield's revelation of the tapes and the
Watergate situation generally. There was no mention of my im-
pending problem, and I didn't feel that it was the proper time
to discuss it. I doubt the President was even thinking about it
because, at this point, nothing had come out in the press. The
prosecutors and Richardson had not yet confided their intentions
to General Haig.
Abruptly, Mr. Nixon asked me what I thought he should do
about the tapes. He said he knew there would be demands to let
the tapes tell the truth about what had transpired in the secrecy
of the Oval Office since the break-in. He was terribly concerned
about matters on the tapes that might affect the national security;
also, he was uncomfortable about discussions he had had with
individuals that they thought were entirely private. He added
that much of the time he wasn't even conscious the machine was
there, and really didn't know what was on the tapes.
I advised him to destroy the tapes. I thought then, and believe
today, that the tapes should have been burned. For a man not to
protect himself against the hostile interpretation and dissemina-
tion of what amounts to his own private, unguarded remarks just
doesn't make good sense. The way the tapes were used was man-
ifestly unfair to Nixon and a violation of his civil rights, in my
opinion.
When he returned to the White House on July 20, the Pres-
ident told his staff that because of his illness and the mounting
attacks over Watergate, they would be hearing comments sug-
gesting he should consider either slowing down his work or re-
signing. He rejected those ideas with one word: "poppycock."
The day after Butterfield's revelation to the world that the
88 GO QUIETLY or else
President maintained a secret taping system— July 17— Assistant
U. S. Attorneys Baker and Liebman met Brendan Sullivan.
Sullivan came in to negotiate a deal for Allen and Max Green,
principals in the Green Associates, Inc. Both brothers were in
serious income tax trouble with the federal government. Here
again, I was a convenient piece of bait.
Myriad witnesses previously interrogated by the Baltimore
Four had led the prosecutors to the Green consulting-engineer
firm, which was quite prominent, not only in Maryland but on
the entire East Coast. The Green outfit had received substantial
awards from the state of Maryland and other governmental enti-
ties before I became governor.
To my knowledge, I have never met Max Green, who was ac-
tive mostly in Pennsylvania. The firm maintained a major oflBce
there as well as in Maryland. However, I had known Allen Green
since my county executive days. How we met is interesting.
In 1962, not long after I took office in Baltimore County, I re-
ceived a call from Sen. Glenn Beall, Sr., the father of Glenn, Jr.,
and George Beall. I had known Beall, Sr., ever since I first be-
came involved in county politics in 1957. The senator said he had
a good friend, a consulting engineer named Allen Green, who
had been active in fund-raising for his campaigns. Green, he said,
wanted to meet me. He had not been doing any work to speak of
in Baltimore County, and the senator thought he could be of
service. Green headed a very large and experienced firm. Beall
closed by remarking that Green could be really helpful to me in
raising campaign money, and that he highly recommended my
seeing him.
Being a neophyte in such matters, I was grateful for the sug-
gestion; and, of course, I wanted to please Senator Beall, who
was one of the most powerful and senior members of the party
in Maryland. In due course, Green arranged an appointment,
and a few days later we talked.
Allen Green is a soft-spoken, suave man. He played his sales
job very low key. I was impressed with the credentials of his or-
ganization and consulted Albert Kaltenbach, head of the county
engineering department, about his getting some work from the
county. Kaltenbach told me that there was no question about the
qualifications of the Green firm. We gave them work and the
 THE POINT OF NO RETURN 89

county engineers were well satisfied with the results.

Over the years, I had come to know and like Allen Green. He
contributed generously to our campaigns, and his work increased
as the big jobs expanded. I should digress here a moment to
explain that the very large construction projects required sizable
firms with high performance capability. So the big consulting-
engineering groups did not have heavy competition with regard
to the more complicated and extensive projects. They all did
well. Moreover, the big jobs always seemed to become bigger
while in progress, as the government usually added to the job
while it was underway. This resulted from the rapid growth of
the county and the need to constantly extend services.
Allen Green told the prosecutors that he was kicking back en-
gineering fees to me. He was caught in the same cash-generating
problems that beset Matz and Childs and was undoubtedly ad-
vised to "trade up" with the rest of those similarly implicated.
Green did make contributions to me for political purposes. He
insisted on making most of them in cash and handing them to me
personally. He told me that was the way he operated with Sen-
ator Beall, Sr., and other politicians of both parties. The money
that Green gave me was used for political campaigns. Some was
reported under other names, some was given in cash to other
candidates I wanted to help, some went for "walking-around
money," and some, I freely admit, went for entertaining and
wooing influential civic leaders— particularly those of large or-
ganized groups, whose endorsements were important to the major
candidates.
Allen Green told the prosecutors he introduced me to Senator
Beall, Sr. It is ridiculous for him to assert that. How could two
of the best-known and important Republicans in the state of
Maryland— where you could count Republican officeholders on
your fingers— not know each other? This fabrication is no more
true than his claim that his contributions were kickbacks deliv-
ered at my insistence.
How close the Green family's connections were to the Beall
family, I did not realize— until I learned much later that Richard
Beall, the younger brother of Glenn, Jr., and George, was em-
ployed as a consulting engineer by the Green firm in Pennsyl-
vania. When Allen Green visited me in Washington, he would
90 GO QUIETLY or else
often remark that he was going to drop in at Sen. Glenn Beall,
Jr/s, oflBce before he returned to Baltimore.
Allen Green, like many others whose business thrived on being
close to well known political figures, lost no opportunity to in-
gratiate himself. John Damgard, formerly my appointments chief,
used to get irritated at the constant pressure Green applied to
get close to me. Green pressed me to appear at the parties he
gave, usually large formal affairs at his country club; he arranged
with my scheduler once a year to come to our apartment in the
Sheraton Park hotel "to present a small holiday remembrance.'*
Although the initiative for these meetings was always his, my
wife and I, out of a sense of awkwardness, would ask the Greens
to come for dinner. The gifts were expensive but we didn't know
how to turn them off without offending the Greens. We did give
them gifts in return, but could not afford such lavish ones as
those we received. They usually gave us watches or pieces of
jewelry. I later was told that Green had an arrangement with a
jeweler friend and bought these items in quantity for substantial
discounts. I doubt that the Agnews were the only recipients of
gifts from Green.
The gifts Allen Green presented raise a question in themselves.
If Green was already kicking back thousands of dollars to me for
my personal use, why the need to give me expensive presents?
John Damgard, Gen. Mike Dunn, and Art Sohmer hated to see
Green come into the office. He always had a problem he wanted
help with— a relative who wanted to get into medical school, a
recommendation for a friend to one of the service academies,
help with a politician in Central America to get a construction
job there, a contact with a Greek bureaucrat for the same pur-
pose—there seemed to be no end to his requests for the Vice-
President's office to assist him. I have a file of his requests that
I copied before I left office. Because he was one of my firmest
supporters and helped me politically, I never stonewalled his
attempts to "use" the Vice-President's office. But I told Dunn
and Sohmer not to do anything improper or even questionable
on his behalf, and they didn't. Allen Green did not get one suc-
cessful result that I know of out of his multiple entreaties.
Justice Department internal records show that the Baltimore
prosecutors met with the Attorney General again on July 27 and
 THE POINT OF NO RETURN 91

told him that press pubHcity of the Agnew investigation was im-
minent. He sought assurances that a federal criminal case could
be brought against me, and he was told that the charges could
be based on statutes concerning income tax evasion, extortion,
conspiracy, bribery, and conflict of interest. Clearly, they were
preparing to throw the book at me.
Richardson expressed concern that the government's case
would be gravely weakened in the eyes of a jury and the Ameri-
can people if all the main witnesses won immunity in exchange
for testifying against me. This must have been tongue in cheek
in view of Richardson's knowing that all of them were on their
knees begging for a deal, and that the prosecutors were telling
them B call's letter didn't mean they "positively" couldn't "earn"
total immunity. It all depended, said the prosecutors, on the
"quality of the evidence." The witnesses would have had to have
been stupid not to know that the more they implicated me, the
higher the "quality of the evidence."
Well, of the four witnesses relied on by the prosecutors, only
one— Hammerman— was prosecuted in connection with the Ag-
new case, and his case was thrown out on appeal because he
had been made improper promises in exchange for his testimony.
The prosecutors told Richardson they were thinking in terms
of total immunity for Wolff, Matz, and Childs— and that it was
a substantial possibility for Allen Green, but not for Hammer-
man or J. Walter Jones. My friend Jones was steadfastly refusing
to take the bait and help himself by lying about me. He insisted
we were both innocent, that he had no information whatever to
aid this attempt to railroad me out of the vice-presidency.
At last, Richardson said, he had made up his mind to tell the
President about the case. He had refrained from doing so, he
said, as long as there was a considerable "possibility of exonera-
tion." The Baltimore Four said they could not see any tenable
defense for me, based upon the evidence. They strongly opposed
advising me in any detail about the allegations. They were de-
termined to present me with a formal letter outlining the charges,
as if I were some common criminal— not the Vice-President of
the United States.
They would also use the letter as a device to force me to de-
liver all of my personal financial papers and campaign records.
92 GO QUIETLY or else
This is how the authors of Heartbeat described the young law-
yers' clever tactics: "Enough was requested—personal bank
records and tax returns— to suck him in; when he complied, the
prosecutors hoped, they could hit him with a second request for
more incriminating material" (italics mine). Actually, there was
no material I would have refused them, because nothing in my
possession incriminated me in any way.
The prosecutors realized that the great, gaping hole in their
case against me was their lack of proof that I had ever converted
to my personal use any of the thousands of dollars which were
supposedly illegally given to me. At their request. Internal Rev-
enue agents began swarming everywhere, collecting the tiniest
bits of information about everyone the Agnew family had ever
had contact with since I was county executive. My attorneys
estimated there were as many as two hundred agents all across
the country working on my case at one time or another. They
were trying to build a net-worth case to show that like Matz and
Wolff, I had been spending money lavishly, making big invest-
ments, and otherwise showing expenditures far above my re-
ported income. Unfortunately for the zealous investigators, they
could not find any such evidence, nor any secret cache of cash
because I had none: no such thing existed. And if there was no
corroboration of the tainted testimony that I had received these
bribes, the case against me would collapse.
Nevertheless, the charges against me would serve their pur-
pose: they would smear my reputation, ruin my public image,
and prove devastating to my hopes of becoming President.
It is clear to me now in retrospect that the White House was
tipped off in advance: they knew Richardson would authorize
release of the letter from George Beall to me stating I was under
investigation. Richardson told General Haig some time in late
July the Justice Department was moving against me. The At-
torney General knew that, when he told General Haig, he was
in effect telling the President. Until much later I did not know
Haig knew about the letter before I did. They were playing a
double game.
At three o'clock in the afternoon of August 1, 1973, Judd Best
arrived at George Beall's office in Baltimore and received the letter
that made me the first Vice-President in United States history
to be officially placed under criminal investigation.
 THE POINT OF NO RETURN 93

United States Department of Justice

UNITED STATES ATTORNEY
DISTRICT OF MARYLAND
405 UNITED STATES COURT HOUSE
FAYETTE AND CALVERT STREETS
BALTIMORE, MARYLAND 21202

August 1, 1973

Judah Best, Esquire

1735 New York Avenue, N. W.
Washington, D. C. 20006
Re: Spire T. Agnew
Dear Mr. Best:
This office is now conducting an investigation of allega-
tions concerning possible violations by your client and
others of federal criminal statutes, including but not
limited to Section 371 (conspiracy). Section 1951 (ex-
tortion), and Section 1952 (extortion and bribery) of
Title 18, United States Code, and certain criminal pro-
visions of the tax laws of the United States (Title 26,
United States Code).
It is possible that your client may choose to cooperate
with this investigation. It is, therefore, the purpose of this
letter to invite your client, or his authorized representa-
tive, to produce and deliver to this ofiice on either Tues-
day, August 7, 1973, or Thursday, August 9, 1973, at
10:00 in the morning or 2:00 in the afternoon, whichever
is more convenient for your client, the following ma-
terials, to the extent that such materials are now in or
under his actual or constructive possession, dominion, or
control:
(a) All bank statements, cancelled checks, check
vouchers, check stubs, check books, deposit tickets, and
savings account books (a copy of any active savings
account book will be sufficient), for any and all check-
ing and savings bank accounts in the United States and
elsewhere in which your client has or had any bene-
94 GO QUIETLY or else
ficial interest or over which he has or had any control
for the period January 1, 1967, to the present;
(b) Any and all retained copies of federal and state
income tax returns for the period January 1, 1967, to
the present.
I would appreciate your notifying me personally, on or
before Monday, August 6, 1973, as to whether or not
your client chooses to accept the invitation tendered by
this letter.
In view of the serious nature of the allegations now
under investigation by this office, any production of ma-
terials by your client, or his authorized representative,
pursuant to this invitation must be completely voluntary
on his part. Your client should understand that under the
Fifth Amendment to the United States Constitution, he
has a right not to produce the requested materials if
he believes that the materials might tend to incriminate
him. He should also understand that, should he choose
to produce materials, they could be used against him in a
criminal case, should any charges be returned naming
him as a defendant.
I await your reply.
Very truly yours,
(signed)
George Beall
United States Attorney

I felt frustrated and helpless.

There was a terrible cumulative weight in the chain of circum-
stances against my interest that were piling up in all quarters:
the President's mounting problems with Watergate, a hostile
Attorney General, hostile prosecutors, a mostly unfriendly news
media. I was beset by an ideologically attimed group of people
who were all against me on the basis of my beliefs and the way
I was conducting my public responsibilities, and most of them
would profit by my destruction. They wanted to wreck my life.
It was a frightening situation. All of a sudden my enemies
found in their hands a weapon to get rid of me. Subsequent
events proved they did not hesitate to use it.
 CHAPTER EIGHT

WE THINK YOU SHOULD RESIGN

In early August 1973, I found myself in a strange and danger-

ous situation that had never before confronted a Vice-President
of the United States.
I was locked in battle with high officials at the Department of
Justice and the White House— officials of the same adminis-
tration Iserved. These brothers were determined to force me
out of ofiice without even bothering to question the quality of
the evidence against me developed by a hostile prosecuting team
in Baltimore.
Gen. Alexander Haig, who had virtually become the de facto
President for all other matters while Richard Nixon struggled
desperately to escape the entangling web of Watergate, appar-
ently arrogated unto himself certain judgments that made the
administration's commitment to my departure from the vice-
presidency irreversible.
By late July, Elliot Richardson had been ready to seek the
President's approval to proceed formally against me. He wanted
permission to authorize the prosecutors to notify me by letter
that I was under investigation for serious crimes, and he asked
Haig for an appointment with Mr. Nixon for that purpose.* Once
such a letter was sent, it was certain to be discovered by the
press— and the President's control over the case would vanish.
Haig stalled him on the appointment, even though he knew
its purpose, for several days. Richardson decided to go ahead
without the President's permission, and did. The letter was de-
livered to my attorney and five days later, leaked to the press.
I am convinced that Haig did not want Nixon to be confronted
with the need to make a clear decision on that letter. The Presi-
* The letter was subsequently delivered to Judd Best on August 1, as de-
tailed in the preceding chapter.

95
96 GO QUIETLY or else
dent wanted to maintain the fiction that he was supporting me,
and I presume Richardson was passed a quiet signal to do the
dirty work on his own. In this way, Mr. Nixon could avoid
alienating my supporters.
Moreover, after the letter was leaked, Richardson was finally
allowed to brief the President before I was given a chance to say
a word in my defense. As the reader will see from what follows,
Haig had no intention of allowing me to be heard at all.
Under the general's orders, Richardson first called presidential
attorneys J. Fred Buzhardt and Leonard Garment to his home
on Sunday, August 5, and informed them of the testimony
against me. This was the first time the White House lawyers had
learned any details of the case; the Justice Department had de-
liberately kept the President and his men in the dark until the
point of no return had been passed, for fear they might help me
prepare my defense or even direct Richardson to drop the case.
A Heartbeat Away frankly states that by writing the formal
letter informing me I was under "criminal investigation," the
prosecutors had succeeded in their intention of cutting off any
possibility that the President "might try to quash the whole
enterprise." Therefore, the authors say, the issue for Nixon be-
came not "how the investigation could be derailed, but how
Agnew could bethat
The control compelled to resign."
an incumbent administration retains over a
potential prosecution until the very last moment is designed to
safeguard the rights of an accused person. It is not accidental,
but fundamental to our system of justice. However, it can be
destroyed by the enormous impact of adverse and prejudicial
publicity. That is why criminal investigations are required to be
conducted in secrecy, and it is also why Richardson and the
"Gang of Four" made no serious effort to control the misinforma-
tion and leaks in my case until the damage had been done.
An excellent example of control properly exercised took place
in the investigation of the federal Rayburn Office Building scan-
dal by U. S. Attorney Steve Sachs, George Beall's immediate
predecessor. The federal grand jury in Baltimore actually recom-
mended indictments in that case against Victor Frenkil, the con-
tractor. Implicated in the mess were Sen. Russell Long and the
late Congressman Hale Boggs of Louisiana. Attorney General
John Mitchell refused to authorize the signing of the indictment
 WE THINK YOU SHOULD RESIGN 97

and the case was abandoned. I am sure Mitchell concluded that

Long and Boggs would be wrongfully ruined by tainted testi-
mony, so he refused to allow the case to proceed.
After being briefed by the Justice men, Buzhardt and Garment
recommended to Nixon that I be forced to quit. He had their
briefing paper on his desk on Monday when Richardson came
in and laid out the case against me.
Richardson later commented:
The President appeared to be ready to believe it. His
reaction was remarkably objective and deliberate . . .
He was disturbed and concerned with the correctness of
any action or anything he did or did not do. At first he
thought he ought to have an independent assessment of
the evidence from Henry Petersen and me, on the basis
of which he could then decide whether or not the situ-
ation called for Agnew's resignation. He later concluded
that he ought not to try to be fully informed about the
state of the evidence, and that his position ought to be
more insulated ... It was ordered that Petersen would
assess it.

Nixon says in his Memoirs, "I knew that we were dealing with
political dynamite and that I had to be scrupulously care-
ful . . ." The President had already received word from John
Mitchell that I believed Richardson was out to get me, and that
I was convinced the Attorney General saw himself as my po-
tential rival for the presidency.
"Objectively I recognized the weight of Richardson's evidence,
but emotionally I was still on Agnew's side," Nixon writes. "I
wanted to believe him. I told Richardson that I expected him
to assume full responsibility for seeing to it that Agnew was not
railroaded by biased U. S. Attorneys and a predatory press corps."
As soon as the Attorney General returned to his office, he re-
ceived atelephone call from General Haig. Haig ordered him to
see me immediately and show me the full scope of the case that
had been built against me. Then Haig telephoned me to tell me
that the President had directed the Attorney General to call on me
that afternoon to outline the evidence. I later learned through a
Justice Department memo that the White House hoped that this
presentation would frighten me into resigning at once. That
98 GO QUIETLY or else
would have rescued Nixon from a political predicament.
At 3:15 that Monday afternoon, the Attorney General strode
into my suite in the Old Executive Office Building. He seemed
even more stiff and starchy than I had remembered him from
previous encounters. The proper Bostonian was definitely hostile.
"I am here because the President asked me to come," he began.
"I would not have been here otherwise."
We went through the cold formalities. I introduced my lawyer,
Judd Best, and my new team of additional attorneys, Jay H.
Topkis and Martin London, of the Manhattan law firm of Paul,
Weiss, Rifkind, Wharton & Garrison. Both liberal Democrats,
Topkis and London did not share my political views. But they
proved to be tigers in defending me against the attempt to rail-
road me into prison. They had a long-standing and fundamental
distrust of Richard Nixon that served me better than I realized
at the time.
From the very outset, Richardson treated me, not as the Vice-
President of the United States, but as a criminal. He would not
show me any of his "evidence" nor let me read anything. He
simply sketched the bare bones of the case against me and
emphasized how serious he thought it was.
Richardson said Lester Matz and Allen Green could testify
that they had paid money "directly to the Vice-President"; that
Matz would say he made one payment after I had become Vice-
President in regard to some work for the federal government;
that Green alleged periodic payments while I was governor and
later, the most recent one "at a family Christmas gathering in
1972." Six or eight other engineers had made payments, he said,
"which they believed were intended for the Vice-President"
when I had been governor, through J. Walter Jones or Bud
Hammerman. He insisted that these cash donations were re-
garded bythe donors not simply as gifts or political contributions,
but as necessary to obtain county or state business. Richardson
said Jerome B. Wolff could testify that he regularly submitted a
list of architects and engineers eligible for state contracts from
which I, as governor, would select primarily those who had
made such contributions.
I listened to this farrago of lies with rising indignation. It was
all I could do to restrain my temper and maintain my composure
 WE THINK YOU SHOULD RESIGN 99

in the face of these outrageous accusations. "The whole thing

is a fabrication," I said, "and Matz is crazy."
It was a normal thing, I explained, for the Governor of Mary-
land to select architects and engineers for state jobs; that had
been done by every governor in every administration for many
years. I also said these businessmen had always made con-
tributions for political purposes, in most cases to the Democrats
who usually controlled the state government. When in 1966 I
became one of Maryland's few Republican governors, the same
engineers transferred their attentions to me because I was then
in a position to hand out the jobs they wanted. Of course, I
would give the jobs to my friends whenever they were fully
qualified to do the work; why on earth should I give them to my
enemies?
I did not run after these men; they ran after me. I recalled
that Green had been introduced to me by the late U. S. Sen. J.
Glenn Beall, Sr., the prosecutor's father. Every time Green had
seen me, it was at his own insistence. He was constantly seeking
my help; I had a thick file of his requests, which I had turned
down because they were unreasonable or improper. We had no
conversations about kickbacks— ever.
As for Lester Matz and his professed friendship, I said, I had
seen him about four times in my five years as Vice-President.
"He has constantly been thundering to get in," I said, "and crying
that he has not been able to get any help."
Without mincing words, I told Richardson that I had no
confidence whatever in Beall. He was weak and inexperienced
and had lost control of his office to his zealous assistants. He had
let these arrogant youngsters run wild. I therefore asked that the
case be transferred to an experienced, professional, independent
prosecutor who would view the charges objectively, without
prejudice. Richardson refused. He expressed total confidence in
his Baltimore team.
Judd Best also complained that the prosecutors were using
high-handed tactics and threats to make reluctant witnesses talk.
One of their favorite tricks was to tell them, "You'd better get
on the boat or it will be leaving without you." Another was to
say, "Talk, or you'll be indicted." Faced with such frightening
threats and the prospect of prison, a witness would say anything.
100 GO QUIETLY or else
Best also protested that Assistant U. S. Attorney Baker had
said at a cocktail party, "We're breathing down Agnew's neck."
Best said the prosecutors treated me with contempt, calling me
"Agnew" rather than "Mr. Agnew" or "the Vice-President." This
may seem like a trivial thing, but it was not; it clearly reflected
their arrogance and bias.
I demanded to know why the prosecutors believed I had col-
lected all the thousands of dollars in payments alleged by the
lying witnesses when my complete financial data, which I had
willingly turned over to them, would clearly show that I had no
great wealth. Most of my modest assets were invested in the
house I had recently bought in the Maryland suburbs of Wash-
ington—the government did not provide me with a free residence,
as it has done for subsequent Vice-Presidents, so I had to furnish
my own. The General Services Administration paid only for
minor changes in the house to provide separate facilities for the
Secret Service and for protective alterations required by them.
Incredibly, the government is still trying to charge me for those
expenses, too, in spite of the fact the Secret Service occupied at
least 25 percent of the house and has never paid a penny of the
rent they had agreed to.
I said the letter delivered to me on August 1, demanding out-
rageously detailed personal data within six days, came to me
totally without warning. To put together the information would
take weeks. It seemed clear that the prosecutors were trying to
throw together a case— and Richardson had admitted they did
not have sufficient corroborative evidence— so that they could
rush it to a grand jury. I told Richardson he must realize that
an indictment would mean my destruction, the end of a career
I had built up through fifteen years of struggle. His cold, totally
unsympathetic attitude while relating this screed let me know
immediately that I was dealing with a closed mind, a mind
operating within the rule that the end justified the means.
Topkis observed that if there were ever a need for a special
prosecutor removed from any political role in the same state as
the accused official, it was this one. But Richardson replied, "It
is not at all clear to me that this is so." He would not agree to that,
but he would request Henry Petersen, the Assistant Attorney
General, "to make an independent assessment of the evidence."
London asked for a more specific summary of the charges, or
 WE THINK YOU SHOULD RESIGN 101

much more than the vague outhne given to us so far. Richardson

demurred. He admitted that "various potentially corroborative
steps had not been taken— for example, to check on whether a
meeting had taken place at the time and place on which a witness
said it occurred." My lawyers and I were amazed to hear the
Attorney General thus admit that he had accepted the witnesses'
charges without bothering to begin even the preliminary steps of
corroboration. Richardson explained that he was trying to "avoid
leaks" and preserve the secrecy of the inquiry. In light of the
cascade of leaks that later came pouring out of the Justice De-
partment, view
I that weak excuse with grim amusement.
As Richardson left my ofBce, he said he would have Petersen
review the entire case and then call my lawyers about the next
move.
The Attorney General had failed in his mission. He had not
panicked me into resigning on the spot. Proof of the real purpose
of his visit can be found in a Justice Department memorandum
written by Russell T. Baker, Jr., the next day, concerning a tele-
phone talk with George Beall.
Beall said Richardson's meeting with me had arisen from
^'pressure from the White House that was designed to force a
confrontation which would result in the Vice-President's resigna-
tion' (italics mine). "When the meeting did not produce the
desired result," the memorandum went on, "the White House
suggested that more detailed disclosures be made to the Vice-
President in the hopes that he would become convinced that
the case against him was so strong that he should resign."
Even today, when I review the irrefutable sequence of events,
I find it difficult to comprehend the callous self-interest which
dominated the actions of the White House at this point. Bear
in mind that the President had not granted my request to see
him. Without even an opportunity to be heard in my own defense,
I was to be jettisoned, a political weight too heavy to allow the
presidential plane— now laboring on its last engine— to remain
airborne. Yet at that point I never would have believed that
Richard Nixon, the man who thought loyalty the cardinal virtue,
would not stand strong and presidential behind his Vice-Pres-
ident. In retrospect, what had happened to Bob Haldeman should
have taught me better. How much influence General Haig had
on Mr. Nixon's decisions at this time I cannot say for sure, but
102 GO QUIETLY or else

the man at the top must remain accountable. And Nixon's in-
herent reluctance to face unpleasant confrontations makes my
attempted execution without a hearing not out of character.
Immediately after Richardson left my office, I renewed my
demands for an appointment to meet with the President and
tell him my side of the story. I was shocked and incensed because
Nixon didn't even call me. I was held off by his staff until word
came in the afternoon that the President had flown to Camp
David. Art Sohmer, my Chief of Staff, and I stayed in my office
waiting for a telephone call, expecting me to be asked to join the
President at his Maryland mountain retreat. We waited until
nearly nine o'clock that night, when finally Sohmer came in from
his office and said: "We have just learned that The Wall Street
Journal will break the story for tomorrow's edition. They have
Beall's letter, Jerry Landauer just read it to Marsh Thomson over
the phone."
"It had to come from Beall's office or someone at Justice," I
said. "We've got to see the President— right now."
"There's something else," said Sohmer. "We are not going to
Camp David. The President is sending Bryce Harlow here to see

you— tonight."
Harlow was one of the few men in the White House whom I
felt I knew well. He had been a close friend of President Eisen-
hower, a speech writer and counselor to both Eisenhower and
Nixon, and was regarded as one of the wisest men in the Re-
publican party. He was also in a small inner group of people
who had privately aligned themselves with me for the future. We
had been keeping the existence of this committee a closely held
secret. When the right time came for me to announce as a
candidate for President, Bryce would have been on my team.
So I felt I could trust him.
At 9:15 P.M., Harlow came into my office. He was accompanied
by General Haig. I sat behind my desk, facing Haig on my left,
Harlow on my right. They did not appear to be hostile. They
were troubled and serious and glum, and extremely ill at ease.
"Well," I asked, "when am I going to see the President?" They
said the President had been "floored by the news" of the charges
against me and had flown to Camp David to consider this latest
blow against the very survival of his administration. The Pres-
ident, they said, had sent them to talk to me about my case.
 WE THINK YOU SHOULD RESIGN 103

Richardson had briefed them on the prosecutors' version and

told them my indictment was "inevitable."
They went through a long recital about how hard it was for
the President, beset by enemies from every quarter, to govern;
what terrible complications I was causing for him; that my
problem was another straw on an overloaded camel's back. I
do not recall that either Haig or Harlow ever asked me, "Are
you guilty of these charges?'' They just beat around the bush,
talking about how bad the situation was.
Haig did most of the talking. He uttered a lot of words that
said very little, evidence that he had mastered the language of
the Washington bureaucracy. He spoke of "sustainable allega-
tions," "uncontrollable circumstances," "points of no return,"
"foreclosed options" and "the ability to carry out the respon-
sibilities ofthe Constitutional oflBce." I watched him intently,
fascinated by this virtuoso performance yet impatient for him
to get to the point. After Haig wound down, I looked at Bryce.
He just sat there and stared at me in total anguish. "This is a
national crisis," Harlow said. "Congress will undoubtedly act.
You will be impeached."
Finally, I asked: "What are you here to tell me? What do you
want?"
Haig said, "We think you should resign."
"Resign?" I fired back. "Without even having a chance to talk
to the President?"
"Yes, resign immediately," Haig said. "This case is so serious
there is no other way it can be resolved."
"Did the President send you down here to say that?" I asked.
"We are not here on our own," the General said. "We have
been with the President all evening at Camp David, thoroughly
discussing the matter. We came here to tell you that you should
resign— tonight."
"You mean the President wants me to resign right now?"
"Yes."
I became incensed. I stood up and began pacing the floor.
"This is ridiculous, to receive such a message second hand," I
said. "I'm not going to resign. Fm not going to do anything until
I see the President. I want to see him just as soon as I can."
Art Sohmer lost his temper, too, and some harsh words were
exchanged between him and the President's emissaries, who in
104 GO QUIETLY or else
eflFect had brought the traditional suicide pistol into my oflBce
and laid it on my desk.
Shortly thereafter, I ushered Haig and Harlow out of my
office. I was seething with rage, frustration, and despair. I could
not imagine that they could think I would resign without even
talking to the President and having at least a chance to defend
myself. Harlow knew better than that. I was disappointed in
him, because I had a very great affection for him— and I still do.
When I was in Washington in 1978 and found out he was
critically ill in a hospital, I sent him a handwritten note, saying
"the past is the past," and I wished him a speedy recovery.
It was even more disappointing to think that Mr. Nixon would
send two trusted associates to me with orders to shove me out
of the vice-presidency. Here was renewed evidence that he
strongly resisted dealing with any personal crisis on a man-to-
man basis. Apparently he could not bring himself to discuss this
personally with me, but hoped that his emissaries could quickly
get rid of this new problem that was adding to his Watergate
woes.
Looking back, I can see now that the White House strategists
must have told each other, in so many words, Agnew has got to
go, but we have to be careful not to anger his constituency in
Middle America. Send Richardson in to paint the blackest possible
picture. Afterward, let Agnew stew all day. Then send Harlow
and Haig to see him. He likes Harlow and trusts him. See if we
can't get the resignation now.
Haig and Harlow left me with the bitter conclusion that I was
definitely not part of the team. They were not concerned about
me. They were only worried about the President. I was just a
pawn on the chess board to be played in whatever way would
help Nixon to survive. The White House had ruled, "The Vice-
President is expendable."
On Tuesday, August 7, the newspapers broke the story about
"the criminal investigation of the Vice-President" and the flood
of media publicity began to engulf me. On the same day, I won
my appointment with the President. I went down to see him in
the hope that all was not lost— that in this hour of crisis, I could
convince him of my innocence and we could fight as a team
against our common enemies.
 CHAPTER NINE

NOTHING TO HIDE

Although Haig and Harlow claimed to speak for Richard

Nixon in demanding that I resign at once, I clung to the belief
that the President himself would help me when he heard my side
of the story in reply to the version peddled to him so persuasively
by Elliot Richardson. Furthermore, I felt that Mr. Nixon at least
owed me an objective view of the evidence out of loyalty, since
I had never run out on him. I had been totally faithful to him
through five stormy years of our adversaries' attacks on issues
ranging from the Vietnam War to domestic violence, so he
should be equally loyal to me.
I had staunchly defended him on Watergate, despite all the
testimony that poured forth against him day after day in the
Senate committee hearings of that awful summer of 1973. I
thought Mr. Nixon had been unjustly maligned, that he had been
victimized by some ambitious people in the Committee to Re-
Elect the President; and that it was out of fidelity to his aides
that he was not forthcoming about everything. I really did not
think he had any knowledge about the Watergate cover-up, but
in view of the revelations on his own tapes, I now realize that he
did. He admits it in his Memoirs.
It was the cover-up more than the inept, amateurish breaking
in at the Democratic headquarters that destroyed Richard
Nixon's presidency. I do not believe that the President was
called on to authorize or that he even knew in advance about
the burglary. The details of what the Committee to Re-Elect the
President was doing had been carefully separated from the
official duties of the President, because opponents were ever alert
to the impropriety of mixing politics with official duties. Where
the President mishandled the matter was in not acting decisively
to investigate at once and expose any White House involvement.
105
106 GO QUIETLY or else
He then could have acted selectively to discharge, reprimand, or
defend those accused, according to the degree of their involve-
ment. The public— far more objective than most of us believe—
would have placed the proper weight on the crime, and the
Nixon haters would have had no opportunity to construct day
by day the image of a dishonest, sneaky individual, running
until cornered. I never did think the break-in at a party head-
quarters byunsupervised subordinates was a big enough crime
to drive a President out of office. Certainly, such wrongs should
be punished, but it is common knowledge that party offices have
been wiretapped and broken into in the past by political oppo-
nents looking for some last-minute edge to assure or turn an
election. Never, in such cases, were the candidates themselves
held accountable for the breaking and entering.
It is known now that Lyndon Johnson put me under surveil-
lance in October 1968, when he thought I had been in contact
with President Thieu through Anna Chennault. He feared Nixon
was trying to keep South Vietnam from going along with his ef-
forts to end the Vietnam War before the election on terms which
President Thieu considered unsatisfactory. I did not learn about
it until the truth came out several years later, but I did not resent
it. If I had been President and had had the same suspicions as
Lyndon Johnson, I might have done the same thing, as a national
security measure. Naturally I disliked the intrusion on my pri-
vacy, and if Johnson had checked on me for political or personal
reasons, it would have been absolutely wrong. But the national
security purpose, when it is legitimate and clearly defined, super-
sedes everything else— and surveillance for that reason is justified.
After all, if we don't save our country from its enemies, we won't
have any rights at all.
The real reason for the Watergate break-in is still a mystery
to me. It was a stupid blunder and ten times compounded by the
administration's foolish attempts to cover it up. Nixon himself
did not expect it to turn out to be such a serious issue. He did
not realize until too late how badly his opponents wanted to find
anything at all to drive him out of office. Having been beaten at
the polls in the crushing defeat of the McGovern-Shriver ticket,
the left-wingers determined to reverse the election results by
forcing Nixon out of the presidency by a process which amounted
 NOTHING TO HmE 107

to a coup d'etat. However, they would have gained nothing by

kicking out Nixon only to have me come into power as his suc-
cessor. They knew that I was more of a conservative than he was
on major domestic and foreign policy issues. They had reason to
think I would have slowed down the drift toward accommoda-
tion-at-any-cost with the Soviet Union and the People's Republic
of China. To quote an old colloquial expression, replacing Nixon
with me would have been "swapping the devil for the witch." So
to make their revolution a success, they had to get rid of me first.
I believed that once Nixon realized the ultimate purpose of the
attack on me, he would see we were in this fight together; and
that if our enemies killed off one of us politically, they would
then concentrate on destroying the other. The President, being
Commander in Chief and head of the executive establishment,
still had great power and he could help me, if he would.
So I still harbored much hope when the President received me
on August 7 in his hideaway, the suite of rooms just below mine
in the Old Executive Office Building. Here, Mr. Nixon liked to
slump down in an easy chair, prop his feet up on a hassock, read,
and meditate. It was one of his private havens away from the
furors of the West Wing.
He greeted me warmly at the door and led me to an easy chair,
talking all the while about inconsequentials so as not to allow the
gaps in conversation he found so uncomfortable. When we were
seated, the monologue continued, mainly about his meeting with
Richardson and the briefing that Richardson had given him
about my problems. He seemed sympathetic and solicitous-
indignant about the investigation in Baltimore. He said he under-
stood the pressures on a governor to raise money for the ticket,
and he understood where and how that money had to be raised.
During all this, I had no opportunity to do other than briefly
interject a word of agreement or a nod of understanding.
When he finally subsided, it no longer seemed appropriate to
talk about the abrupt resignation request conveyed by Haig and
Harlow the night before.
I expressed my concern about testimony obtained by promises
of immunity, especially in cases heavily affected by politics.
The President said he would caution the Justice Department
about that.
108 GO QUIETLY or else
I complained about the obvious delight of the Baltimore Four
that they were successfully entangling me in their investigation.
He said, "It's terrible. It's horrible."
"Can him
assured you Ifunction
could. effectively as Vice-President?" he asked. I
I laid out the fundamental problem that we just did not seem
able to get across to Richardson and to the White House lawyers
—who considered this an "open-and-shut case"— that the evidence
was not "irrefutable" and that there was no independent cor-
roboration.
"All they've got," I said, "is the testimony of a few men who
have done business together for years. They were caught in a
tax evasion problem and they saw a hell of a good way to extri-
cate themselves from it by dragging me in."
I told the President that the Matz, Childs engineers had tes-
tified about paying back their bonuses to Matz; and the net-worth
checkup had shown that Matz and Jerome Wolff had spent thou-
sands of dollars for which they could not account except by say-
ing they gave the money to politicians. I noted that Matz and
Wolff had been implicated by Baltimore County Administrative
Officer Fornoff, who was caught by a wiretap receiving payments
for county contracts. Fornoff was employed in the same capacity
when I was county executive, but had testified he received no
kickbacks during my time. Also that Paul Gaudreau, one of the
most important contractors involved in the Fornoff case, had
said in his statement to the prosecutors that he was never asked
for money in all the time he had done business with the county
while I was the executive. Fornoff had said the same thing; both
cleared me completely.
Now, the prosecutors did have a real "open-and-shut case"
against these witnesses, who had, in their expensive life-styles,
spent a lot of money unreported as income and were caught cold
on tax evasion charges. After Fornoff pleaded guilty and accused
them of payoffs, they had to admit being involved. It was then
that Matz claimed he gave money to me I told Mr. Nixon. Jerry
Wolff never said he personally knew of any payoffs to me; he
simply reported a scheme that Bud Hammerman, whom he later
implicated, had told him about.
Assuming for the sake of discussion that payments were made,
I told the President, there was still no proof the money went into
 NOTHING TO HIDE 109

my pocket. It was just my word against Hammerman's in one

case; my word against Green's in another; and my word against
Matz's in another; there was nothing to refute in Wolff's state-
ment because he said he had no direct knowledge about any
money given to me. Moreover, all these people knew each other
well; lived in the same neighborhood; had done business to-
gether; and had undoubtedly been in close contact with each
other since this investigation began.
After Fornoff's plea, the accused men were facing jail, I con-
tinued. When Kaplan had brought my name into the matter, they
were urged by the prosecutors to say that some of the unac-
counted-for money had gone to me. I was convinced, I told him,
that the prosecutors made it clear to them, "If you will just
deliver Agnew to us, things will be a lot easier for you"; and I
was convinced that their lawyers had told them, "You're caught
but you have a powerful bargaining tool— the Vice-President of
the United States." Richardson, I said, had backed up the gov-
ernment lawyers in Baltimore from the first day they brought
Weiner's story to him. He trusted them, but not me.
"I don't think I'm getting a fair shake out of Richardson," I
told the President. "I want an independent review of the case."
"Maybe these people are trying to railroad you, as you say,"
the President said. "I know you don't have any confidence in
Richardson." He laughed morosely. "I've had my troubles with
him, too. Look, I'll tell you what; I'm going to appoint Henry
Petersen to take this thing over and do an independent review
of everything that has been done and report back to me. He's a
very fair man, a real professional, and I have confidence in his
integrity."
Because Richardson had mentioned Petersen at the meeting
in my ofiice the day before, I was a little surprised that Nixon
acted as if the thought had just struck him. However, I desper-
ately wanted to believe the President had been persuaded I was
not being treated fairly and that he wanted to rectify that. If
Mr. Nixon, with all his Watergate troubles, believed Petersen was
unprejudiced and objective, then I wanted to believe that, also.
"Well," I said, "if you think he's a fair man— fine."
Just before I left, I informed the President I was going to hold
a press conference the following day, to defend myself before
the American people against the outrageous leaks that were
110 GO QUIETLY or else
appearing with increasing frequency in the news media. He was
less than enthusiastic about that, probably because he was being
excoriated for dodging the press, but he contented himself with
cautioning me against making any statements that might hurt me
later.
During the whole time I was in the hideaway not once was
there the slightest suggestion that I should consider resignation.
In spite of the Haig-Harlow visit the night before, I felt there
was no need for me to bring up the subject.
After an hour and a half with the President, I went out of his
ofiBce feeling a surge of hope. I remember telephoning Bud Ham-
merman and Walter Jones, who were then being pressured be-
yond belief to testify against me: "Petersen is going to be taking
a new look at this case. I think you can look forward to fairer
treatment now, because he has the reputation of being thor-
oughly same
On that professional.''
August 7, Petersen testified before the Senate
committee about his role in the Watergate break-in case. He had
been criticized heavily for not having pursued the investigation
thoroughly; he was smarting over the charge that he had
bungled it.
The Justice Department files show that at 8:45 p.m., Petersen
answered a telephone call at his home. The President was calling
to congratulate him on his performance before Sen. Sam Ervin's
committee. "You did a good job; you did exactly right in telling
it straight out," Nixon said.
Then the President began discussing "the Agnew matter" and
said he was certain Petersen would do a very careful job. All he
wanted, he said, was the truth; but he was very much concerned
that persons who had been receiving or making payments "would
be immunized in order to make a case against the Vice-Presi-

dent."
Nixon told Petersen to be especially careful about the type of
persons to be immunized. "When you are dealing with the Vice-
President," he said, "you are not deahng with a Boston politician."
Nixon's remarks, as quoted in the memorandum which Petersen
sent to Richardson, indicate that the President had been im-
pressed by my warnings to him against immunizing witnesses
who would tell lies about me in hopes of staying out of jail.
Although surrounded by men who were pressuring him to hustle
 NOTHING TO HIDE 111

me out of the vice-presidency, Mr. Nixon apparently was trying

to give me a chance to be saved.
Unfortunately, Petersen had a motive— that I didn't then rec-
ognize—for being less than objective in reviewing my case.
Having been ridiculed for flubbing the Watergate investigation,
he sought to restore his reputation as a fearless, competent prose-
cutor by being tough on me. Nixon was counting on Petersen to
be his friend inside the Justice Department and to protect him
against Richardson and his Harvard mafia. Too late, I found out
that I was tapped to be the source of Petersen's rehabilitation
and of Nixon's, too.
I have since learned from a review of the Justice Department's
own files that on August 7, Petersen suggested to Richardson
that a letter be written to me giving some details of the charges,
including "the companies involved and the manner of payment."
This letter, he said, would "put the ball in the Vice-President's
court and place him in such a position that he could never claim
that he was not given an opportunity to respond to the charges."
Petersen also said the President might want a full memo-
randum on the case and was entitled to have one in order to
decide his future actions. When George Beall left the meeting
with his Justice Department superiors and relayed their views
to his three zealous young assistants in Baltimore, they reacted
with a negative blast. Russell T. Baker, Jr., protested that to
provide more information to either the President or me would be
"a great mistake"; it would "weaken the case"; that "Agnew
would not resign."
Baker said further that in my confrontation with Richardson I
had already had my opportunity "to take the honorable course but
had, like most other politicians, claimed that the whole thing was
a frame-up." Baker's statement, which I obtained from the Jus-
tice Department's own records, is evidence of his obvious bias
against me.
Petersen joined in the telephone call to Baltimore and told
Baker "the extent of the White House pressure" for a letter
which would save the Attorney General from being forced to talk
to me again in person. Petersen also said the President, as the
senior political officer of the government, had a right to know all
the facts developed in the investigation so that he could properly
determine his future course— for example, "whether or not to force
112 GO QUIETLY or else

the Vice-President to resign or to take a hands-off attitude about

the whole thing."
Baker repeated the Baltimore prosecutors' strong objections
to sending anything in writing to the White House. Why should
the President know as much about this case as the Assistant U.S.
Attorneys in Baltimore? Who was he to have such information?
Beall came back on the telephone line. Baker told him, "We
are not raising the red flag of rebellion here in Baltimore, but we
are members of the team and we feel the team is making a very
serious error."
The next day, August 8, the Baltimore prosecutors met with
Petersen and Deputy Attorney General William D. Ruckelshaus
and repeated their protests against any more disclosures of evi-
dence to me or to the President. They wanted to continue treat-
ing me as if I were a common criminal. They had told the world,
through their carefully-leaked letter of August 1, that the Vice-
President of the United States was under "criminal investiga-
tion." They knew full well that the letter alone was enough to
besmirch my reputation. That is why they wrote it and leaked it
to the press. Now they fought fiercely to keep me from learning
anything more about their case, and they resisted informing even
the President. They must have been afraid to show Nixon that—
as I repeatedly charged— they had no corroboration but simply
the tainted evidence from the accusing witnesses. If they had
been forced to detail their evidence and to admit they had ob-
tained it by promises of immunity or freedom, the President
would have seen that I was right: that the case on its merits
would not stand up in court. It therefore became imperative, from
the prosecutors' standpoint, to keep Nixon in the dark.
On the afternoon of August 8, I presented my own defense to
the American people, with the strongest possible assertions of
innocence, at a press conference in an auditorium on the fourth
floor of the Old Executive Office Building:
"Because of defamatory statements that are being leaked to
the news media by sources that the news reports refer to as close
to the investigation," I began, "I cannot adhere to my original
intention to remain silent following my initial statement a few
days ago, which asserted my innocence and which indicated I
would have nothing further to say until the investigation was
completed.
 NOTHING TO HIDE 113

"Under normal circumstances, the traditional safeguard of

secrecy under such proceedings would protect the subject. But
apparently this protection is not to be extended to the Vice-
President of the United States.
"Well, I have no intention to be skewered in this fashion. And
since I have no intention to be so skewered, I called this press
conference, to label as false and scurrilous and malicious these
rumors, these assertions and accusations that are being circu-
lated and to answer your questions regarding them, and any
other questions that I might be able to answer concerning the
general situation."
Almost the first crack out of the box, some reporter brought up
the story that I had received a thousand dollars a week in kick-
backs.* "Do you deny the charges?" he asked.
"I am denying them outright and I am labeling them— and I
think a person in my position at a time like this might be per-

retorted.mitted this departure from normal language— as damned lies," I

"Mr. Vice-President," someone else asked, "have you ever

received money for your personal use from any person, con-
tractor, doing business with the state of Maryland or the federal

government?"
My answer: "Absolutely not. I've been aware, through rumor,
of this investigation since February," 1 said. "Friends of mine
have indicated to me that there have been rumors in the cock-
tail circuit that various allegations coming out of the investiga-
tion have mentioned my name." So, I recalled hiring Judd Best
as my counsel in April, and that he told the prosecutor I would
"in no way attempt to impede the investigation." I also remem-
bered that U.S. Attorney George Beall specifically told Best I
was by no means a target of the inquiry. Yet on August 2, my

* On August 7, Knight Newspapers under the by-line of Saul Friedman, a

friend of Barnet Skolnik, broke a sensational story that was picked up in
headlines by such prominent newspapers as The Chicago Tribune. The story
alleged that a close friend and former aide of mine was helping the prose-
cutors track down allegations that a thousand dollars per week was being
funneled to me from contractors when I was Baltimore County executive
and that the payments may have continued after I became Vice-President.
These ridiculous assertions were later dropped by the prosecutors, but the
damage had already been done. I believe Friedman got this information
from Skolnik.
114 GO QUIETLY or else

attorney handed me the prosecutors' letter that I was under

investigation.
A few hours before the press conference, White House Deputy
Press Secretary Gerald Warren had told newsmen there was "no
reason for the President to change his confidence in the Vice-
President." Asked if I considered that an ample vote of confi-
dence, Ireplied, "Although I welcome the President's support, I
think the ofiice of the Vice-President is an important enough one
that the man has to stand on his own feet. So I'm not spending
my time looking around to see who's supporting me. I'm defend-
ing myself."
Some of the reporters could not understand why the Mary-
land U.S. Attorney, a Republican, would be going after the Vice-
President in a Republican administration. I could not explain
why the Justice Department was leaking so many stories against
me, either. "I have no knowledge of who is leaking this informa-
tion," Isaid. "As you ladies and gentlemen know, one of the
things the press does best is protect its sources. I could not com-
ment in response to the motives of the individuals because I don't
know who they are. I would say this: the accusations that are
being made, if they do come from people who are also under
investigation, must be looked at as accusations coming from
those who have found themselves in very deep trouble, who are
looking to extricate themselves from this trouble and are flirting
with the idea that they can obtain immunity or reduced charges,
perhaps, by doing so."
When asked, "Have you ever had a political slush fund fi-
nanced by a Baltimore County contractor?" I answered. No.
When asked if the campaign records would include gifts from
Maryland contractors, I replied, "I would suspect that they do
because anyone who's been around the political scene in the
United States, who would expect that campaign contributions
don't come from contractors doing state and federal business, is
quite naive.
"I had some people who were in the engineering business who
were longtime friends and political supporters," I said. "I did
not ever have any financial transactions with these people. I did
consult with them. I did listen to their complaints. I did allow
them access, as most political figures do, to persons who are sup-
portive oftheir political campaigns."
 NOTHING TO HmE 115

I recalled that several years previously, I had been offered a

bribe but delayed reporting it because "I was very inexperienced
and quite uninformed about such matters at the time." I thought
it had occurred w^hile I was the Baltimore County Executive, and
was running for governor in the summer of 1966.
Frank H. Newell, the former county attorney, later confirmed
that I had told him I was offered two hundred thousand dollars
in campaign contributions if as governor I would help to keep
slot machines legal in four Maryland counties, where they were
supposed to be eliminated by 1968 under an act of the legisla-
ture.
Newell ridiculed my report because I refused to give him the
names of the people who had relayed the message to me. I ex-
plained that the offer was relayed to me by people not involved in
the slot machine business who themselves were innocent, and I
didn't want them to be hurt. Newell claimed my report was "a
hoax, political tomfoolery." But I knew better. The truth is that
all sorts of special interests persuade individuals who are politi-
cally close to Maryland governors to suggest the signing or veto-
ing of bills that would affect their interests. It is also true that
generous gifts are often proposed. But, I repeat, I never accepted
such offers, and I never made a decision against the welfare
of the people of Maryland or the people of the United States.
I said at my press conference that I had "no expectation of
being indicted" and no intention of stepping down, even tem-
porarily, until these charges were cleared up. "I have nothing to
hide," I said.
Someone asked if the accusations against me would hurt my
prospects for winning the presidency in 1976. "I am not really
thinking about that right now," I replied. "I am thinking about
having my innocence affirmed."
Moments after I ended my half-hour news conference, tele-
grams and telephone calls began pouring into my offices. They
ran overwhelmingly in my favor, as Americans across the land
congratulated me upon my strong defense of my own integrity.
One Western Union employee said it was "a mountain of tele-
grams," and my press secretary called it "a hurricane of paper."
The messages reassured me that, in spite of all my enemies, my
friends still believed in me. Their encouragement gave me new
heart to carry on my fight which had to be waged against foes
inside my own party's administration.
 CHAPTER TEN
FIRST ONE IN GETS THE BEST DEAL

My defiant refusal to be pressured into an instant resignation

rocked Elliot Richardson back on his heels. He realized that de-
spite all his claims of an airtight case against me, he could not
be sure of winning it in court. He probably could have persuaded
a grand jury to indict me; the prosecutors usually control the
grand jury and bring in only witnesses they have carefully
coached— often in return for promises of leniency hinting at im-
munity—and the accused person cannot have a lawyer present to
cross-examine them.
Since Attorney General Richardson had only tainted evidence
against me, he met on the evening of August 9 with Henry Peter-
sen and the Baltimore prosecutors, and told them— according to
his own Justice Department's records— to make sure they were
building an airtight case. He prodded them to move towards the
goal of an indictment in mid-September. I could be first indicted
on charges of bribery, extortion, and conspiracy, and later— if he
found any evidence— there could be a second indictment on
charges of tax evasion. Always in Richardson's mind was the
gnawing fear that Richard Nixon would soon have to leave the
presidency, so I must be knocked out of the line of succession
before it was too late.
My lawyers, Jay Topkis and Martin London, had met with
Henry Petersen and his deputy, Philip T. White, and said I would
cooperate by granting an interview, making a deposition, or pos-
sibly even appearing before the grand jury. I agreed to turn over
my personal financial statements after a reasonable period of time
to assemble them. If I had been engaged in all the tcrri])l(^
schemes alleged by my accusers, those documents would have
been devastating. They would have shown a net-worth bulge
116
 FIRST ONE IN GETS THE BEST DEAL 117

impossible to cover up. But I had no inexplicable net-worth in-

crease; and I had no money obtained illegally.
On August 10, Richardson suffered another setback. Henry
Petersen called in Plato Cacheris, the lawyer for J. Walter Jones,
in an effort to persuade Cacheris's client, my staunch friend, to
testify against me. Jones had received a letter from the U. S. At-
torney's office saying he was under investigation in connection
with his political fund-raising activities. The letter from Beall to
Cacheris offered "limited immunity," saying Jones's testimony and
documents would not be used against him ^'directly or indirectly,
in any criminal case, even should such disclosure constitute evi-
dence of crimes committed by him."
The prosecutors were eager to enlist Jones; they had to get a
respected businessman not associated with the tight little cabal
of accused engineers to lend respectability to their case. They
needed a friend of mine who had no tax problems and was less
likely to be charged with sacrificing me to save himself. But the
prosecutors had nothing against Jones except the statements of
some witnesses in the Dale Anderson case who called the banker

a "bag man" for me in Baltimore County. Jones, from the days of

my campaign for County Executive, had been one of my prin-
cipal fund-raisers. He was a member of my finance committee,
along with George White and Bud Hammerman, when I ran for
Governor of Maryland in 1966. During the presidential campaign
he was a regional finance chairman for the Nixon-Agnew ticket
under Maury Stans.
There is no doubt that whatever job Walter Jones undertakes
he does it thoroughly and does it well. He was an enthusiastic,
aggressive seeker of campaign contributions. Knowing the Mary-
land politico-business community as he did, he was impatient
when offered excuses instead of contributions by people who
were giving lip service to my campaign and who, he knew, had
given heavily in past (and in some cases the same) campaigns.
Whether his efforts are for politics or for charity, an aggressive
fund-raiser does not endear himself to the people he is "putting
the arm on." Walter was no exception.
So it was hardly surprising that when the Baltimore prosecu-
tors began to interrogate potential witnesses in the contractor-
professional community, using the disgraceful heavy-handed
techniques so dear to Skolnik and Baker, a few of the hard-
118 GO QUIETLY or else
pressed and intimidated selected Walter Jones as a convenient
escape valve.
The prosecutors made no secret to these potential witnesses
that I w^as the target of the investigation. The witnesses knew
Jones was their only link to me— their release from the trouble
that the "Gang of Four" assured them they would most certainly
be in if they didn't cooperate. They probably rationalized that
because Jones had pressured them, how did they know the money
he collected did not go for kickbacks to me?
When Jones's lawyer, Plato Cacheris, was presented with the
allegations that his client was a "bag man" for me and had the
choice of testifying against me or going to jail, he related the op-
tions to his client. Jones knew they had no corroboration of
these lies and no income tax case against him. He flatly refused
to sell me out. He asserted his own innocence and his confidence

in mine. Through Cacheris, he categorically denied Matz's wild

tale of a payoff to me in my vice-presidential office. Jones had
been present on the day of that alleged payment and knew it had
never happened. He would not provide evidence against me, his
lawyer said, because "it would not be true."
Cacheris also warned the Justice Department that the witnesses
against me, notably Green, Matz and Wolff, were "people of not
the best reputation," and recalled how Matz and Wolff had de-
manded Istop the investigation of their financial problems or
else they would involve me in the mess. But the Assistant Attor-
ney General, my only hope for an unbiased review, had his mind
made up. Petersen told Cacheris to tell Jones that between him
and Hammerman, "First one in gets the best deal."
Of primary importance to the prosecutors was the need to es-
tablish atleast one of Matz's numerous fairy tales mentioned in
the Kaplan memo of June 22, 1973 (see Chapter Five). They
concluded, therefore, that on April 20, 1971, Matz paid twenty-
five hundred dollars cash to me in my vice-presidential office.
Matz had called Jones and complained that his requests to see
me had been ignored; that I had been treating him shabbily; that
I had not helped him to get any business from the federal gov-
ernment; that I had forgotten old friends. The complaints came
about because Jones had solicited him for a contribution for the
Nixon reelection campaign. So to placate a political supporter,
Jones suggested I invite Matz to my office.
 FIRST ONE IN GETS THE BEST DEAL 119

He brought along one of his secretaries who wanted to meet

me. It enabled Matz to show off a little bit. I gave her a charm
bracelet— a usual vice-presidential giveaway— because I thought
it would make him happy. After she left the room, Matz and
Jones and I sat down. Matz said, "I want to give you a campaign
contribution, but I need your help in getting some work." I said,
"I will recommend you and do what I can to help you, but I have
no control over awarding work." He seemed satisfied and ar-
rangements were made for him to send a check to Jones, which
he did, along with a letter.
Jones is convinced that the prosecutors told Matz his earlier
testimony was not enough to buy his immunity; that they told
him in so many words, "You've got to say you gave money to
Agnew while he was Vice-President. You need somebody to back
up your story." Then, and only then, did he concoct the lie about
the so-called payoff in my ofiice. This is Jones's own account of
the incident:
"I called Matz and asked him to help raise funds for the 1972
campaign. He was angry because Agnew was not getting any
federal contracts for him, and said, I'm not going to work for
him.' He complained that Agnew, as Vice-President, was ignor-
ing his old friends. He asked me, 'When are you going to see him
again?' I said, 'Tomorrow.' His whole manner changed. He said,
1 am going to be in Washington tomorrow with my secretary
and, God, you know, if I could introduce her to the Vice-Presi-
dent, that would be great.'
"I said, I'll see what I can do.' So I called Ted and said, 'Matz
wants to see you with his girl friend. It will take about five min-
utes.' So he said, 'O.K.' When I got to Agnew's office, Matz was
there with the girl and you would have thought he owned the
ofiice, he was swaggering around so much. Ted gave her a little
charm bracelet with the Vice-President's seal on it, and Matz said
he was going to work for Ted. The girl left, but I stayed in there
with Matz the whole time he was in the ofiice.
"Matz did not hand over any money to Agnew. That was un-
thinkable. Here was the Vice-President of the United States in
his office, with the American flag behind him. Furthermore, Matz
brought his girl friend over. Would he have invited a secretary
by saying, 'Hey, come with me, I'm going to bribe the Vice-
President?'
120 GO QUIETLY or else

"The frightening thing is that it appears to me that the pros-

ecutors suppressed evidence. They knew that Matz had testified
in the Dale Anderson case that he had been angry with Agnew
and had given twenty-five hundred dollars, his only contribution
to the 1972 campaign. He mailed the check to me with a letter
saying he was enclosing it. They knew that I had listed the check
as a legal campaign contribution. So the prosecutors had to give
up trying to make me say that I saw the twenty-five hundred in
cash paid by Matz to Agnew. It never happened. They knew it
never happened. They must have said, *How do we handle this?'
So they changed their evidence to fit their theory. They said
there was some doubt that I had been there."
In talking about it later, Jones told a reporter: "The heart of
the whole case was Matz's claim that he had paid cash to Agnew
when Ted was Vice-President. If Matz had not told his lies, there
would have been no 'Agnew case' and Agnew would have be-
come President."
Having failed to force Jones to testify against me, the pros-
ecutors turned their screws on Bud Hammerman. Justice De-
partment records show that they were applying the heat to
Hammerman as early as July 18. While his lawyers were angling
for a deal. Hammerman was assuring me he would remain my
faithful friend until death. A memorandum by Ronald S. Lieb-
man said he and George Beall and Russell Baker, Jr., met that
day with Hammerman's lawyers, Sidney Sachs and Hal Witt.
Beall told them, "We have developed hard information indicat-
ing that Hammerman . . . was at the center of a corrupt con-
spiracy involving the State Roads Commission and high state
ofiicials for the years 1967, 1968, and 1969. . . . Hammerman
participated as a bag man for engineers who paid him large
amounts of cash."
"We are not fishing," the prosecutors said. They warned that
Hammerman had better talk fast, that he "does not have the
luxury of taking several weeks to agonize over a decision." Most
significant of all is this sentence in Liebman's memorandum:
"The attorneys were advised that when we enter into a relation-
ship, we always buy the whole witness."
The Baltimore Four had already "bought" Matz, Wolff, and
Green. But while those three were telling lies against me, Ham-
merman was assuring me: "You don't have to worry about me
 FIRST ONE IN GETS THE BEST DEAL 121

turning tail like those guys. I'm your friend, and our family
doesn't do that."
He was referring to the role of his father, Sam Hammerman,
who made all those millions back in the "frontier" days of Balti-
more County. Old Sam was a "wheeler-dealer." (I mean this as
no disrespect to his memory, because I would apply the same
term to the late Jay Gould, John D. Rockefeller, or Joseph Ken-
nedy.) Actually, Sam Hammerman engendered a lot of respect
among the tough old pols of the all-powerful Democratic orga-
nization inBaltimore County during the 1930's, 1940's, and 1950's.
He was known as a stand-up guy. On more than one occasion
he refused to testify against politicians who were accused of
wrongdoing.
The government had a case against Bud Hammerman on in-
come tax evasion charges because he had spent large amounts of
money that did not show in his tax returns, and he had had no
way to explain where he got all that cash. Also, Jerry Wolff's rec-
ord of payments received from Hammerman corroborated the
testimony of the engineers, who said Hammerman called them
and demanded the payments. This was real corroboration, not
the fake corroboration that the prosecutors had said Wolff pro-
vided for Hammerman's testimony against me.
Unknown to me. Bud Hammerman caved in to the threats to
send him to jail and signed a statement August 17. I will answer
that statement now, point by point.
I will say, at the outset, that Bud Hammerman is a charming
man, and for several years he completely fooled me into believ-
ing he was my friend. He was helpful with political groups, he
always wrote congratulatory letters when our friends experienced
a success, always sent little commemorative gifts to me and Judy
and to members of my staff. It may have been calculated, I real-
ize now, but that's true of most business people. I don't hate him
for that; it's human nature. He was very useful as a fund-raiser
for the Republicans in Maryland after having given large amounts
to the Democrats. He was a little too aggressive sometimes, but
he was generally thoughtful and considerate of everyone. Frankly,
I liked him.
It is not true, as he claims, that he has known me "ever since
we attended junior high school together in Baltimore," or that
we "distributed circulars together" after school. I bought a lot
122 GO QUIETLY or else
from him when I built my house at Lutherville, when I came out
of the army in 1946. That was our first meeting that I remember.
When I was elected Baltimore County Executive in 1962, he gave
money to my opponent. But he began cultivating me immediately
after my victory, showering me with entertainment, travel, and
gifts. Later as an important member of my finance committee,
he also raised a considerable sum in my successful campaign for
governor in 1966. Evidently he saw a great opportunity to be-
come a member of the inner circle around the Governor— to use
his friendship with me as a golden key to open the doors to many
lucrative business deals, and even to dream about being at my
side if I were elected to national office.
Only much later did I realize I had been naive; that Hammer-
man had been using me— when I was Governor and then Vice-
President— for his own profit. He was the kind of man who
employed his money to be close to political power. It built up
his own image tremendously. When he wanted to borrow money
from a New York bank, it was helpful to be known as a personal
friend of the Vice-President's. He made sure he introduced me
to all those bankers so they would know we were close. I was an
asset. He used me to generate capital and to enhance his own
reputation.
If this were not such a tragedy, I would laugh at Hammer-
man's claim, that, shortly after I became Governor, I "advised"
him Maryland had a long-standing system whereby engineers
made substantial cash contributions for political purposes and
shared in contracts awarded by the chairman of the State Roads
Commission. His statement is ridiculous. He did not need me to
*'advise" him of that. The system had, indeed, been going on for
many years under the Democrats. As Sam Hammerman and his
son. Bud, had built up their multi-million-dollar real estate and
mortgage banking business, they had regularly made political
contributions— nearly always to the Democrats, who are the nil-
ing party in Maryland, controlling the legislature as well as the
city governments of Baltimore and Baltimore County.
Hammerman did raise campaign funds from engineers as well
as from other businessmen. But I purposely stayed out of that
field. I wanted to know as little about the gray areas of fund-
raising as possible. I would tell him, "Don't give me any details."
 FIRST ONE IN GETS THE BEST DEAL 123

Therefore, I have no way of knowing how much money Ham-

merman may have collected from any donor.
As I have said earlier, I totally deny Hammerman's tale that
he divided the money on the basis of one fourth to himself, one
fourth to Jerry WolfiE, and one half to me. This is a total fabrica-
tion, probably to justify his giving Wolff a smaller portion under
their arrangement. I never knew of any such understanding.
Hammerman also told another string of lies in claiming he
kept money for me in a safe-deposit box— that I would ask him
how many "papers" he had to deliver to me, each "paper" sup-
posedly equalling a thousand dollars.
I know now that Hammerman was collecting money from
businessmen and telling them it was for payoffs to politicians.
But he has no proof the money went to me. In fact, it did not.
He has verified that he had some safe-deposit boxes, but that
does not prove the money inside was mine; he could just as easily
have said he gave it to George Beall or to Barnet Skolnik.
How can a safe-deposit record corroborate that the money was
mine? The record merely shows that Hammerman had the box.
It was his box. It didn't have my name on it.
During the period of the investigation, I had two safe-deposit
boxes— one in Towson at Chesapeake National Bank and one in
Washington at the First National Bank across from the Executive
Office Building. Naturally, the I.R.S. checked into these immedi-
ately. The bank records in each case will verify that there was
very little traffic to either box during the time Hammerman was
allegedly passing these large amounts of cash to me. The only
things in the boxes were my insurance policies, my will, and my
personal family records. No cash. Now, one doesn't carry large
amounts of cash on his person and the Secret Service men who
were with me day and night would have been curious if I had
tried to bury it in a shoe box, as the prosecutors suggested I had
done when my net-worth investigation came up dry of all those
tens of thousands I was said to have taken.
Hammerman is also supposed to have "corroborated" Wolff's
story about the division of the payments. But all Hammerman
did was to say directly the same thing Wolff had reported as
secondhand information from Hammerman himself. Hammer-
man cannot corroborate himself. The prosecutors simply got the
124 GO QUIETLY or else
same story twice. But there is no documentation to support the
tale at all.
For that matter Hammerman could have been keeping all the
money he collected, except for the amounts he gave to Wolfif,
and using it in his widespread enterprises for which he always
needed loads of cash. He had multiple business interests in Mary-
land and elsewhere; he was generating large amounts of money
to finance them, and entertaining heavily. He certainly got
money from somewhere, and he couldn't prove where it came
from.
It is true that during the eight years or so I knew him, Ham-
merman gave me personal gifts amounting to perhaps nine or ten
thousand dollars. I do not know the exact amount. I did not keep
an account of these gifts. He knew that I had accumulated very
little savings from my modest earnings, and had no outside in-
come. Icould not possibly make ends meet on my twenty-five-
thousand-dollar salary as Governor or sixty-five-thousand-dollar
salary as Vice-President and fulfill all the financial and social ob-
ligations ofthose offices. Rich men can do so from their reserves,
but I had no reserves. So Bud would sometimes come to me and

say: "Look, Ted, Tm wealthy and I know you have all sorts of
financial
me. pressures. So take this thousand dollars; it's a gift from

I didn't think it was wrong to take a gift from a wealthy friend,

who apparently wanted nothing in return except close proximity
to me. I want to emphasize that Hammerman was not a con-
tractor and did no business with the state of Maryland while I
was Governor, nor with the federal government while I was Vice-
President. Therefore, his gifts to me cannot by any stretch of the
imagination be considered kickbacks.
Occasionally when we were in New York City, Hammerman
would go into Sulka's and buy me some ties. At various times he
gave me a robe, a jacket, some opal cuff Hnks, and as a birthday
gift, a dozen shirts. But it is untrue that he outfitted me at Brooks
Brothers with suits. During the 1968 campaign, a Baltimore re-
porter manufactured the story that I wore expensive silk suits.
Apparently, he couldn't tell silk from polyester. The story has
been repeated a hundred times. I have never had a silk suit in
my life. I bought my suits from a Baltimore wholesale tailoring
outfit known as English-American and paid for them myself. I
 FIRST ONE IN GETS THE BEST DEAL 125

still buy them there. The I.R.S. found that out when they con-
ducted their net-worth examination. They didn't come from
Hammerman and they didn't cost a lot, anyway— about $125
apiece at that time.
At various times we exchanged gifts. For instance, I gave him
cuff links and an inscribed silver box. After all, he was my friend.
His steady line to me was, "Look, Ted, Tm not hurting for
money. It's my pleasure to do things for you."
I knew that I was being used by this man, but used, I thought,
within the bounds of propriety. Of course I was stupid to take
his money, even as a gift. If my head had been screwed on right,
I wouldn't have done it. Although he would say "Accept this as a
friend," I was unconsciously being obligated. I realize that now,
when it's too late.
I have read a ridiculous claim that Hammerman even paid
for installing a new kitchen in my apartment in the Sheraton
Park Hotel. That is untrue. The truth is that when Judy and I
first looked at the apartment in early 1969, the kitchen was in
horrible shape— so broken-down and antiquated that we refused
to use it. I said, "Before I rent this place, I want a new kitchen,"
and the man from the hotel office replied, "OK, you'll get a new
kitchen."
The hotel managers were eager to please me. They wanted to
have the Vice-President as a resident in their hotel, just as they
had wanted Vice-President Lyndon Johnson, who had occupied
the same apartment there a few years before. They offered me a
celebrity discount, not because of any Hammerman influence,
but the same discount given to Lyndon Johnson and to Earl
Warren when he was Chief Justice and to John Connally as
Secretary of the Treasury, and many others.
The I.R.S. later made a claim against me for taxes on the
value of the kitchen, saying it was a gift from Hammerman, who
was friendly with the Sheraton people and who had accompanied
Judy and me when we looked at the apartment. But that silly
claim was later abandoned when I proved that the management
put in the kitchen. I paid rent for it and the kitchen is still there.
I didn't package it and take it home with me.
The prosecutors related the wildest tales by Hammerman as
if they were the gospel truth— despite denials by responsible in-
dividuals. For instance, they said he told them a certain large
126 GO QUIETLY or else
financial institution received a state bonding contract while I was
Governor of Maryland only after I had insisted that it make a
substantial cash "contribution."
Hammerman quoted me as telling him that the principals of
that firm were "a cheap bunch" who "don't give you any money"
and as saying they would not get the contract until they paid.
"Hammerman carried that message to the appropriate person;
a substantial cash contribution was made; the institution got the
bond business," the prosecutors said in their forty-page statement
issued after my resignation.
I may have called them a cheap bunch. They had had the
state bonding business for many years under Democratic admin-
istrations, but they were not lavish with their contributions to
Republicans. As I recall, Hammerman told me they were going to
do more for Republicans.
But Alex Brown and Sons, the Baltimore investment banking
house which received a $220 million state bond-issue contract in
1968, flatly denied any such payment. George W. Seger, ad-
ministrative partner of the firm— which freely cooperated with
the investigators in the case— said in a story reported by Lee
Baylin in The Baltimore Evening Sun on October 12, 1973, "Alex
Brown and Sons states categorically that it never made any cash
contribution or payment directly or indirectly in order to get this
particular state bond business or any other business of the state
of Maryland. Moreover, no partner or anyone else associated with
the firm made any cash payment."
In retrospect, I realize I should have suspected that Hammer-
man, by lavishing attention and gifts on me, was using my name
as a reference to open doors for himself in the New York financial
world. He got away with an incredible deception one day in
the spring of 1971, when he arranged for me to brief several
investment executives at a private breakfast at a New York hotel.
I spoke chiefly about foreign aff^airs and President Nixon's deal-
ings with the Soviet Union and China. I never mentioned any-
thing about Hammerman's project.
Lo and behold! I found out much later that Hammerman had
remained to meet privately with these same executives imme-
diately after my departure and had put the arm on them for
a contribution to one of his own enterprises. He was trying to
raise money to build a forty-million-dollar hotel, office, and
 FIRST ONE IN GETS THE BEST DEAL 127

apartment complex on the Baltimore waterfront. He had used me

as bait.
Roger G. Kennedy, a senior vice-president of the Ford Founda-
tion, was among the New York breakfast guests. I did not know
it then, but the Ford Foundation had backed out of a tentative
commitment to help finance the Baltimore development. Kennedy
later said he wondered if I would solicit money for Hammerman,
even indirectly. Of course I did not, because I had no idea of
Hammerman's secret purpose in bringing me there.
Kennedy concluded that Hammerman had simply decided to
"trot out a big politician and demonstrate how many big shots
he knew ... to impress a bunch of very senior investment
types that Hammerman was a man of stature." About three
weeks later, at my request, Kennedy met with me in my office.
He later said he thought that finally he was going to get the
pitch for Hammerman. He was wrong. I spent forty-five minutes
telling him that the Ford Foundation should stop financing a
lot of ultra-liberal activities. That was at a time when many
students were rampaging against the Vietnam War; in that same
spring, the May Day marchers brought havoc to the beautiful city
of Washington.
Hammerman remained loyal through the 1972 election cam-
paign, raising a considerable amount of money for the Nixon-
Agnew ticket. Immediately after the election, he began promoting
me for the presidency. On my fifty-fourth birthday, November 9,
he staged an expensive party for me in a Washington hotel ball-
room, where he displayed a huge banner: "SPIRO OF 76." He
brought about five hundred people in to show what good friends
we were, and how he was going to be close by when I rode into
the White House.
A gigantic birthday cake was served. The baker had planned
to copy the vice-presidential seal in the icing, but that proved
too difficult.* So the official seal itself, which is placed on the
lectern wherever the Vice-President speaks, was installed as if it
were part of the cake. A day or two after the party, Hammerman's
* This was the seal that was good enough for every Vice-President from
John Adams to Gerald Ford, but somehow did not satisfy Nelson Rockefeller.
He declared it a "tired old bird with its wings down" and had it replaced
by a more aggressive eagle— perhaps one better equipped to engage its
presidential counterpart in battle.
128 GO QUIETLY or else

office called and asked, "What happened to the seal on the cake?"
Bud wanted it, but the members of my Secret Service detail
had other ideas. They were far too professional to question my
choice of associates, but I could tell Hammerman was not one
of their favorite people. Too frequently, he persuaded me to put
him in the immediate vice-presidential party, compounding their
logistical problems. They were aware that he was exploiting his
relationship with me, and they did nothing that would further
his objectives. So they reclaimed the decorative seal. I think they
feared it would wind up as a conversation piece in the Hammer-
man home or office.
Hammerman continued to promote me for the presidency
through the spring of 1973, although my staff and I did all we
could to discourage him. I even wrote him a letter asking him
to desist from the public statements he was making. In politics,
timing is everything and it was far too early for me, positioned as
advantageously as I was, to show any overt interest in the 1976
presidential election. There was no chance that a Vice-President
would be overlooked as a candidate and, in my case, my
popularity in the party was recognized by all. Those hard cam-
paigns had laid a perfect base as far as the party loyalists were
concerned. Moreover, my campaigning for congressmen and
governors had put a lot of political I.O.U.'s in my pocket. My
friends believed that my total noninvolvement in Watergate made
me shine by contrast, and I was steadily rising in the polls as a
cinch for the next Republican presidential nomination.
The blackmail threats by Matz and Wolff— that they would
implicate me unless I somehow called off the investigation of
their cases— were known to Hammerman, and worried him enough
to come to me several times, expressing alarm. Once, as I have
said, he delivered Wolff's letter pleading for help. Hammerman
reported back to his friends that I would do all I could. But I
informed him I could not and would not intervene, except to
ask the President to make sure the prosecutors did not smear
innocent people with trumped-up evidence bought with promises
of immunity.
Throughout that time. Hammerman gave me constant re-
assurances he would never turn against me. He would say, 'T
never cave in. Count on me."
Judy and I invited the Hammermans to dine with us at our
 FIRST ONE IN GETS THE BEST DEAL 129

new home in Kenwood, Maryland, the night of August 20 and

they had accepted. We sat around waiting for an hour and a half
but they did not show up or call. Another hour later. Bud's
lawyer phoned and said, "I have advised him that it wouldn't
be wise for him to talk with you any more."
I knew then the prosecutors must have turned on enough
pressure to break Hammerman. His lawyer, Sidney Sachs, had
advised him he was inextricably caught on the income tax
evasion charge and by Wolff's corroboration of the engineers, and
the only way to stay out of jail was to make a deal. So he told the
"Gang of Four" anything they wanted to hear.
I later learned that Sachs had proposed Hammerman be wired
with an electronic listening device and sent to me in hopes of
recording some incriminating statements. The mental picture
of my old friend seated at the dinner table in my home and
secretly trying to trap me with a recording device strapped to
his body, is abhorrent. I am told the prosecutors rejected the
idea as an unnecessary gamble, because they feared I might
contradict Hammerman's story, or that the Secret Service might
find the device on him. Then I would have had a clear-cut case
of entrapment and violation of my civil rights.
I am aware that the prosecutors claim they gave Hammerman
no promises for his testimony. This was a transparent lie, and the
Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals proved it so. Hammerman and
Allen Green were convicted of income tax evasion and sentenced
to prison. Hammerman appealed; Green did not. The higher
court reversed Hammerman's conviction on the grounds it had
been obtained through the prosecutors' illegal promises that he
would not go to jail. He walked away, scot free, just as the
Baltimore Four always intended he would.
Yes, as Liebman said in his Justice Department memorandum,
when the prosecutors bought a witness, they bought the whole
man. They did not care how high a price they had to pay, either,
if they could ruin a Vice-President named Spiro T. Agnew.
 CHAPTER ELEVEN

GET THE BASTARD

Having failed to make me resign at once, high officials of the

Nixon administration launched a campaign to drive me out by
leaking anti-Agnew stories to the media. Their whole objective
was to force me to step down, and the sooner the better.
The President, while occasionally making an effort to treat me
fairly, yearned to get rid of this additional problem on top of all
his Watergate worries. He wanted to move the Agnew Story off
television and the front pages of the newspapers, appoint a new
Vice-President— John Connally was his favorite, I knew— and
make a fresh start.
Mr. Nixon did not seem to realize that I was his insurance
policy against his own ouster. The left-wingers who despised
us both would never push him out of the White House until
they were certain I would not be around to take his place. What
would be the point of exchanging a weakened Nixon for a Presi-
dent whose ideas seldom meshed with theirs, and who could be
stubborn? Therefore, logic dictated that I must be moved aside
first, by fair means or foul.
The high-minded Elliot Richardson fretted over my continued
presence in the direct line of succession to the presidency. He
professed to be horrified by the prospect of my moving into the
White House; to him, the signs of an imminent Nixon crack-up
were multiplying. In August, the President physically pushed the
trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, obedient Ronald Ziegler
before the very eyes of the astonished press corps and barked at
him. In a speech a little while later, the President muffed several
lines, leading to press speculation that he was either "on the
sauce" or "off his rocker.'* Again, the capital heard rumors the
"viral pneumonia" that had sent him to the hospital in July was
really a stroke, or something worse. Presidential illnesses had
130
 GET THE BASTARD 131

been concealed or minimized before— those of Woodrow Wilson

and Franklin D. Roosevelt come quickly to mind—and this ad-
ministration was already notorious for cover-ups.
Through a series of leaks— all damaging to me and depriving
me of the most basic and fundamental rights— administration
sources arranged to try my case in the media. Richardson himself
must take the blame for The New York Times story which re-
vealed that he had confronted me with the testimony by certain
witnesses linking me to the alleged kickbacks. The article also
said the prosecutors had so much evidence they intended to seek
an indictment.
The story could have referred to only one meeting, that of
August 6. The only people present were Richardson and I and
my three lawyers. Obviously, our side could not possibly benefit
from such a leak. It is significant that Richardson's memorandum
about our conference was dated August 14, and The New York
Times story appeared exactly two days later. Clearly, a copy of
the memo could have been handed to a Times man— not neces-
sarily bythe Attorney General himself but by some assistant who
knew of his keen desire to make me resign before I could reach
the presidency.
A Heartbeat Away quotes Richardson as saying to his aides:
"My first instincts were to worry about the ability to govern, to
function. But now Tm getting the feeling— Get the bastardl* "
If Richardson really said that, it shows he was not an impartial
cabinet ofiicer but a vindictive politician leading a vendetta to
get me.
Newsweek magazine for August 20 reported that the letter
from Beall, informing me I was under criminal investigation,
"was cleared in advance by Attorney General Elliot Richardson,
who notified both the White House and Watergate Special
Prosecutor Archibald Cox . . . The mere fact that the letter was
sent had ominous overtones for Agnew."
One of Richardson's aides was quoted by the magazine as
saying, "It wasn't sent in jest. You don't send a letter like that to
a high-ranking oflScer of the government unless there is good
reason to."
Also on August 20, The Washington Post printed a column by
Rowland Evans and Robert Novak stating that Melvin Laird, a
White House counselor, had been warning some Republican
132 GO QUIETLY or else
congressmen not to go out on a limb for me. From other sources
I have learned that the former Defense Secretary was the man
sent to undermine me in Congress. He closed down any chance
of my getting a sympathetic hearing, even poisoning the minds of
many Republicans.
Time magazine— under a dateline of August 27, but made pub-
lic a week earlier— said it had "learned that in the view of Justice
Department officials in Washington the case against him is grow-
ing steadily stronger, and that an indictment appears inevitable
. . . *The department has no choice,' a Justice official in Wash-
ington said. *At least three witnesses have told of delivering cash
payoffs to Agnew. The evidence is so strong that the case must
be taken to trial.' "
I have seen stories suggesting that the leaks might have come
from my own office. But my assistants could not have been re-
sponsible; the majority knew nothing at all about my case. Any
discussion of the case was closely held by Art Sohmer, Gen. Mike
Dunn, and my personal secretary, Mary Ellen Warner. My press
secretary. Marsh Thomson, often complained that he was left in
the dark. Besides, the damaging information leaked was not
about things we knew. How could we leak what was being said
and done inside the Justice Department? Furthermore, what
earthly motive would we have to leak charges harmful to me?
The whole idea is absurd.
No, it is clear to me that, as the stories themselves indicate,
they came not only from the Justice Department— where the
Attorney General had made clear he wanted me to leave office
as soon as possible— but also from the White House. As their
actions had shown. General Haig, Laird, and their allies on the
Nixon staff wanted me out in a hurry, even though they could
not persuade the President to make me resign. It is logical to
conclude that they permitted officials to leak all they pleased
without fear of censure.* Their campaign amounted to a White
House staff war against the Vice-President.
The White House crowd and the Justice Department had
shoved me off the team; now they were trying to push me over
the side of the seriously listing ship of state. But I stubbornly

* News stories referred to "White House sources," "a White House official,"
"a White House aide," "high administration sources," among other refer-
ences.
 GET THE BASTARD 133

refused to walk the plank. On August 21, I called reporters to

another nationally televised press conference in the auditorium
of the Old Executive OflBce Building.
I read a prepared statement in which I charged that officially-
inspired leaks against me had continued unabated ever since the
first news story saying I was the target of an investigation. "I can
only assume that some Justice Department officials have decided
to indict me in the press whether or not the evidence supports
their position. This is a clear and outrageous effort to influence
the outcome of possible grand jury deliberations."
Recalling that since April I had consistently offered my com-
plete cooperation to U. S. Attorney Beall, I told the press I had
that day arranged to have a letter hand-delivered to the Attorney
General. Then I read that letter, which said in part:
"I expected that the investigation would be conducted not only
thoroughly, but secretly, with the usual safeguards against leaks
to the press which might compromise the secrecy of possible
grand jury proceedings. Tragically, the safeguards have been
virtually nonexistent."
In view of the many stories which liberally quoted unnamed
Justice Department officials about my case, I said: "There can
be no question that some personnel of your department have
regularly released information to the press— when their duty was
to maintain silence.*
"There can be no doubt that you now have the obligation to
investigate these leaks and to use all the tools at your disposal
to expose and discipline those responsible. Only drastic and im-
mediate action will curb this vicious and illegal practice.
"Of course, I am concerned about the impact of these leaks
upon me and upon the office I hold. I am equally concerned,
however, with the impact which the extensive publicity may
have on others— especially private citizens— who may also be sub-
jects ofthe investigation. It would be a dreadful injustice if their
rights were to be prejudiced simply because they are caught in
* Taken directly from the news stories, here are some of the sources re-
ferred to: "In the view of the prosecutors"; "prosecutors continued to insist
pubhcly"; "a high official of the Justice Department said"; "Beall told
reporters"; "Beall has obtained Wolff's diary"; "Justice Department officials
said there is no choice but to seek indictment"; "sources close to the federal
investigation said"; "Matz and Wolff given limited immunity, sources say";
"federal court sources said"; "federal investigators have found."
134 GO QUIETLY or else

the swirl of publicity created by the charges, rumors, specula-

tions, and leaks involving me.
"Let me dispose of one rumor— that I have encouraged this
stream of leaks as part of my 'defense strategy.' This is malicious
nonsense. Indeed, in view of the prejudicial character of the leaks
and their regular attribution to Justice Department sources, the
rumor is inherently absurd.
"I sincerely hope that you will take immediate steps to stop
this gross perversion of justice. The American people have a right
to insist not only upon determined investigation of criminal
charges, but also upon investigatory processes which safeguard
the rights of those involved. I, as Vice-President, and you, as
Attorney General, share a common responsibility in this regard,
a responsibility which I have endeavored to discharge since I
first became aware of the investigation."
Richardson soon after held his own press conference and piously
replied in a statement:
"I fully share the Vice-President's concern about unfair and
inaccurate publicity. I stand by my previous statements that every
reasonable step is being taken to assure that the Justice Depart-
ment has not been and will not be the source of such publicity.
"Any plausible lead implicating the Department of Justice will
be pursued vigorously," he said, "and appropriate disciplinary
action will be taken against any department employee found to
be responsible."
Mr. Nixon, in an August 22 press conference on his San Cle-
mente lawn, said he had ordered Richardson to investigate the
leaks and that any Justice Department employee found respon-
sible would be "summarily dismissed." (I do not know of any
who were ever fired for leaks against me.)
The President gave me this endorsement: "My confidence in
his integrity has not been shaken and in fact has been strength-
ened by his courageous conduct and his ability, even though
he's controversial at times as I am, over the past four and a half
years. And so I am confident in the integrity of the Vice-President
and particularly in the performance of the duties that he has
had as Vice-President, and as a candidate for Vice-President."
He would consider it "improper" to comment on the charges
about my conduct as Baltimore County Executive and Governor
of Maryland, the President said. As for the idea of my resigning.
 GET THE BASTARD 135

he added, "The Vice-President has not been indicted. Charges

have been thrown out by innuendo and otherwise which he
has denied to me personally and which he has denied publicly.
And the talk about resignation even now . . . would be inap-
propriate."
As I indicated earlier, I phoned the President to thank him for
his supportive statements and it was then that he delivered his
profane and opprobrious characterization of Elliot Richardson,
mentioned earlier. His July 3 tirade at Richardson over Archibald
Cox's picking at the San Clemente house proved this opinion did
not develop overnight.
Richardson said on television that he would make the final
decision as to whether or not the evidence against me would go
to a grand jury. My attorney, Jay Topkis, sent him a letter August
21 asking to be heard before that decision was made.
"According to the press, you said that the decision would in-
volve two issues: the sufficiency of the evidence and the question
of whether an incumbent Vice-President may be indicted," Top-
kis wrote. "We have no wish to rush you, of course, but may
we have your early assurance that at a time you deem appro-
priate, and before any final action, we may call upon you for
this purpose?"
A week later, Richardson replied that he would consider any
brief about the indictability of an incumbent Vice-President.
"On the issue of the sufficiency of evidence," he added, "I have
discussed with United States Attorney George Beall the desire
of your client to meet with the prosecutors, and he and members
of his staff will accommodate the Vice-President at his earliest
convenience in order that the Vice-President may make any
statement that he wishes, in any form he chooses, oral or written."
Beall, in a letter to Topkis, asked that I furnish every con-
ceivable personal financial record "from 1 January 1962 to the
present," involving "political contributions in the form of cash
payments of one hundred dollars or more" delivered to me or
to my campaign agents; also cash payments of a hundred dollars
or more made to me or to Hammerman or Jones or any other
agent of mine; gifts of more than a hundred dollars; checking
and savings accounts; stocks and bonds; real estate transactions;
loans, mortgages, and inheritances; partnerships; safe-deposit
boxes; purchases of personal property worth more than five hun-
136 GO QUIETLY or else

dred dollars; insurance policies; "all sources of non- taxable in-

come"; and individual gifts of a hundred dollars or more involv-
ing "Lester Matz, Allen Green, L H. Hammerman, II, J. Walter
Jones, and Harry Dundore/'
In brief, the prosecutors w^ere asking me to provide all the
data for a net-w^orth examination of myself. Richardson had told
his associates they must prove I had actually received cash in
person from the men who claimed they had paid it for my
benefit. Their statements alone would not be enough to stand
up in court. He knew they did not corroborate one another, no
matter what his prosecutors might claim.
The government launched a sweeping net- worth investigation,
checking on everything of value that my wife and I had ever
received or spent during a period of several years. The theory of
the net-worth inquiry is that eventually it will show a big bulge
in money received or spent and not accurately recorded in the
income tax returns. But no big bulge was ever found in our re-
turns, which we had kept meticulously since 1947.
The investigators soon learned that Mrs. Agnew and I were
not rich. We owned only a mortgaged house, a few securities,
and some personal property. We lived very quietly and conserva-
tively within our income. We paid nearly every bill by check.
One of my closest friends, Harry Dundore, had given me money
on quite a few occasions since I had become governor and then
Vice-President— usually a thousand dollars at a time. He is a re-
tired businessman, very well to do, and he gave it to me out of
friendship as a present, because as I have said, it was not easy
to live as a Vice-President is expected to live on my salary. He
had no business with public works or the government.
The Vice-President's salary of sixty-five thousand dollars was
only a little more than a congressman's pay today and did not
begin to cover the normal expenses of a large family, plus special
expenses such as entertaining politicians and dignitaries at home,
or the formal clothing requirements for state dinners at* the
White House, as well as countless public functions that had to be
attended by both me and Judy. I had no income or business on
the side.
Nevertheless, the prosecutors got the fixed idea that I had col-
lected well over a hundred thousand dollars in payoffs. They
 GET THE BASTARD 137

thought I had hidden the money or invested it in land some-

where, perhaps under fictitious names. Swarms of federal agents
went forth, snooping into my private affairs. They went to every-
body Ihad ever had any financial contact with, trying to find
that imaginary cash. They interviewed merchants, charitable or-
ganizations, business associates, the Kiwanis Club.
They checked a store where I had bought two ties for a little
over six dollars. They went to a Palm Springs, California, country
club where I played golf with Frank Sinatra and asked whether
I signed or paid for any tab I ran up. They asked the caddies at
several clubs, "Does he tip in cash? How much does he give you?
Does he trade in the pro shops?"
They even checked on my five-dollar-a-year membership in a
small nonpartisan group, the United Christian Citizens, Inc., of
Baltimore. They served a subpoena on the owner of a knitting
mill at Asheville, North Carolina, and found that I had received
a gift of four yards of homespun cloth, worth four dollars a yard,
as a participant in the 1967 Southern Governors' Conference
there. (Every other governor got a similar gift.)
The investigators also checked into the twenty-five thousand
dollars in royalties which I received from two companies which
made the famous Spiro Agnew wristwatches and the T-shirts
bearing my picture. The suspicious agents found that I had, in-
deed, given away every cent of the royalties precisely as my
records indicated— half of it to an organization representing fam-
ilies of prisoners of war in Southeast Asia and half to a group
improving the education of American Indian children.
Mrs. Donald Shea of Linthicum, Maryland, secretary-treasurer
of the National League of Families of American Prisoners and
Missing in Southeast Asia, furnished records which proved my
$12,500 gift and said, "It was a very generous gesture on his part
in 1970. It was the first large donation we had" (Washington
Star, October 7, 1973).
By combing through the files of my service as governor, the
agents came up with a gem of a letter. It indicated that I had
complained to the Naval Academy about an overcharge for the
use of a golf cart. The amount: three dollars and nine cents!
After my tax returns— which I had kept neatly and accurately
for a quarter of a century— had been pawed over by the I.R.S.
138 GO QUIETLY or else
strike force, they came back to me in a shambles. They were in
horrendous condition with papers all jimibled up into the wrong
files.
One agent was quoted as saying I must have hidden my cash
away in "a little tin box." But there was no such box. Besides,
the idea that I could systematically hide money somewhere is
ludicrous. I could not even move out of my house without being
accompanied by either a Maryland state trooper when I was
Governor, or a Secret Service agent when I was Vice-President.
People don't realize how diflRcult it is to be private when you
have security guards. Everything you do is known to them. My
own agents would be among the best witnesses to affirm my in-
tegrity.
About this time a story was leaked to the press that the prose-
cutors had been interrogating an old friend of mine, the late
Joseph Rash, an executive of Food Fair Stores, Inc., and had
learned he had been sending food gifts to the Agnews for years.
The media had a field day with this, calling Rashes gifts of hams
and turkeys "care packages" and the like. According to the media,
my accepting these gifts from an old friend whom I was never
asked to do anything for amounted to an example of my greedi-
ness and venality.
The prosecution put Joe through the wringer but could de-
velop no evidence of impropriety. However, one thing that was
not reported should be pointed out here: every time Joe Rash's
truck stopped at the Sheraton Park to drop off a food gift for the
Agnews, the next scheduled stop for another care package was
the home of columnist Jack Anderson. I have since learned the
Anderson gifts continued long after I left office. So much for
sanctimony.
It irritates me to read that the I.R.S. would have developed a
big income tax evasion case against me if I had not resigned
before the net-worth investigation could be finished. This is sheer
fiction. They had plenty of time to develop a case, if it existed,
and they just did not have one.
As far as I can determine, by using standards applicable to a
private citizen of my income, the I.R.S. thought they had de-
veloped a possible net-worth bulge of al)out seventeen thousand
dollars over the entire period 1968-1973. Their evaluations are
usually high and this could undoubtedly ])e knocked down con-
 GET THE BASTARD 139

siderably. For example, they estimate that a certain number of

dollars are spent normally for meals in restam^ants, or for movie
tickets or gasoline. A Vice-President, when he goes to a restau-
rant, almost never picks up the tab; he doesn't go to movies; and
the Secret Service provides his transportation. So the guidelines
for an ordinary citizen do not fit. Neither was the I.R.S. aware
of the gifts I received from Hammerman and Dundore and Jones
and Sinatra. These were not income to me and did not have to
be reported as such. It seems ridiculous that so much of a furor
was created over a few thousand dollars a year in gifts, when
Sen. Herman Talmadge successfully explained larger amounts of
unaccounted-for cash by saying they were small gifts from ap-
preciative constituents. I am sure I was not the first Vice-President
to receive gifts from wealthy friends. I doubt I will be the last.
I was also infuriated to read, even after I had resigned, that
George Beall was still telling the press that the agents were "look-
ing for the proverbial 'shoe box' where thousands of dollars in
kickbacks may have been stashed." The headline was "I.R.S. seek-
ing Agnew Shoe Box." Asked where he thought the cash went,
the prosecutor was quoted as saying wryly, "You mean, does he
have a shoe box somewhere? We don't know" (Washington Star,
October 13, 1973).
 CHAPTER TWELVE
A LARGE LUMP TO SWALLOW

On Saturday, September 1, I met with the President again

amid wild rumors that he had cut short a San Clemente vacation
and flown back to Washington to demand my head on a platter.
But it was not a showdown session. Actually the meeting was at
my request, to bring him up to date on what was happening. We
spent two hours discussing my case, the prosecutors' strong-arm
tactics, the unreasonably detailed information they were demand-
ing, and the government's continuing leaks that were destroying
my civil rights.
I told Nixon I despaired of finding any court in the Washington
area or in Maryland that could possibly treat me fairly, since the
minds of most people had been poisoned against me by the out-
rageous propaganda emanating from the Justice Department
and being featured in such sensational fashion in the Washington
area and by the national news media. Therefore, I said, I felt
obliged to take my case to the House of Representatives. I be-
lieved that if a congressional committee would hear the witnesses
on both sides, their sessions would be televised across the
country. I would make my defense— not to the congressmen
alone but to the American people, who would be watching the
drama on television, just as they had been staring at their TV
sets during the Watergate hearings that summer.
I thought if the people could see and hear cross examination
of the chief witnesses against me they would realize that all of
them— Matz, Wolff, Green and Hammerman— were free-spend-
ing, experienced wheeler-dealers in trouble with the law. Then
it would become clear they were engaged in a conspiracy to save
themselves at my expense, and that I was being sacrificed on their
testimony without independent corroborating evidence.
Also, I reasoned that the House members, all of whom had
140
 A LARGE LUMP TO SWALLOW 141

experienced the problems of raising campaign funds, would un-

derstand the situation much better than a Baltimore jury, which
would be heavily influenced by the zealous prosecutors deter-
mined to ruin me. In Baltimore, I had made many enemies as
governor by publicly criticizing the leaders of the black com-
munity for standing idly by, and making excuses for the radicals
who were burning down part of the city during the April 1968
riots that followed the murder of Martin Luther King, Jr.
My plan to take my case to the House touched off a commotion
in the Nixon inner circle. The President, after listening to me, told
General Haig about it; Haig hurried to Buzhardt and Richardson;
and they set out immediately to short-circuit my move. They had
reasons for extreme concern. First of all, they knew that if I
were successful in taking this route, it would close the door on
any possibility of my acceding to their continuing demands for
my resignation. I would carry on the battle on Capitol Hill for
many weeks.
Mr. Nixon's advisers had a second cause for worry. A hearing
such as I was seeking ran the risk of resulting in an impeachment.
If the Vice-President could be impeached by the House and tried
by the Senate, there were plenty of people around who would
want to make it a doubleheader.
One thing the Nixon people did not want to do was get the
news media and his enemies focused on the exciting subject of
impeachment. Already there were vague stirrings in the House;
it wouldn't do to encourage them. Worst of all, in the fevered
minds of Haig, Buzhardt, Richardson, and company, was the
specter of open warfare between the President and the Vice-Pres-
ident. Certainly, any House proceedings would expose not only
the concentrated efforts of the prosecutors to wreck me, but also
the pressure from the White House to make me resign. The
doors of a lot of closets would swing open and the skeletons come
marching out!
Haig and Buzhardt determined to intensify the pressure on
me so I would give up my idea of appealing to the House. On
Monday, September 10, they came into my Executive OSice
Building suite where I was waiting with my lawyers, Judd
Best and Jay Topkis. My recollections of this stormy meeting are
substantiated by detailed notes which Best wrote immediately
afterward.
142 GO QUIETLY or else
Buzhardt began with a cold, clinical, pessimistic analysis of
the case against me. He said the Justice Department's top ofiBcials
considered it strong enough so that I could be indicted, con-
victed, and sent to prison. Then Haig moved in, saying, "Richard-
son has a hard case. He wants to throw it to the grand jury, with
witnesses testifying under oath. If you dump this on the House,
the prosecutors will send the grand jury record to the committee
and you'll be playing high-risk ball."
"Richardson is under pressure from the Justice Department
and the U.S. Attorneys in Maryland to take the case to the grand
jury," Buzhardt said. "Richardson has told me they granted no
immunity to witnesses." I knew that was a lie because of what
was leaking out of Baltimore, and I said so. The prosecutors' own
records later proved me right.
"Yes, all the key witnesses will be indicted— will plead and
testify," Haig chimed in.
"I have no confidence in the Justice Department," I said. "This
matter is not in the hands of fair-minded people. If people are
determined to lie, they will tell anything. They're hostile to me.
They've been made to understand that if they don't testify
against me, the prosecutors will be angry and take it out on them.
"I am not guilty," I insisted. "There is no corroboration for
their stories. I can put on the witness stand fifty contractors who
did business with the county and state and who will testify that
I never directly or indirectly made any improper approach to

them."
Informed that Henry Petersen had interviewed several wit-
nesses and believed their stories against me, I said: "I thought
Petersen would get all the facts and then render an impartial
opinion. He did not . . . now I am fighting for my life.
"Since the House committee hearings in my case would be
televised to the nation," I said, "I don't believe the witnesses will
stand up before the country." I asked Haig, "Why do you think
the congressional process is bad?"
He said Nixon was against it and added, "The President may
not back you."
"Won't the President wait until all the evidence is in?" I
asked.
"Yes," the General replied. "But you could face both impeach-
ment and indictment, the worst of both worlds. If Elliot Richard-
 A LARGE LUMP TO SWALLOW 143

son comes up with sworn testimony, he will send it to the grand

jury."
"Can't the President tell Richardson to send it to the House
instead?" I asked.
"Not until they finish taking testimony under oath," Haig
repHed.
"They know it will be immediately leaked to the media. The
purpose of taking testimony under oath is to pressure me,"
I asserted. "The President is being emasculated by his own
Attorney General."
"Richardson fears that if the evidence presented to the House
doesn't stand up, he will be criticized," Buzhardt said.
The truth was still the plain truth— that Richardson had noth-
ing more than the unsworn stories of his four witnesses with no
documents to back them up except Wolff's notes, which showed
only that payments had been made on certain dates. The notes
certainly did not prove the money had gone to me.
As I kept insisting, there was no real corroboration. Petersen
virtually admitted as much September 3 when he said, "the case
still needs further investigation— n^t/ing down corroboration,
etc. . . ." (Italics mine). This quotation comes directly from a
memorandum in the Justice Department's files. It reports on the
prosecutors' strategy session that day at the Rockville, Maryland,
home of the Deputy Attorney General, William Ruckelshaus.
The memorandum, by Ronald S. Liebman, quotes Petersen as
saying the testimony of four witnesses needed corroboration, but
it was enough in its incomplete form to justify sending the case
to the grand jury. If the Justice Department did not prosecute
and the testimony leaked out, Petersen warned, there would be
"a scandal of gargantuan proportions." His chief concern evi-
dently was to avoid a scandal that would further embarrass the
Justice Department— already stung by the Watergate blunders—
and not to assure fair treatment for me.
I was to be a living demonstration that the President spurned
cover-ups, let the chips fall where they might— this was the whole
idea behind the W^hite House move to make me quit. Haig kept
insisting I must resign at once. I stubbornly refused. So the Gen-
eral and Buzhardt left my office empty-handed, without my resig-
nation.
On September 12, at their own suggestion, I sent Topkis, Lon-
144 GO QUIETLY or else
don, and Best to meet with Richardson in his oflBce. My account
of this session is based primarily on a memo which George Beall
wrote the next day; it is in Richardson's files.
Topkis said that, after long research, he and my other lawyers
were ready to advise me that under the Constitution, a Vice-
President is immune to indictment.
"I do not agree,*' Richardson replied.
Presentation of the evidence to the grand jury is necessary, he
said, and the return of an indictment would also be constitution-
ally proper. Henry Petersen put in that while he agreed on both
points, "no final decision on the sufiiciency of the evidence had
been reached by the department."
This was an extraordinary admission by Petersen, who had in-
terviewed Matz, Wolff, Green, and Hammerman. After their con-
fessions had been trumpeted in the media time and again ad
nauseam, and characterized as making an open-and-shut case
which was bound to result in my indictment and conviction, this
Assistant Attorney General now said his department had reached
"no final decision on the sufiiciency of the evidence."
Furthermore, in a September 11 memo to Richardson the Balti-
more prosecutors said:
At this time, this investigation is far from com-
plete. . . . Documentary and other corroboration must
still be gathered, analyzed, and compared with the in-
formation that we now possess. As is inevitably the case
at this stage of an investigation, there are inconsistencies
to be reconciled, faulty or absent memories to be refreshed,
and perhaps some willful misstatements to be disproven.
The prosecutors made this admission of their lack of corrobora-
tion, not out of any sense of fairness to me, but in arguing that
no detailed memorandum of their case against me should be
given to the President. They voiced morbid fears that such a
memo "might be disclosed by members of the White House staffs
to unauthorized persons, possibly including the Vice-President
himself."
So the Justice Department's own records show that the charges
against me were based upon the testimony of the "bought" wit-
nesses, with no documentary proof.
"We feel it is clear that the grand jury should take testimony
 A LARGE LUMP TO SWALLOW 145

and there is no constitutional obstacle to indictment," Richard-

son said. Then Topkis asked if this view would change if I took
my case to the House of Representatives. "No," said Richardson.
In that case he would inform the House of his views by "direct
communication to the Speaker."
The basic issue, Topkis said, was which procedure— through
the House or the grand jury— would be "less likely to incapacitate
the Vice-President." He said he would trust the House more
because there was no way to prevent leaks from the grand jury;
there would be "a circus in Baltimore."
"How could you possibly consider even a leaky grand jury
more
asked. of a circus than a proceeding on the Hill?" Richardson
"Because we will get our hcks in on the Hill, and we cannot
do so in a grand jury, which is one-sided," Topkis responded.
"If the impeachment proceedings begin," the Attorney Gen-
eral inquired, "are we to forget about the grand jury?"
"Yes,"
defer to the Topkis replied; he hoped the Justice Department would
House.
Richardson voiced concern about congressional proceedings,
which he sought to avoid at almost any cost. The government
"would have to think about how it could make its evidence
available to the House." It was a strong case, he said, and my
lawyers should consider what price they would pay in "getting
their licks in" through proceedings in the House.
The conference ended inconclusively after about an hour. Then
the White House moved into action again.
At 6:05 P.M. the same day, September 12, Haig and Buzhardt
returned to see me. Judd Best was there again, too, and took de-
tailed notes.
"I thought we'd better get together tonight," Haig began.
"The President has ordered Richardson and Petersen to go back
over the entire case. The President wants to do what's right."
Buzhardt then said, "Richardson has told us he has Hammer-
m.an's testimony that he collected money from eight contractors
and divided it, fifty percent to Agnew, twenty-five percent to
Hammerman, and twenty-five percent to Jerry Wolff. Wolff will
confirm that the eight contractors' books show the flow of money.
Matz made payments directly and so did Green, they say, and
the payments continued even while Agnew was Vice-President."
146 GO QUIETLY or else

"Do they have any corroboration?" I demanded.

"Yes, to an extent/' Buzhardt claimed. "Wolff confirms Ham-
merman; Green and Matz will say they paid you while you were
Vice-President." *
I became furious. I vehemently denied their charges and
declared: "I'll fight this."
"Richardson thinks it's a strong case," Haig said. "It's a hell
of a situation. If we go along with the move to the House, Elliot
will move concurrently and ask Speaker Albert to hold it up.
Albert will want to wait." I wondered how Haig knew, in ad-
vance, that Albert would wait. "The President has made some
feelers" on Capitol Hill, the General explained. "You won't be
supported."
"The President has lost his ability to exercise any power," Haig
continued. "The House action will take six months. There will
be a clamor for a trial."
Haig went on in his demands for my resignation. He became
so rough with me that Judd Best refused to stand by any longer
and watch the Genei^^l's performance. Best proposed that he
meet alone with the President's agents.
"I'll leave," I said, and I went out.
Alone with Haig and Buzhardt, my lawyer said: "I'll not have
my client lacerated by you any longer. What's the deal? How
do you plan to handle it? What will you give me if he resigns?
Let's cut out the bullshit and work something out."
After the visitors had departed, Best sat down with me and
suggested that we, at least, sound out the administration about
arrangements for me to resign, but only with positive guarantees
that I would not be prosecuted. I was so worn out and frustrated
after seven months in this pressure cooker, and so fearful about
the harm which the controversy was causing my wife and family
that I said wearily, "Well, let's explore what terms we can get."
* It is interesting to note that Allen Green's firm received only one federal
contract during the time he claims to have paid me $28,000 in hopes of
getting government work, and that was not awarded to Green Associates,
Inc., of Towson, Maryland, but to the Pennsylvania branch of the firm
headed by his brother, Samuel. I have never met Samuel, nor do I have
any idea of what that job might have been. The signature on the documents
involved in that transaction is that of another brother, Max Green, who was
during that period also under the scrutiny of federal investigators. As
part of the Allen Green plea deal, the investigation of Max Green was
dropped.
 A LARGE LUMP TO SWALLOW 147

In view of the hostility shown by the White House, I had rea-

son for concern. I was also becoming worried about a trial-
wondering whether I, as the former Governor of Maryland who
had lectured the black moderates over their failure to speak out
against the riots, could ever receive a fair trial in Baltimore. Also,
I realized that I was a man who was hated in some areas and
loved in others; very few people felt bland about me. I knew, too,
how the news media were savaging me with their leaks, and that
gave me further concern.
When I look back on my state of mind at this point, it is a
wonder that I was able to function at all. Since my trusted
friend and attorney, George White, had warned me in February
that Matz and Wolff were threatening to implicate me in their
troubles, I had been under constant fire from all quarters— the
U. S. Attorney's office in Baltimore, the Justice Department, the
White House, the news media. Although I knew I had done
nothing more than every politician charged with the respon-
sibility for raising campaign funds had done, I was being painted
every day by the press as a solicitor of bribes and an extortioner
who had violated his public trust for a few dollars. (One Justice
Department leader was quoted as being amazed at how cheaply
I was allegedly bought. ) The quantity of the leaked stories, most
of which were so patently ridiculous they were later abandoned,
made it appear that I was the most aggressive, crass, and venal
individual ever to be sworn into office. The steady stream of
accusations— played with eagerness, prominence, and exaggera-
tion by the press— shook the confidence of my staunchest friends.
It was impossible to get anything but a gloomy assessment of
my chances. Even my own lawyers thought the scales were tilted
toward conviction if I had to go to trial in Baltimore. In the final
analysis, it would be my word against each of the three witnesses.
Wolff's testimony did not incriminate me in any way. George
White, who had been steady and strong as a campaign manager,
underwent a strange transformation. Fed a daily ration of horror
stories by his friend, Arnold Weiner, George had been reduced
over the past few months to a nervous wreck. He would come in
frequently to report what he had heard through the legal grape-
vine and predict disaster. "It's all over, Ted," he would say.
"Your career is finished— the President won't support you. You'll
be convicted. Go to jail. People will spit on you in the street."
148 GO QUIETLY or else
White had been having a series of financial reverses which
threatened to bankrupt him. He had gone heavily into property
development, overextended himself, and was now threatened
with losing everything. I think this affected his judgment and
made him morose about everything. Moreover, one of his prin-
cipal financial backers was under investigation by the same U. S.
Attorney in Baltimore and he was worried about that. As the
months went by and the news got worse and worse, George con-
tinued to deteriorate. He became irrational— not at all like the
brilliant, lucid lawyer who had been so dependable in any crisis.
He began to confuse my troubles with his.
"Ted, we're all finished— all washed up. We're all going to
prison." Here he pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes.
"Elnor [his wife] is going to have to go to jail,*' he mourned,
"and they won't even let her take her knitting."
"No, George," I said. "We haven't done anything to justify
sending us to jail."
Even in the tragic circumstances, I almost burst out laughing
over the comment about Elnor's knitting. But it was no laughing
matter. George was genuinely disturbed, terribly depressed, and
was hinting at suicide. At one point, I was so worried about him
that I sent my old friend. Dr. J. Emmett Queen, down to the
White place on the eastern shore of Maryland to check on him.
George had mentioned ominously that he had guns there and
I was very concerned about his frame of mind.
When things got really acute at the very end of my struggle,
George had himself admitted to the hospital. He was on the
verge of a nervous breakdown. I am glad to say that he has now
completely recovered his health and his problems seem to have
been solved. My purpose in relating this history is not to embar-
rass George but to give the reader some idea of the horrendous
pressure that I lived with between February and October, 1973.
Except for my family, Frank Sinatra, Art Sohmer, Mike Dunn,
and Mary Ellen Warner, encouragement from those who were in
a position to know what was happening was in short supply. I
deliberately kept most of my staff in the dark because I wanted
to have no leaks from my office.
So when Judd Best suggested that maybe we should try to find
a way to end the nightmare, I was mentally and physically ex-
hausted enough to agree.
 A LARGE LUMP TO SWALLOW 149

My lawyers looked into what might be done about a compro-

mise. At first, there were indications that my resignation would
wipe the whole case out without a trial, a plea, or a penalty. But
the prosecutors would never consider that. They had climbed
out onto a limb by making the charges public and had done so
intentionally, knowing that once the public learned about the
leaked accusations, there was no way to call the investigation off
without imposing some drastic penalty on me.
The White House was happy about my decision to seek a
negotiated solution, and Buzhardt oflFered a few carrots at this
point. I had expressed worries about what would happen to my
staff, how I would handle my papers during the transition to
private citizen, about finances to cover legal fees, making a living,
and the like. Now the White House was ready to make some
guarantees if I would get out of the way. First, they promised to
place every member of my vice-presidential staff in another
federal position of comparable salary. This was a great relief to
me as I was worried about the people who had served me so
loyally during my years in office. Second, they agreed that I could
have a small transition staff and office so that my vice-presidential
papers could be catalogued and the business of winding up my
nearly five years in the second-highest office could be done in an
orderly fashion. Both these requests were ultimately carried out
after I resigned.
Third, they promised me that my Secret Service protection
would be continued for six months after I resigned. My detail
would be cut by at least 75 percent, however. This was done— but
only for four months, not for the full six months. I was given
twelve agents (whom I jokingly referred to as the "dirty dozen*'),
but they were withdrawn without warning while I was visiting
Frank Sinatra, to attend the late Jack Benny's eightieth birthday
party in mid-February 1974. There had been a great furor in the
press about my having agents accompany me on that trip. Sud-
denly one evening, the Secret Service with me received orders to
cease my protection at midnight. The White House communica-
tions people came in that same evening and pulled out the White
House phones, and the agents left at midnight. I had not been
notified by anyone until the head of my detail informed me. It
was an eerie occasion and a sad one. I had a wonderful relation-
150 GO QUIETLY or else
ship with the agents assigned to me. It was hke losing part of
my family when they left.
There were other promises to help me get some consulting
work, to help with the I.R.S. on the civil matters, to help with
my pension problems. These were never performed, nor did I
even hear another word about them after I left office.
The next morning— Thursday, September 13— Judd Best met
with Richardson and told him, "I'll recommend that my client
resign. This is only because I think a jury could convict him, even
though he is innocent. I don't want my man to go to jail."
"They went crazy at that," Best later reported to me. "Petersen
came in; his eyes rolled in his head when I said I could negotiate
for the resignation of the Vice-President." Buzhardt had already
told Richardson; the scenario was orchestrated by the White
House. One reason, I later learned, was that the President was
desperately eager to get Archibald Cox out of the job of Special
Watergate Prosecutor to stop him from pressing for the secret
White House tapes. Nixon could not risk the upheaval at Justice
that inevitably would follow the discharging of Cox until he
pacified Richardson with my scalp. So again I was treated like
a pawn in the game— the game of Watergate cover-up.
On the night of September 13, I told Judy the sad news. I'll
never forget the circumstances if I live to be a hundred. We had
finished an early dinner with my mother-in-law, Mrs. Judefind,
and our daughter, Susan. Judy and I had gone up to our bedroom,
where we liked to relax and read in the evening.
As we were getting into our robes, I said, "Honey, there's some-
thing Ihave to tell you. Try to understand this." I said the deck
was stacked against me and the chance of winning was slim; that
I had already been found guilty by the media on the basis of
the leaked accusations. Then I told her I had decided to consider
resigning if that proved to be the only way of avoiding a trial that
could last for months, further interfering with the President's
ability to govern the country.
My wife had been suffering from the strain of the long struggle
even more than I. She was standing by the foot of the bed. Sud-
denly, her knees buckled, her eyes turned up, and she slumped
to the floor. I rushed to her and lifted her to the bed. Her skin
was waxen, clammy. Fear gripped me.
But before I could move, she came around. Then came the
 A LARGE LUMP TO SWALLOW 151

tears. I tried to comfort her, but I didn't trust myself to talk. It

was all I could do to keep myself under control. Finally, she
forced a smile.
"It's such a shock," she said in a small voice, "but it's not the
end of the world. You still have us, and we believe in you."
In the Congress, I still had a few friends I could rely on. Sen.
Barry Goldwater came out to our home in Kenwood at my in-
vitation in mid-September. He was really annoyed when I told
him what had been going on—the leaks and the pressure from
the White House. He realized that the President's men were
doing me in. He had heard reports about Mel Laird being up
on Capitol Hill trying to cut my legs off by discouraging Repub-
lican congressmen and senators from coming to my defense.
Laird's warnings to Illinois Congressman John B. Anderson, for
instance, became public knowledge. So did Attorney General
Richardson's tip-off to Senate Minority Leader Hugh Scott of
Pennsylvania that I would be indicted by the federal grand jury
in Baltimore before the end of September {The Boston Globe,
September 13, 1973). The White House insiders continued to fear
that an impeachment hearing in my case would be harmful to
Nixon's hopes of holding onto the presidency.
Goldwater was outraged when he heard the whole story.
"Hang in there and fight it," he told me. "They're just trying to
ride you out. Go to the House, but don't tell the White House-
just go on your own."
The senator telephoned Bryce Harlow and complained about
the pressure being put on me to get out, then he flew home to
Arizona. Buzhardt and Harlow were alarmed at the prospect of
Goldwater rushing to my defense. They followed him to Scotts-
dale and showed him some of the trumped-up evidence against
me. Goldwater said he didn't "give a damn if Agnew was as guilty
as John Dillinger"; the Vice-President had the right of every
American to be presumed innocent unless proved guilty.
Goldwater's recent memoirs confirm my recollection of our
meeting at my home, and the subsequent events. In his book he
muses about why he instinctively advised me not to tell the White
House when I went to Albert. He says he knew Nixon did not
really like me; Goldwater had come to that conclusion after a
discussion of possible 1976 presidential candidates with Henry
Kissinger.
152 GO QUIETLY or else

So I gained another clue to the mystery of the President's

ambivalent position towards me and my plight.
For a while, I seriously considered closing my suite in the
Old Executive OfiBce Building next door to the White House and
moving lock, stock, and barrel to my small suite in the Senate
Office Building, thus symboHcally cutting loose from Nixon and
drawing into a tight shell to fight by myself. But I didn't see how
I could win that way, in the long run. And I still clung to the
hope that somehow the President would see what was happening
and come to my defense. So I listened to my lawyers and con-
sidered the terms we might get in return for my resignation.
After a weekend of prayerful thought, I told Judd Best on
Monday, September 17, that I would contemplate one concession
to the prosecutors: I would discuss pleading nolo contendere to a
single minor charge of underpaying my income taxes. I would do
so even though I did not really believe I owed the government
an extra cent. We had to do something to break the deadlock.
But this was not nearly enough to appease the voracious
appetites of Richardson and his men. They were out for blood.
They wanted me to crawl in surrender, plead guilty to a felony
such as bribery or extortion, and admit having received money
knowing it had come from engineers for the purpose of in-
fluencing state contracts. They prepared a letter to that effect for
me to approve. Of course, I had not the remotest idea of ever
groveling like that.
At the bottom of the letter from Richardson to Best was a place
for my lawyer to sign the statement: "I acknowledge and agree
to the terms and conditions set forth in this letter with the full
knowledge and authorization of my client, the Vice-President of
the United States." But I would not let my attorney sign it. I
would never agree to that. Later, the prosecutors insisted that I
admit the charges that later made up their famous "forty pages
of evidence." That was an insult to my intelligence. It would
have amounted to a confession of crimes I did not commit. Only
an idiot would have consented to barter away his own rights in
such a silly fashion.
I refused to admit any of the allegations, except the single tax
count. I rationalized that admission in my mind by thinking that
maybe I had retained a political contribution past the end of the
year before turning it in; and, therefore, it should have been re-
 A LARGE LUMP TO SWALLOW 153

ported as income for that year. I had to find a point of accom-

modation. Besides, I wasn't pleading guilty to anything; nolo
contendere meant I didn't choose to contest the accusation. I
insisted that I be allowed to deny everything else— to say, "This,
by God, is all Tm not contesting and the rest is false."
If they were going to say those things against me, I insisted
that I must have the right to deny them. Unfortunately for me,
very few people are aware that I denied those charges when I
resigned. Pages and pages have been written about the charges
but hardly anybody ever writes about my denial. Usually the
public is left to believe that I remained silent in the face of all
those allegations of bribery, extortion, and conspiracy.
A memorandum by George Beall, in the Justice Department's
files, shows how Richardson and his men kept insisting upon "the
letter" at a meeting with my lawyers on September 18 in the
Attorney General's office. Henry Petersen said a full statement
must make crystal-clear that at this point in history, the "people's
interest" was being fully served. He mentioned "political pres-
sures" which required the prosecutors to be careful to avoid
future charges that they had treated my case differently from
those of other citizens.
"We want to avoid attacks on this point," Petersen said.
Martin London said that I did not want to be attacked, either.
"Your client could be the attacker six months hence," Petersen
said.*
"I can't stop that," London replied.
"We, for the government, are convinced of the need for this
letter and its contents," Richardson said. "This is a situation
where, whatever else occurs, the stepping down of the Vice-
President is a portentous step in the history of this government.
The result of that action, and acceptance of a conviction and
* In order to allay Petersen's fear that I might attack the Justice Department,
my lawyers had drafted an obsequious statement for me to make. The state-
ment, which Richardson subsequently ridiculed before his Justice Depart-
ment associates, ascribed to Richardson, the prosecutors and the White
House only the loftiest motives for my prosecution. I gagged when the
statement was presented to me, but I was told that it was the only way
that Richardson might agree to abandon his insistence on the letter admitting
my guilt of bribery and extortion. The statement was to insure him against
future attack by me should I pubHcly reject the plea bargaining and claim
that the Justice Department was trying to railroad me out by suggesting I
plead to a minor charge.
154 GO QUIETLY or else
judgment, must be perceived by the public as just.
"There is also the President/' Richardson went on. "He should
not be perceived as railroading the Vice-President out of his job.
It is essential that the Vice-President not be able to walk out of
the courtroom, hold a press conference and suggest that, while
denying all guilt, he was forced to step down. The only way to
avoid that contingency is for him to acknowledge in open court
the substance of the government's case."
Petersen said the government wanted a recitation of sufficient
"facts" to support the charge of conspiracy to bribe.
"I am sure not going to stand mute to new charges of *Water-
gateV' Richardson said. When my lawyers requested the specific
charges against me, he responded, "We are not at the stage where
the defense is entitled to a bill of particulars or prosecutorial dis-
covery. We must have an eye on the degree of disclosure should
negotiations abort."
London asked again why the government was insisting upon
"the letter."
It was to avoid "the danger of being trapped," Richardson
replied.
"How could the government be trapped?" London inquired.
Richardson said he might be accused of trying "to suck the
Vice-President into a ihodest charge to get him to resign, all
contrary to his best interest."
Best said I would be willing to plead nolo contendere to one
tax count. But Petersen said the government was not prepared
to agree to that because "the investigation was incomplete on
this point." He preferred "a bribery or extortion count," but, of
course, that was ridiculous. I was innocent of those accusations
and would never plead otherwise.
On Wednesday, September 19, my three lawyers met again
with Richardson, Petersen and Beall in the Attorney General's
office. Topkis reported that I was "just adamant" that I would
"never accept the obloquy of a felony— this is a matter of tre-
mendous magnitude."
Richardson said he would "flag that as a potential rock on
which the discussions may eventually founder."
Topkis said I would plead nolo contendere to a charge con-
cerning a single payment to me, even though I knew the wit-
nesses were lying when they claimed they had paid me kick-
 A LARGE LUMP TO SWALLOW 155

backs, that I would prefer to vindicate myself before a jury, but

I did not think it would be in the national interest to have a long,
protracted contest.
Richardson replied that he, too, had great concern over a
prolonged battle; this would be extremely damaging because the
Vice-President is in line of succession, and the whole world is
aware that the President is a mortal man, subject constantly to
great risks and with responsibilities of "portentous significance."
For his successor to be carrying on a fight to prove his innocence
on charges brought by the prosecutive arm of the federal gov-
ernment would have "a seriously unsettling effect" on the nation.
So once again, the Attorney General revealed his dread that
Mr. Nixon might leave the presidency by one avenue or another
at almost any moment, before I could be removed from the line
of succession— hence Richardson's frantic rush to make me resign.
Admitting that the American people already had "a profound
suspicion" about the Justice Department, the Attorney General
feared it could suffer "a damaging scar" if accused of improperly
handling this case. "There could be speculation about the pres-
sures on the Vice-President from the President to resign,"
Richardson said. Indeed, so! And who would know more about
those pressures than he, himself— unless it might be General
Haig?
Topkis said the first consideration of terrible importance was
that I would be forced to resign before entering my plea, and
that would be in the public mind "the largest admission imag-
inable." But Richardson said he would require more than the
mere statement, "Once I received money and everything else the
government says is a lie."
Richardson was concerned he might be hurt by "a charge of
cover-up" and the possible claim that the government granted me
too much leniency to induce me to resign. He worried over two
things: first, the suggestion that "a weakened President was de-
termined atall costs to cut this albatross from his neck" and that
the government accepted my resignation without giving the
people a chance to understand the case; second, his personal
position.
He knew that friends of the Vice-President desperately wanted
to believe in his innocence, and some were saying Richardson
himself was motivated by presidential ambitions. He was also
156 GO QUIETLY or else
aware the prosecutors were being accused of overzealousness in
going after the Vice-President. That combination, he said, could
create "tremendous doubt about the integrity of the approach"
taken by the government in this case.
Topkis insisted I would never authorize him to sign the re-
quested letter "or anything like it"; that I would not agree to such
an admission of crimes under any circumstances. Richardson said
if I would not acknowledge "the vahdity of the government's
case," he would insist upon a plea of guilty to a felony.
"That is a large lump to swallow," Topkis said.
Richardson said he could not understand that statement; the
government had never indicated a willingness to think in terms
of a mere misdemeanor.
Topkis replied there was no possibility I would make a guilty
plea.
Best said he, too, could not go out of the room leaving the gov-
ernment with the impression his client was "talking about plead-
ing guilty to anything." He said I could conceivably plead nolo
contendere to one tax count only, with a firm and clear under-
standing that "there would be no confinement."
My resignation and plea would be "a great tragedy," Topkis
emphasized. He said there was absolutely no chance I would
plead guilty or accept a jail sentence; that everyone was wasting
his time unless those two possibilities were totally excluded. "My
client protests his innocence," Topkis said, "and is not about to
do anything inconsistent with that."
Richardson retorted that while he had hoped the allegations
would not stand up, he had become convinced I could not make
any explanation "consistent with innocence." He said the gov-
ernment could not accept both a nolo contendere plea and my
refusal to acknowledge "the substantial validity of the govern-
ment's case." He refused to see that such an acknowledgment
would amount to a confession— which I positively would never
make.
So we faced a deadlock. I had offered to resign only on one
condition: a nolo contendere plea to a single minor income tax
count, in return for an ironclad guarantee of my freedom.
Richardson insisted I must plead guilty to a felony and run the
risk of prison. I instructed my lawyers to say his price was too
high: I would never pay it— never!
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THE PRESIDENT WILL

CALL FOR YOUR RESICNATION

On that same day, September 19, General Haig gave me new

proof of his determination to drive me out of the vice-presidency.
He said the prosecutors would soon seek my indictment by the
Baltimore grand jury and make their case public, and immedi-
ately after that, "the President will call for your resignation."
This was a threat to strike terror into any mans heart. Al-
though Iknew Mr. Nixon would prefer that I resign as a con-
venience tohim, I had been counting on him at least to stand by
me publicly or to stay neutral— not to join my enemies openly.
This, I thought, would be a rather strange reward for my loyal
support of the President in all his troubles over Watergate!
Indignantly I told the General, "The President is not giving me
the same presumption of innocence that I gave him on Watergate.
I want to talk to the President. I insist upon seeing him now."
In the back of my mind was the question, How much of Nixon's
policy toward me was really his own, and how much was dic-
tated by Haig?* The President insulated himself so well it was
impossible to find out which orders came from him and which
from the people around him.
The next day I met with Mr. Nixon and asked him to support
me in my fight for my life. I said, "I have not misused the public
trust."
"I believe you," he said.
Then I told him that Richardson was being totally unreason-
able and wanted me to admit to multiple crimes I hadn't com-
mitted. He wanted me to grovel before the world.
"Will you support me?" I asked. "It is impossible to do any-
thing else but fight."
* According to former White House aide, Charles Colson, Haig, in January
1974, told the Pentagon to ignore Nixon.
157
158 GO QUIETLY or else

He hedged. "You must do what is best for you and your fam-
ily/' he replied.
Then I said, "I would be willing to resign and plead nolo
contendere to a tax misdemeanor to end this whole miserable

business." But I emphatically added I would not step down unless

absolutely guaranteed that I would not be prosecuted on any
felony charges such as bribery or extortion. I said Richardson
was demanding I admit the government's case was valid, but I
would never do that. I would defy him, probably be indicted, and
I would take my chances on a trial in court, rather than crawl.
The President must have realized that a long, drawn-out trial
not only would be ruinous for me, it would also be disastrous for
him. His overpowering desire was to save himself in his struggle
for survival against the Watergate special prosecutors who were
relentlessly closing in on him.
It was hard for me to believe that this President would become
my enemy. I was not his enemy; I was just one of the worst
complications he could have had. He was trying to consolidate
his problems into as small a ball as possible and deal with them
head on, and anything on the periphery added trouble. As I left
his office, I felt sure I had convinced him that I would fight all
the way if Richardson did not come around to my terms for
resignation.
After my conference with Mr. Nixon, Richardson was sum-
moned to the White House to receive his new orders. Haig and
Buzhardt, under instructions from the President, told the Attor-
ney General he must not force the country into "the nightmare of
a trial" by insisting upon unreasonably harsh terms that would
cause me to fight it out in court, rather than resign.
Richardson resisted; he had his heart set on making me plead
guilty and admit the "validity" of the government's case. The
prosecutors in Baltimore put pressure on him to stand firm. They
had glorious visions of dragging me into court, convicting me,
and sending me off to jail in a sensational case that would in-
scribe their names in the history books forever, as the brilliant
young lawyers who had brought down a villainous Vice-President
of the United States.
Meanwhile, my three lawyers were going through another
round of verbal punching and counterpunching with Richardson,
Petersen, and Beall in the Attorney General's office. Beall's own
 THE PRESIDENT WILL CALL FOR YOUR RESIGNATION 159

account of this session shows that Topkis began by saying his

client wanted to bring about sli\ end to all the controversy and
"to buy peace for himself and his family." He warned that I had
been receiving advice to "make a fight of it," to attack the leaks
from the Justice Department and to run an all-out campaign for
public support. This was true.
Richardson looked over a revised version of the statement
which my lawyers had prepared for me. He rejected it, saying he
"could not escape the dilemma" of my refusal to make an admis-
sion of guilt.
Richardson handed my lawyers his own version of the state-
ment he wanted me to make. They studied it in private and
rejected it as "unsatisfactory." The Attorney General said he
would accept a plea of nolo contendere but only if coupled with
an admission of my "basic complicity" in the offenses alleged by
his witnesses against me. The Vice-President, he said, must admit
enough so that reasonable persons would conclude that he was
"guilty of significant violations of the law."
"I thought it was clear to you," he told my attorneys, "that
the points in our letter constituted the irreducible floor of the
government's
Richardson position."
was determined I not be allowed to walk out of
the courtroom, after having entered a plea of nolo contendere,
and assert I was an innocent man whose plea was activated only
by considerations of the cost to the nation and himself that would
arise from a long trial, and that these considerations made it
expedient for me to fight for my rights.
Richardson said he "could not leave open for history to ques-
tion as to whether Mr. Agnew was, or was not, guilty and whether
or not he, in resigning, 'bowed to pressures.' "
I can assure him now, as I did in 1973, that I was innocent; and
that I "bowed to pressures" in resigning— as the disclosures in
this narrative show.

Petersen chimed in that it was "terribly important" for the

public to believe the Justice Department was not an "instrumen-
tality ofpartisan politics" and the only way to avoid that was not
"a groveling confession but a sufficient admission of guilt" so
it would appear that the government had pressed its case.
Topkis said that in accepting campaign contributions from con-
tractors while I was serving as Governor of Maryland, I had fol-
160 GO QUIETLY or else
lowed the common practice of officials in many other states. In
his home state of New York, he said, all contractors made cash
payments in return for state work; this was the standard way of
raising money for political campaigns, and he did not see why his
client was being asked to make an admission that was incon-
sistent with that premise.
Richardson said it had been his "fervent hope from the begin-
ning" the evidence would sustain a defense that the payments in
Maryland had been political contributions, but he believed the
evidence did not sustain that conclusion.

"The government witnesses are liars," Topkis said. He noted

that Hammerman, for example, even told lies about little things,
such as saying he had gone to grade school in Baltimore with me—
whereas I had never met the man until many years later. Richard-
son retorted that Petersen had interviewed the principal govern-
ment witnesses and analyzed the available proof and could not
believe that "the Vice-President did not know what was going

on."
Topkis said I was not asserting that the government's case
against its witnesses was only "a figment of somebody's imagina-
tion," but I was totally unwilling to acknowledge the existence
of a criminal scheme that involved my receiving tainted money.
Richardson said he could not leave open the question of my
"deep involvement in very serious criminal conduct." Topkis
said he had never heard of the government insisting on such an
admission of guilt by an innocent person in settling a case.
"I have certainly never been involved in settling a case which
will be written about forever," the Attorney General replied. He
insisted upon my admission of guilt so that after I resigned, there
would not be "an endless swirl of debate such as that which
surrounded the Dreyfus and Sacco-Vanzetti cases."
It is quite significant that the Attorney General cited these
examples as comparable to my case. Captain Dreyfus, a loyal
officer in the French Army, was railroaded to Devil's Island for
years of unjust imprisonment chiefly because he was a Jew, in a
frame-up that involved the Establishment in turn-of-the-century
France. Emile Zola, the novelist, eventually achieved Dreyfus'
vindication and freedom by exposing the entire corrupt scheme
and revealing the identity of the true spy. Major Esterhazy, who
had framed the innocent Dreyfus. Zola won international fame
 THE PRESIDENT WILL CALL FOR YOUR RESIGNATION 161

with his sensational accusations and his cry, 'Taccuser

Clearly, the Attorney General feared that I, too, could win
vindication as Dreyfus did, by showing how an innocent official
could be pressured into resignation and disgrace through the
relentless efforts of political enemies within his own party's ad-
ministration. Richardson in effect said. When we force Agnew out
of the vice-presidency, we must make sure he cannot convince
the people that he was framed, too.
Topkis noted that both of the cases cited by Richardson had
resulted in trials and even then they stirred up public debate. He
refused to recommend to his client that "he commit suicide or
plead guilty." Topkis also pressed hard on one more extremely
important point: that I would not go to jail after pleading nolo
contendere on the single count of tax evasion. That was an abso-
lute must. Richardson did not want to make a recommendation
to the judge against "no jail." If he did so for me, he said, he
might have to do it for all the others accused in the case. "If I
bite the bullet on no jail,' " he said, "it would be understood that
we have then renounced any expectation of jail for the others."
Not necessarily, Topkis replied. The government could pro-
ceed against the men accused of the payoffs— if the prosecutors
had not promised them immunity. As the whole truth emerged
in subsequent years, it became clear that the prosecutors had
bought the testimony of my accusers by offering them (except
Green, who bought his brother's freedom) the highest possible
price: their freedom.
John F. Banzhaff, III, a George Washington University pro-
fessor, filed a brief requesting that a special prosecutor be as-
signed to my case. He contended that Richardson, being a po-
tential presidential contender against me in 1976, had a clear
conflict of interest. The issue, of course, became moot with my
resignation.
On September 19, I received some welcome encouragement
from an unexpected source. The Governor of Georgia, Jimmy
Carter, telephoned me and expressed his sympathy over the
abuse I was suffering from the prosecutors and my own adminis-
tration. Although he is a Democrat and I am a Republican, Carter
and I had become friends through my work as a link between the
White House and the governors.
I told Carter I felt as if I were "fighting a division with a
162 GO QUIETLY or else

platoon." He urged me to keep up the battle, and not to resign

under fire. When he told the incredulous press corps in Atlanta
about his call to me, the governor explained that he and I had
become "very close," and he believed I was not receiving fair
treatment.

"I felt," Carter said, "he needed to hear a friendly voice."

While I find myself in frequent disagreement with President
Carter over both domestic and foreign policy, I still respect his
attitude toward the presidency and his fairness to individuals.
When I was under heavy fire in 1976 for saying that our attitude
toward Israel was affected by the preponderance of Israel's sym-
pathizers in the big news media, the press carried reports that
the B'Nai B'Rith Anti-Defamation League had written to both
President Ford and candidate Carter soliciting a rebuke of me.
Both obliged, and I felt constrained to write a personal letter to
each which I had hand-delivered, explaining that my position was
not anti-Semitic and that I felt I had a right to comment about a
foreign nation, namely Israel. Carter sent me a warm, hand-
written reply, although he disagreed on the subject at hand, but
Gerald Ford has yet to give me the courtesy of any acknowledg-
ment.
 CHAPTER FOURTEEN

PAL, IT'S A DAMN SHAME

On September 22, The Washington Post printed a story dis-

closing that my lawyers and the Justice Department had been plea
bargaining for my resignation. CBS News said Henry Petersen
claimed he had the evidence to convict me on bribery and kick-
back charges. Petersen was quoted as saying, "We Ve got the evi-
dence. We've got it cold."
Naturally, these reports, which were picked up and repeated
all across the land throughout the weekend, infuriated me. I had
no doubt they were deliberately leaked by the Justice Depart-
ment to wreck my credibility with the millions of Americans who
still believed in me despite the calculated campaign of vilification
being carried on by men in my own administration.
"They are out to disgrace and dishonor me," I told Judd Best.
I decided to break off the bargaining sessions then and there, and
to fight it out— in Congress or in the courts, if necessary. "Im
through with it,*' I said. "Even if I lose, I'm going through with
it rather than capitulate.
"If we have to go to war," I said, "we will blow a lot of people
out of the water."
On Tuesday morning, September 25, I met the President again
and told him I had decided to wait no longer to take my case
to the House of Representatives. I would seek a hearing there in
hopes of winning vindication. I would arrange for a meeting that
afternoon with the Speaker of the House, Carl Albert.
"I am innocent," I reiterated. I charged that the Attorney
General— who with Petersen had left the Oval OflBce moments
before my arrival— was determined to wreck me with tainted
testimony. He had informed the President he was taking the case
to the grand jury that day. Petersen had repeated his feeling that
it was an "open-and-shut case."
163
164 GO QUIETLY or else

"Im going to take my case to the House leadership early this

afternoon/' I told Nixon.
"Wait until four o clock," he said. He wanted to be sure that I
would provoke no sudden moves in Baltimore.
He telephoned the Justice Department and made sure the
prosecutors had not yet gone to the grand jury. Mr. Nixon wanted
to keep the way clear for me to resign. He knew that I had not
moved an inch from my refusal to step down unless assured that
I could maintain my innocence of the bribery and extortion
charges, and be assured that I would keep my freedom.
I suggested the President go on television and tell the people
that I could not have a fair trial in view of the countless leaks
against me. I was sure that most of them had come from the
Justice Department and some from the White House staff.
Instead of a TV appearance, the President issued a statement
about our meeting. He said:

. . . During our discussion, the Vice-President again

—as he had done in our previous meetings— denied the
charges that have been made against him. He also in-
formed me that he intended to request that the House
of Representatives undertake an inquiry into the matter.
I wish to emphasize my strong belief that during these
proceedings the Vice-President is entitled to the same pre-
sumption ofinnocence which is the right of any citizen,
and which lies at the heart of our system of justice. During
these past four and a half years, the Vice-President has
served his country with dedication and distinction. He
has won the respect of millions of Americans for the candor
and courage with which he has addressed the controversial
issues of our time. As he moves through this difficult
period, I urge all Americans to accord the Vice-President
the basic, decent consideration and presumption of inno-
cence that are both his right and his due.
I returned to my office where my attorneys were waiting. The
following recitation of events is taken from an aide memoir I
dictated that same day:
"After consultation with the attorneys, it was determined that
we should move quickly to request a hearing in the House under
the Calhoun precedent. It was decided that I should hand-deliver
 PAL, ITS A DAMN SHAME 165

a letter to the Speaker and should speak with him alone first,
then attempt to have him bring in the Joint Leadership for
discussion.
"In order to protect against leaks as far as possible, I tele-
phoned Mr. Albert about 2:30 p.m. and requested to see him
at 4:00 p.m. at his office in the Capitol. He seemed curious, but did
not press for details after I had indicated that it was a matter
of urgency. He asked whether I would prefer to meet him at his
private office where the chance of my being seen would be
lessened. I stated that the media had me under heavy surveillance
and that confidentiality was virtually impossible; that therefore,
I preferred to see him at his principal office.''
I would take with me a written request to Speaker Albert for
a full inquiry by the House of Representatives. In it I cited a
similar appeal made by Vice-President John C. Calhoun in 1826,
when he was accused of having made profits from an army
contract when he was secretary of war in President Monroe's
administration. My letter to the Speaker is so important as a
clear exposition of my views about the constitutional status of the
Vice-President, that I am quoting it here in full:

Dear Mr. Speaker:

I respectfully request that the House of Representatives
undertake a full inquiry into the charges which have ap-
parently been made against me in the course of an in-
vestigation bythe United States Attorney for the District
of Maryland.
This request is made in the dual interests of preserving
the Constitutional stature of my Office and accomplishing
my personal vindication.
After the most careful study, my counsel have advised
me that the Constitution bars a criminal proceeding of any
kind— federal or state, county, or town— against a President
or Vice-President while he holds office.
Accordingly, I cannot acquiesce in any criminal pro-
ceeding being lodged against me in Maryland or else-
where. And I cannot look to any such proceeding for
vindication.
In these circumstances, I believe, it is the right and
166 GO QUIETLY or else

duty of the Vice-President to turn to the House. A closely

parallel precedent so suggests.
Almost a century and a half ago, Vice-President Cal-
houn was beset with charges of improper participation in
the profits of an army contract while he had been Sec-
retary of War. On December 29, 1826, he addressed to
your Body a communication whose eloquent language I
can better quote than rival:

"An imperious sense of duty, and a sacred regard to the

honor of the station which I occupy, compel me to ap-
proach your body in its high character of grand inquest
of the nation.
"Charges have been made against me of the most serious
nature, and which, if true ought to degrade me from the
high station in which I have been placed by the choice
of my fellow-citizens, and to consign my name to perpetual
infamy.
"In claiming the investigation of the House, I am
sensible that, under our free and happy institutions, the
conduct of public servants is a fair subject of the closest
scrutiny and the freest remarks, and that a firm and faith-
ful discharge of duty affords, ordinarily, ample protection
against political attacks; but, when such attacks assume
the character of impeachable offences, and become, in
some degree, official, by being placed among the public
records, an officer thus assailed, however base the instru-
ment used, if conscious of innocence, can look for refuge
only to the Hall of the immediate Representatives of the

People . . ."
Vice-President Calhoun concluded his communication
with a "challenge'* to "the freest investigation of the House,
as the only means effectually to repel this premeditated
attack." Your Body responded at once by establishing a.
select committee, which subpoenaed witnesses and docu-
ments, held exhaustive hearings, and submitted a Report
on February 13, 1827. The Report, exonerating the Vice-
President of any wrongdoing, was laid on the table (to-
gether with minority views even more strongly in his
favor) and the accusations were thereby put to rest.
 PAL, IT S A DAMN SHAME 167

Like my predecessor, Calhoun, I am the subject of pubUc

attacks that may "assume the character of impeachable
ofiEences," and thus require urgent investigation by the
House as the repository of "the sole Power of Impeach-
ment" and the "grand inquest of the nation." No investiga-
tion in any other forum could either substitute for the
investigation by the House contemplated by Article 1,
Section 2, Clause 5 of the Constitution or lay to rest in a
timely and definitive manner the unfounded charges
whose currency unavoidably jeopardizes the functions of
my Office.
The wisdom of the Framers of the Constitution in
making the House the only proper agency to investigate
the conduct of a President or Vice-President has been
borne out by recent events. Since the Maryland investi-
gation became a matter of public knowledge some seven
weeks ago, there has been a constant and ever-broadening
stream of rumors, accusations and speculations aimed at
me. I regret to say that the source, in many instances, can
have been only the prosecutors themselves.
The result has been so to foul the atmosphere that no
grand or petit jury could fairly consider this matter on the
merits.
I therefore respectfully call upon the House to discharge
its Constitutional obligation.
I shall, of course, cooperate fully. As I have said before,
I have nothing to hide. I have directed my counsel to
deliver forthwith to the Clerk of the House all of my
original records of which copies have previously been
furnished to the United States Attorney. If there is any
other way in which I can be of aid, I am wholly at the
disposal of the House.
I am confident that, like Vice-President Calhoun, I shall
be vindicated by the House.
Respectfully yours,
Spiro T. Agnew

The following description of what transpired in Speaker Albert's

ofiice is taken directly from a "recollection of events" I dictated
that day;
168 GO QUIETLY or else

"Accompanied by Mr. Arthur Sohmer, I arrived at the House

side of the Capitol at about 3:57 p.m. Walter Mote [my Senate
assistant] had met us on the steps at the Senate side, got into the
car and accompanied us to the Speaker's office.
"One of the Speaker's aides took me immediately into his
private office, where I waited alone about five minutes while he
was summoned from the Chair. Art Sohmer waited in the outer
office. The Speaker then entered from a private entrance, not
going through his outer office, greeted me cordially, and we sat
down to talk. I told him that this was an unprecedented occasion
and that I appreciated his courtesy and prompt cooperation about
the meeting. I then handed him the letter and asked him to read
it. He read the letter very deliberately and slowly, and I could
see that he was attempting to make some basic decisions about
how to handle the situation.
"When he had finished reading, I explained the difficulties 1
was having with the prosecutors in Baltimore and with the De-
partment ofJustice. I told him that Richardson would probably
be in touch with him to request that I not be given a hearing
by the Congress at this time because the grand jury was the
proper forum. I explained that a fair hearing in Baltimore was
impossible.
"Albert seemed sympathetic. At that point he summoned Lew
Deschler, the House parliamentarian, for advice. Deschler read
the letter. His first reaction did not seem too receptive to the
idea, particularly when we began to discuss whether this was
properly a matter for consideration by the Judiciary Committee
or a Select Committee. Of course, I preferred the Select Com-
mittee because the makeup of the Judiciary Committee was
rather heavily liberal; and they would probably not be too
friendly. Deschler seemed to feel that the Judiciary Committee
was the proper forum of consideration, whereas Albert seemed
to be leaning toward the idea of a Select Committee. At this
point, I fully believe that Albert was inclined to use the power
of his office to see that I got a hearing of some kind, or at least
an investigation.
"Deschler then suggested that Albert call in the Majority
Leader and the Chairman of the Judiciary Committee. Because
I had already suggested it to Albert, he decided to call both the
Majority and the Minority Leadership and the Chairman of the
 PAL, IT S A DAMN SHAME 169

Judiciary Committee and the ranking Republican member of that

Committee.
"After a short wait, in came 'Tip' O'Neill, Jerry Ford, John
McFall, Peter Rodino and Ed Hutchinson.* Copies of the letter
were distributed to them, and a general discussion began. It was
not until five minutes later that Les Arends, the Assistant Minority
Leader, came in.
"There was a great deal of conversation about the letter; and
the leadership, with the exception of O'Neill, seemed to approve
of the idea of the House doing something about my request.
Rodino was immediately and outwardly hostile, and I got the
impression that the Judiciary Committee had already begun
certain pre-impeachment investigations because of the newspaper
accounts and that Rodino preferred that I be summoned before
the House to defend myself rather than go there on my own
initiative.
"O'Neill kept saying that he didn't see why the House should
get involved in the matter and that in his opinion it was certainly
a situation that the full House should decide. Ford then said that,
as a practical matter, that meant it was for the Democratic mem-
bers to decide.
"By this time, the situation seemed quite confused; and I sug-
gested that they might wish to discuss it without my being
there. Previously there had been talk between Albert, the parlia-
mentarian, and the leaders about how it should be placed before
the House. It was decided that Albert should read the letter to
the House before I released any copies of it.
"Some thirty minutes after my discussions with the Speaker
began, all parties except myself left the office while Albert read
the letter to the House."
They then returned to the Speaker's office for private discus-
sions. Ihad waited until the matter was placed on the public
record so that the media would not be informed by me, but by
the Speaker's action in reading the letter.
"Just before I left the office. Tip O'Neill came over to me and
* Thomas P. (Tip) O'Neill, D-Mass., House Majority Leader, later Speaker;
Gerald R. Ford, R-Mich., House Minority Leader, later President; John Mc-
Fall, D-Calif., House Majority Whip; Peter Rodino, D-N.J., House Judiciary
Committee chairman; Edward Hutchinson, R-Mich., senior Republican on
the Judiciary Committee.
170 GO QUIETLY or else
said he was terribly sorry I was having all the trouble, and his
words, as I recall them, were: Tal, ifs a damn shame.'
"Ed Hutchinson was also very sympathetic and spoke with me
personally, saying that he would do everything possible to help.
At that point I called in Art Sohmer and told him to release the
letter to the press through Walter Mote, Marsh Thomson and
himself and to have Mike Dunn deliver copies to the White
House press ofBce. Mote hand-delivered copies to the Senate
leadership, and a copy was hand-delivered to Attorney General
Richardson.
"As I left the oflBce, approximately one hour after entering,
there was a tremendous crowd outside in the corridor— mostly
members of the media who were pushing, shoving and shouting
questions. I told them that the letter spoke for itself and released
the letter to them, at which point we returned to the Executive
Office Building."
If I had been really guilty, it would not have been logical for
me to seek a hearing, which almost certainly would be televised,
before the House or one of its committees. I was willing to
testify in person and face my accusers. I wanted to see those
frightened people testify on national television. I do not believe
they would have been credible witnesses. Ifs very difficult to
be a calm liar with the camera recording your every move. I
can visualize Matz in the witness chair, fidgeting and wringing
his hands; Wolff— so nervous and jumpy he once had threatened
to commit suicide— furtive, sweating, voice cracking; Green, oily
and unctuous, eyes shifting rapidly; Hammerman, too bluff and
hearty to be believed. Under cross-examination, they would have
had to reveal all their illegal deals with each other and their
understandings with the prosecutors that they would be given
light treatment in return for their testimony against me. I believe
that I would have survived an impeachment hearing; if not, I
would have been acquitted after a trial by the Senate.
Some of my Republican friends in the House had advised me
that the Speaker would be heavily pressured by fellow-Democrats
to keep his hands off the case and let the administration deal
with it. However, Albert was not a total partisan; he had been a
hawk on defense and foreign policy, opposed to Communist
aggression, under both Democratic and Republican Presidents.
He placed national security ahead of politics.
 PAL, IT S A DAMN SHAME 171

Albert was also aware of this situation: if I should leave the

vice-presidency, Mr. Nixon would name my successor. But his
nominee must also be confirmed by the House and the Senate,
both dominated by the Democrats. Suppose my successor's con-
firmation could be stalled for weeks or even months; suppose,
also, that Nixon should meanwhile leave the presidency by death
or resignation—either of which could happen. Then Albert himself
would become President. The Speaker, a man of small stature but
great integrity, refused even to think of attaining the presidency
by partisan trickery.
I later found out that Tip O'Neill strongly urged the Speaker
to keep out of my case and let me stew in my own juice. His
sympathy apparently was not genuine.
Albert's own memoirs, tape-recorded by the United States
Capitol Historical Society, show that he called the House Judiciary
Committee chairman, Peter Rodino, and asked if he would take
over the investigation of my case. Rodino, a New Jersey Democrat,
replied: "We don't think much of it. It's always been our policy
to let the courts carry through with a case." All the Democratic
leaders in the House gave similar advice.
Then the Speaker recalled, "I got a call from the Attorney
General, Elliot Richardson. He said, 'We're taking Agnew over
to the grand jury today, and in my opinion, he will be in-
dicted . . . I'm not telling you what to do, I'm just telling you
what I think is going to happen.' "
Albert assumed that Richardson was acting on the President's
instructions in warning him not to become involved in my case.
"I'm sure— knowing Richardson— he would have told the President
this before he would have told me," the Speaker said. "He wanted
me to know that the civil processes were at work, and that he
thought the first step was going to be unfavorable to Agnew;
and I imagine he thought that was reason for us to wait before
we did anything else."
Albert was puzzled by Richardson's warning. "The whole thing
seemed sort of funny to me," the Speaker said. "I thought then
that the President was trying to help Agnew. Agnew didn't think
so, and certainly it didn't jibe with what the man who had the
power was saying— that was Richardson."
Obviously, Richardson moved fast to cut off a House inquiry
that could have run for months and prevented my quick resig-
172 GO QUIETLY or else
nation. Albert announced the next day, September 26, that since
the matter was before the courts, he would not intervene.
Just as Richardson had told the Speaker, the prosecutors
started summoning witnesses before the Baltimore grand jury. On
September 28, my attorneys filed a motion with the court to
"enter a protective order prohibiting the grand jury from con-
ducting any investigation looking to possible indictment of appli-
cant and from issuing indictment, presentment, or other charge
or statement pertaining to applicant." We based our pleas on
two points: (1) "The Constitution forbids that the Vice-President
be indicted or convicted in any criminal court." (2) News leaks
by the Justice Department itself had so "grievously abused" my
rights that they made it impossible to win "a fair hearing on the
merits, by either grand or petit jury."
"We have arrived at a firm conviction that personnel of the
Department of Justice have engaged in a steady campaign de-
signed to deprive the Vice-President of the basic right of a free
man: the right to be judged fairly, on the merits, without preju-
dice," my lawyers charged. They said the flood of leaks made it
clear that "the Vice-President is the victim of a deliberate cam-
paign, calculated and intended to deprive him of his basic rights
to due process and fair hearing."
Not only my attorneys, but much of the world at large was
concerned about the effect of the leaks on my civil rights.
Senator Ted Kennedy had this to say: "The White House and
the Department of Justice have an obligation of fundamental
fairness to let the investigation take its course, free of the per-
vasive current atmosphere of a kangaroo trial by undisclosed
sources. Vice-President Agnew has conducted himself with
dignity in recent weeks. He deserves the nation's respect for his
demeanor in this unprecedented situation."
Jerry Greene of the New York Daily News said, "A lot of face-
less bureaucrats have been using the press to convict" Agnew.
Vermont Royster of The Wall Street Jotirruil said I contended
with Justice that the constant flow of leaks, rumors, and plain
errors published in the newspapers and broadcast on the airwaves
impaired my right to a fair hearing before the country. Royster
questioned whether the people's right to know embraces a right
to every rumor, gossip or hearsay conversation regardless of how
prejudicial to justice. He quotes an editor from The Washington
 PAL, IT S A DAMN SHAME 173

Post who disagreed with him as saying, "So some guy has trouble
getting a fair trial ... by the pursuit of the First Amendment.
So be it."
William Raspberry, writing in The Washington Post, said,
"Agnew the politician is dead already, and Agnew the human
being is close to it. In both cases, the fate may be deserved. The
point is, he's been hanged without a trial." "What isn't forgiv-
able, in the name of justice," continued Raspberry, "is that so
many unchecked and uncheckable particulars of the allegations
against him were made pubHc, primarily through leaks to news-
men. For as a result, there is no longer simply a suspicion of
wrongdoing hanging over his head; it has come to the point where
many people only wonder how much graft he took, not whether
he took it."
In a powerful column that speculates on the outrage that would
have resulted had Dr. Spock or antiwar militants been subjected
to the treatment I was receiving, John P. Roche had this to say:
"In short, with the Attorney General providing the background
music, we have Spiro Agnew indicted, convicted, impeached,
convicted, and replaced by a nonpolitical figure— all before there
has been a single formal legal move against him." Quoting
F.D.R.'s famous maxim to define the situation, Roche observes,
"It all depends whose child has the measles."
Even my old ideological adversary, the American Civil Liber-
ties Union, agreed that "the government's selected disclosures of
prejudicial material . . . marred this investigation."
In the motion, my lawyers cited a series of stories based upon
information from Justice Department sources, cHmaxed by the
CBS quotation from Henry Petersen, "We've got the evidence.
We've got it cold."
William Safire, writing in The New York Times in two sepa-
rate columns, examines the famous Petersen leak, before and
after a defense by William Ruckelshaus, and concludes that the
statement is equally damaging whether coming directly from
Petersen to reporter Fred Graham, or not. In this regard. The
Boston Globe report of the Petersen quote, "We Ve got the evi-
dence. We've got it cold," goes on to state that "Richardson re-
Petersen made that
statement. portedly sat by in approving silence" when
A report in The Washington Post September 5 revealed that
174 GO QUIETLY or else
Elliot Richardson stated he had been told by the news media
that his Justice Department was in fact the source of leaks
against me. Notwithstanding that admission, Justice has con-
tinued to deny to this day that it was responsible for the leaks.
Without doubt, the most lucid and cogent recounting of the
Petersen incident was done by columnist William A. Rusher.
It is worth reprinting here.

The Conservative Advocate,

October 10, 1973
WILL NIXON FIRE PETERSEN?
by William A. Rusher
When even Tom Wicker, who holds the leftist portfolio
over at The New York Times, admits that Vice-President
Agnew's rights "obviously have been imperilled by the
damaging news leaks about his case," it may fairly be as-
sumed that the stench of injustice is getting pretty bad.
And when Wicker's colleague Bill Safire, whom the Times
hired a few months back to balance Wicker, calls upon
his former boss President Nixon to fire Assistant Attorney
General Henry Petersen, we are presented, for the first
time in this sorry story, with an identified source of at
least part of the trouble, and a means of remedying it. The
question now is whether Mr. Nixon will do anything
about it.
The sequence of events is important:
1. On September 22 CBS news correspondent Fred
P. Graham broadcast a report, based on an anonymous
"source close to the negotiations" then going on between
Agnew's lawyers and various Justice Department officials
(including Attorney General Elliot Richardson and his as-
sistant Henry Petersen, head of the Criminal Division),
that Petersen had privately told Agnew's lawyers, "We've
got the evidence. We've got it cold"— meaning, of course,
evidence that the Vice-President was guilty of bribery,
extortion, fraud, and conspiracy. (According to Deputy
Attorney General Ruckelshaus, however, Mr. Petersen as
of October 1 could not remember ever having made such
 PAL, it's a damn shame 175
a statement, nor could Attorney General Richardson re-
member having heard him make it.)
2. Nevertheless, the next day (September 23) New
York Times correspondent John M. Crewdson, in a dis-
patch the Times ran as its page 1 lead, picked up the CBS
story and repeated it— apparently without bothering to
ask either Richardson or Petersen whether it was true.
Crewdson neglected to mention that the CBS report was
based on an anonymous "source." Instead, his account
merely asserted that, according to CBS, Mr. Petersen was
confident that the Vice-President could be convicted, and
added:
"The network quoted Mr. Petersen as saying:
We Ve got the evidence. We Ve got it cold.' "
That was the form in which the story went around the
world. It is hard to imagine anything more damaging to
Mr. Agnew. Here was the head of the Criminal Division
of the Department of Justice, quoted (falsely, according
to his own reported recollection) in America's leading
newspaper as proclaiming the irrefutable guilt of the Vice-
President of the United States.
3. What do you suppose Mr. Petersen, who can't recall
saying any such thing, or Mr. Richardson, who can't re-
member hearing it, did to correct this deadly impression?
Nothing; nothing whatever. For five harrowing days they
simply let Spiro Agnew "hang there," in John Erlichman's
immortal phrase, twisting "slowly, slowly in the wind."
For three more, after James Reston reported Agnew's
fury, their press spokesmen were authorized to tell any
reporter who asked, that Petersen had never spoken to
Graham; but nobody seems to have cared. Finally Presi-
dent Nixon instructed his own counsel to ask Richardson,
for the public record, whether Petersen was in fact the
source of the CBS story. Why, no, replied Richardson on
October 1; no, indeed. On that same day, as we have al-
ready seen, Ruckelshaus went further and admitted that
neither Petersen nor Richardson could remember the
statement ever having been made at all.
Now, it is probably true that such busy men as Peter-
176 GO QUIETLY or else
sen cannot be expected to correct every misstatement. It
was an all but lethal blow at a Vice-President who hadn't
even been indicted, let alone convicted, and who is just
as entitled to fair treatment as anybody else. What chance
is there, do you suppose, that he will now receive it from
the grand jury in Baltimore, under the guidance of Peter-
sen's subordinate George Beall?
There is a well-known principle of law called "es-
toppel," under which a person to whom a statement is
publicly attributed, and who deliberately fails to repudi-
ate it, in legal effect becomes its author by virtue of his
silence. Henry Petersen may not have made the statement
that so gravely and unjustly injured Agnew, but his de-
liberate silence in the face of its constant and deadly repe-
tition amounted to the same thing. The question now is
whether Richard Nixon is prepared to demonstrate, by
firing Mr. Petersen, that justice must be done, even to
Spiro Agnew.

My lawyers pointed out that the news stories mentioned in

their brief were fairly representative of hundreds of similar
stories. "Taken together," my lawyers stated, "they permit only
one possible explanation; a number of oflScials in the prosecu-
torial arm of our government had misused their ofiices in an
immoral and illegal attempt to drive the Vice-President from
the ofiice to which he was elected and to assure his conviction.

"The prosecutors have clearly accomplished their objective,"

the lawyers went on, because hardly anyone in the United States
could not have heard or read "the outrageous statements which
the prosecution has leveled at the Vice-President," so it has be-
come impossible to obtain a fair consideration of the case. "Morn-
ing, noon, and night, by newspaper, magazine, television and
radio— the Vice-President has been ripped and flayed by the
prosecution— and all of this before any determination has boon
even made as to whether any evidence may constitutionally be
presented to a grand jury."
Topkis set out to subpoena the newsmen who had written the
stories and ask them, first, did they write the story? And, second,
did they really get it from Justice Department sources? If the
reporters said the answer was "yes" on both points, my lawyer
 PAL, IT S A DAMN SHAME 177

would tell the court that there was clearly a prima facie case
showing the government had, indeed, violated my rights and
thus had wrecked any chance of a fair trial.
The giants of the media, whose reporters were subpoenaed,
struck back with a roar of self-righteous protests. They charged
that we were threatening their First Amendment rights of free-
dom of the press, and the writer's right to keep all of his sources
confidential. My chief tormentors— T/ze Washington Post, The
New York Times, the newsmagazines and the TV networks— saw
visions of martyrdom ahead, as some of their star reporters might
have to face contempt of court or even prison to maintain the
sanctity of their sources, real or fictitious.
They had reason to worry, because of the jurist selected to
preside over the case: U.S. District Judge Walter E. Hoffman
of Norfolk, Virginia. Judge Hoffman, for good reason, dishked
and distrusted reporters. He believed excessive publicity could
violate a defendant's right to a fair trial, and he was old-fash-
ioned enough to believe that that superseded the privileges of the
media to get the news.
In another move, I granted a background interview to New
York Times columnist James Reston who wrote on September 27,
"Vice-President Agnew has made up his mind about the next
phase of what he calls his 'nightmare.' He does not intend to
resign, even if he is indicted by the Baltimore grand jury, but to
fight for exoneration through the courts, and keep appealing to
the House of Representatives for a full and open hearing, no mat-
ter how long it takes." Of all the high officials of the Times, Res-
ton was the one I knew and I trusted. I found him to be an
honorable man, although Mr. Nixon disliked him and repeatedly
warned me against tmsting him.
Then I took off for Los Angeles to address the National Fed-
eration of Republican Women. On the way, I stopped at Palm
Springs to visit my friend, Frank Sinatra.
As does every Vice-President, I met a lot of celebrities during
my years in office— famous names in the fields of entertainment,
sports, and the arts. Most of them were fine people, and I keep
in touch with quite a few who have gone out of their way to be
supportive and helpful during my difficulties. Francis Albert
Sinatra, however, falls in a special bracket, a bracket of one.
When the deluge of adverse publicity began to descend on me
178 GO QUIETLY or else

following the leaking of the prosecutors' letter informing me that

I was the subject of a criminal investigation, Frank immediately
had flown to Washington to offer legal assistance and support.
He made his lawyer, Mickey Rudin, available to me for con-
sultation. He spent hours counseling with me, making suggestions
and above all doing his best to keep my spirits up. During the
rough months preceding my resignation, it was seldom that a
day passed without a telephone call from Francis. "I just wanted
to check to see how things are going . . . Can I do anything

forWeyou?"
were very close— are still very close— so it was natural that
I stopped at his home in Palm Springs before my scheduled
speech to the Republican women.
The day before we played golf, although my mind was far
away from the game. That evening Frank cooked some pasta for
Judy, me, and the few staff members who were accompanying
me. Then we all sat around the living room to talk about "the
case." Frank was outspokenly in favor of my going on the offen-
sive, and thought I should make it clear to the public that I was
being destroyed by the systematic ignoring of my constitutional
rights. Everyone wanted me to take off the gloves and fight back,
and most thought the Los Angeles rally would be a perfect
forum. However, I was depressed about the failure of our at-
tempt to gain a hearing in the House of Representatives and the
duplicitous actions of the President; who, it was now clear to see,
was not being candid with me. Nevertheless, I feared totally
alienating a man who held so much power and who was being
driven to the wall by the Watergate prosecutor and the news
media.
We retired quite late, and I spent a restless night— confused,
angry, and hurt by my inability to do anything about a steadily
deteriorating situation.
The next morning we flew to Los Angeles. As I sat in the plane
looking over the prepared speech that I would be delivering in
less than two hours, it suddenly struck me that it just wouldn't
do. Those women, and all my supporters out there, were entitled
to know how I felt— what was happening. I began to make some
notes on the back of an envelope I found in my pocket. My mind
was clear, logical. The ideas flowed. It felt right, very right.
I decided to cut down on the prepared speech and "wing" the
 PAL, it's a damn shame 179

thoughts I was noting at the end. I didn't say anything to anyone,

but suddenly the depression was gone. I felt confident, ready for
the battle.
Two thousand Republican women cheered me as I walked out
onto the speaker's platform. Some were waving signs that ex-
pressed their faith in me: "Agnew for President" and "Spiro My
Hero." I knew, in my heart, that I was finished as a candidate
for the presidency. But I was determined that I would fight to
save my life from ruin.
Gazing directly into the television cameras, I launched my ofif-
the-cuff attack upon the Justice Department and its leaks to the
media. "In the past several months I have been living in pur-
gatory," said.
I "I have found myself the recipient of undefined,
unclear, and unattributed accusations that have surfaced in the
largest and most widely circulated organs of our communications
media. I want to say at this point— clearly and unequivocally— I
am innocent of the charges against me."
This declaration touched off tremendous applause. Raising my
voice to be heard above the women's cheers, I pressed on: "I
have not used my office, nor abused my public trust as county
executive, as governor, or as Vice-President, to enrich myself at
the expense of my fellow Americans.
"I say this to you," I declared, "that conduct of high officials
in the Department of Justice, particularly the conduct of the chief
of the criminal investigation division of that department, is un-
professional and malicious and outrageous, if I am to believe
w^hat has been printed in the newsmagazines and said on the
television networks of this country, and I have had no denial that
this is not the case.
"Now people will say to me: 'Why? You don't make sense.
Why should a Republican Department of Justice and Republican
prosecutors attempt to get you?' Well, I don't know all the an-
swers, but I will say this— that individuals in the upper profes-
sional echelons of the Department of Justice have been severely
stung by their ineptness in the prosecution of the Watergate case.
They have been severely stung that the President and the At-
torney General have found it necessary to appoint a special
prosecutor, and they are trying to recoup their reputation at my
expense. I'm a big trophy.
"And one of those individuals has made some very severe
180 GO QUIETLY or else
mistakes, serious mistakes. In handling his job he considers him-
self a career professional, in a class by himself, but a recent
examination of his record will show not only that he failed to
get any of the information about the true dimensions of the
Watergate matter, but that he also through ineptness and blunder
prevented the successful prosecution of high crime figures be-
cause of wiretapping error.
^Those are the reasons why he needs me to reinstate his
reputation as a tough and courageous and hard-nosed prosecutor.
Well, Tm not going to fall down and be his victim, I assure you."
Insisting that I was the victim of witnesses who told lies against
me to save their own skins, I said that was why I had asked the
House to make a thorough inquiry into the case. "What I want
is not a suppression of the facts but the fullest possible hearing
of them, widely publicized before the people of the American
nation, so that everyone knows exactly what is going on in this
nation," I said. "Im not trying to hide anything."
Then I brought the women to their feet, cheering, when I de-
clared: "Iwant to make another thing so clear that it cannot be
mistaken in the future. Because of these tactics which have been
employed against me, because small and fearful men have been
frightened into furnishing evidence against me— they have per-
jured themselves in many cases, it's my understanding— I will not
resign if indicted. I will not resign if indictedr
 CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A CANDLE IS ONLY SO LONG

When I made my defiant speech in Los Angeles, I was fully

determined to carry my fight all the way to final victory or defeat.
My back was to the wall. I was so fired up that I dared the
Justice Department to do its worst— take the case to the grand
jury, try to get an indictment, and then try to take me to trial.
Although I knew it would be virtually impossible to find a
jury in Baltimore that would not be prejudiced against me, I still
felt in a fighting mood. There was much left in the struggle
and quite a few intangibles. First, there was the constitutional
question of whether a Vice-President is subject to indictment.
Then there was the motion to block testimony before the grand
jury because of the prejudicial leaks. Would the House at some
point begin impeachment and take the case temporarily away
from the court? Would a change of venue be granted to get the
matter away from Baltimore? Would the court find I couldn't
get a fair trial anywhere in the country because of the swath of
national publicity? Or would a six-month or one-year delay
be ordered to let the publicity abate? All these questions, and
the two levels of appeals from each of them, would take a great
deal of time. The fully fought battle could easily consume the
better part of three years. My term in ofiice had three years and
a half yet to run.
My speech not only evoked roars of enthusiasm from the Re-
publican women and an echoing surge of support from people
across the country, it also touched off a wave of anger and fear
inside the White House. General Haig telephoned the news to
the President, who was at Camp David wrestling with the prob-
lems of holding onto his tapes that had been subpoenaed by
Watergate Special Prosecutor Archibald Cox.
Mr. Nixon was desperately determined to keep those incrimi-
181
182 GO QUIETLY or else

nating tapes out of the prosecutor's hands. Indeed, he was already

casting about for some excuse to fire Cox. On the day before my
Los Angeles speech, I learned later, the President had confided
to Richardson that he was looking forward to getting rid of the
Agnew problem so that he could then fire Cox. Nixon was totally
obsessed with his own difficulties, and I was an added complica-
tion to be removed as quickly as possible without arousing my
many friends in Middle America.
General Haig evidently feared that I was declaring war, not
only on the Justice Department but on the entire administration.
The White House and Justice— probably at his instigation— leaked
out a false story that I had a "phased escalation plan for a four-
stage assault'*: first, to attack Henry Petersen; then Beall, then
Richardson, and finally the President. Such a thought had never
crossed my mind. I was dealing with the immediate problem of
Petersen's damaging quotes, which had not been denied. I am
convinced that Haig devised this tale in order to persuade the
President that he had to get terribly tough with me because he
would be my ultimate target; that Nixon, who had thus far
specialized in public statements that gave lukewarm support
to his Vice-President, had better attack me before he himself
was attacked.* Haig must have told Nixon, "Agnew has gone
wild— attacking Petersen, saying he will not resign. You may be
next. We've got to lower the boom on him now"
At this critical flash point, my fledgling press secretary, Marsh
Thomson, committed a blunder of horrific dimensions. Without
consulting either me or senior staff, on Tuesday, October 2, he
hinted to reporters that I would deliver more heavy artillery in
a speech scheduled two days later in Chicago. Thomson was try-
ing to whip up press interest in the coming appearance. I guess
he thought he was doing me a favor. His remark, seeming to
confirm the Haig escalation theory, was widely reported. It hit
the White House like a bomb. Haig called my Chief of Staff,
Art Sohmer, and told him that the President wanted no more
speeches of the Los Angeles type, and that Thomson must be

* Columnist Hugh Sidey put it this way: "If the White House had hired
Madison Avenue counsel to devise a script to humiHate Agnew and raise
rumors that he might not be wanted anymore, they couldn't have done it
better."
 A CANDLE IS ONLY SO LONG 183

silenced. I had already told Sohmer that Thomson, who had made
earher blunders, was no match for the hungry Washington press
corps, and must be relieved immediately.
The next day, Mr. Nixon said at a rare informal press con-
ference that the charges against me were serious, not frivolous.
He went out of his way to defend Henry Petersen, thus signaling
the end of White House neutrality. Unable to be unequivocal,
he threw a small sop to me to placate my Middle America sup-
porters. He said my decision not to resign was an "altogether
proper" one. The President had been assured by Richardson that
Petersen had not been the one who leaked his comment, "We've
got the evidence. We've got it cold" to the press.
As far as I was concerned, it made no difference whether it
was Petersen or someone else in the Justice Department who
leaked the remark. It became public, attributed to Petersen, and
it was never denied. The damage was done just as effectively as
if Henry Petersen had gone on the TV and announced it to the
world.
While we are considering the professionalism, restraint, in-
tegrity, and impartiality of Henry Petersen, let me relate the fol-
lowing revealing information, taken from my notes in 1973.
I received information from a network TV reporter (who
called to see if we knew anything about it ). He had learned from
sources in the Justice Department that about a week after Petersen
had gone to Baltimore to confer with the U. S. Attorney, he held
a meeting with three other top people at Justice. The purpose
of the meeting was to explain his attitude and outline his ap-
proach to my case. The reporter said that Petersen had made it
unmistakably clear he was determined to "get me," and used that
expression. Petersen, the sources alleged, had stated he intended
to resign and make public all of his deep dissatisfaction with
the administration as a whole unless he were given full rein in
the prosecution of my case.
Petersen had further indicated to the sources that he had de-
manded to be the one who would go to Baltimore and consult
with the U. S. Attorney, and that he intended to continue insist-
ing he should have full charge so there could be no allegations
he conducted his business under pohtical influence.
Two of the participants in the meeting corroborated the above
184 GO QUIETLY or else

to the reporter and indicated that Petersen seemed totally dedi-

cated to -seeing me convicted. When the reporter approached
Petersen, he denied it.
The reporter said the station's policy is not to use such a denied
report without a third confirming source which is being actively
pursued. Apparently, the reporter was not successful in getting
the third confirming source, because the story never surfaced.
Mr. Nixon said the Attorney General had told him again there
was no evidence to back up my charges about the leaks from
the Justice Department. But my lawyers were pressing in court
to get exactly that evidence from the mouths of the reporters
involved.
On the same day that Nixon chatted with the press. Judge
Walter Hoffman convened the Baltimore grand jury members
and sternly admonished them to make their decisions on the
evidence given to them in secret session, not on the news reports.
"Unfortunately, in the present-day grab for priority in getting
news items, the news media frequently overlook the rights of
others, especially where criminal matters are involved," the judge
said in his charge to the grand jury. "We are rapidly approaching
the day when the perpetual conflict between the news media,
operating as they do under freedom of speech and freedom of
the press, and the judicial system, charged with protecting the
rights of persons under investigation for criminal acts, must be
resolved."
Judge Hoffman also disclosed that he had sent Topkis a letter
about my charges of unfair publicity and leaks, and dispatched
a copy of it to Henry Petersen. He wrote: "Gentlemen: Relating
solely to the publicity question raised by the applicant, unless
the brief of the Department of Justice persuades me to the con-
trary, Iam presently inclined to the belief that the applicant
would at least be entitled to an evidentiary hearing on his charges
that the prosecution was responsible for the allegedly prejudicial

(leaks )."
Judge Hoffman called my lawyers and the three prosecutors,
Beall, Skolnik, and Liebman, to a private meeting in the Bahi-
more federal courthouse and told them of his plans. He scheduled
a closed hearing on Friday, October 12, and since Petersen had
told him the statute of limitations was an important issue in the
case, said he would make a ruling on the civil suits by October
 A CANDLE IS ONLY SO LONG 185

19. Martin London said I would like to start taking depositions

on the leaks at once and the judge agreed. Hoffman said he
wanted to be there when the witnesses were questioned, so that
he could ask some questions, too. He clearly indicated that any
newsman who refused to talk could be held in contempt of court.
Judge Hoffman accepted Topkis's list of witnesses to be de-
posed, starting with Elliot Richardson, Henry Petersen, and
George Beall, and going down the line through reporters for
major newspapers, newsmagazines, and television networks.
Beall sent a memorandum to the Justice Department pro-
posing that the government contend I had no standing to inter-
fere with a grand jury proceeding. Assuming that Judge Hoffman
would go ahead with his evidentiary hearing, Beall said it must
be restricted to the charge by Topkis that "officials of the prose-
cutorial arm have engaged in the steady campaign of statements
to the press."
Furthermore, the U. S. Attorney urged the government to file
a counter-suit claiming that "the Vice-President, his staff, and
his attorneys are just as likely sources of news media stories, and
request that counter-depositions be ordered by the court to ex-
plore that assertion." So once again, Beall revived the "red her-
ring" claim that I— or my aides— leaked information terribly
damaging to myself. This was ridiculous, and typical of the cheap
and sleazy tactics of my oppressors.
Before we could proceed with our battle on the news leaks,
however, I had to deal with the most pressing problem of all—
the President's attitude toward me in the wake of my Los
Angeles speech. I had that very much in mind when I flew to
Chicago on October 4 to address a United Republican fund-
raising dinner.
As soon as I arrived in Chicago and checked in at the Drake
Hotel, I met with W. Clement Stone, the well known Republican
fund-raiser who had agreed to be cochairman of the Agnew De-
fense Fund.
Sometime earlier, it had become obvious that a long and very
costly legal struggle was about to ensue. Because I had no assets
of this magnitude, my advisers suggested an independent fund
be set up to solicit contributions from the public for my defense.
Former Democratic Governor of Missouri Warren Hearnes, a
highly respected chairman of the National Governors' Confer-
186 GO QUIETLY or else
ence, along with Senator Barry Goldwater and W. Clement Stone,
agreed to serve as cochairmen of the Agnew Defense Fund. The
fund operated out of Stone's Chicago office.
There were reports the fund did not do well; that Stone had
been disappointed in the response when I met with him in Chi-
cago. Actually, contributions were coming in nicely despite the
debilitating leaks to the media. In the three months that it oper-
ated, the defense fund raised and disbursed to the lawyers its
total assets of $81,725. When I resigned, the fund was closed and
the trustees offered to return any contributions that donors might
want to request be sent back, but very few requests were made.
In fact, money kept coming in that had to be returned because
the fund had been dissolved.
When I walked to the lectern at the Chicago rally, my voice
and general demeanor revealed that I was a changed person.
The reporters were puzzled. They thought I looked sick.
I told them, "Tonight is not going to be an X-rated political
show. It's just going to be PC. So if you have to go someplace,
"
go. I said: "A candle is only so long before it burns out."
Then
David Broder, the journeyman political analyst of The Wash-
ington Post, said I looked like a man who had been kicked in the
groin or had received some terrible news. Broder was right on
both counts. I have kept this a secret for over six years but now
it must be told.

Not long before our scheduled departure time for Chicago on

October 4, I received an indirect threat from The White House
that made me fear for my life.
Shortly before 1 p.m.. Art Sohmer came into my office and told
me that Gen. Mike Dunn, my military aide, wanted to see the
two of us in the military office about a matter of extreme urgency.
When I expressed surprise that Mike had not come to my office,
Sohmer made motions that revealed he feared my office was
bugged.
Accompanied by Sohmer, I went immediately to the military
suite, where Dunn quickly took us both into the office of my pilot,
Lt. Col. Keith Garland, and closed the door. Dunn, nearly always
a calm, self-assured individual, was grave and more tense than I
had ever seen him. He recounted a shocking story. Here is the
 A CANDLE IS ONLY SO LONG 187

memorandum for the record that General Dunn dictated at that

time:

At 11:45 A.M. on October 4, I met with General Haig

in his office at his suggestion, in response to a telephone
call. Peter Malatesta [a special assistant to the Vice-Presi-
dent] was with me in my office at time of call and for that
reason knew of visit. Others who know of the occurrence
are Haig's [mihtary] secretaries, Major Joulwan and Lt.
Colonel Brennan. We met alone, however, so presumably
he and I were aware of content. I subsequently debriefed
STA [myself] and AJS [Arthur J. Sohmer] privately in
Garland's office.
Haig began by stating that he had been briefed on the
evidence on STA and it was massive. Buzhardt was abso-
lutely convinced of his guilt— four men would testify that
a conspiracy existed headed by STA. The testimony
would be interlocking and corroborative. It would not
simply be a case of one on one, which was apparently
what STA thought. Justice believes that it has an ironclad
case for conviction. They feel that they could move suc-
cessfully with what the IRS alone has produced. The 1968
income tax return by itself would provide a case. Haig
indicated "the clock is running— it will be too late once an
indictment is obtained to do this gracefully." Money can
be dried up— it's the President's men on whom STA must
depend. Stone [W. Clement Stone] specifically was await-
ing a call from Haig at the very moment. There are many
people with one foot in each camp. Haig knows of every
phone call made by STA. Conversations were also not un-
known. Nixon has been completely supportive to date.
Once "facts" are made known to people, further support
from Nixon impossible.
In response to a direct question, Haig agreed that it was
resignation that was wanted. In response to a further
question as to "what was in it for STA," he responded
that since this was the patriotic thing to do, this would
be recognized. There would be no economic worry for
debts or for defense and the like. In return for an admis-
sion of guilt on the tax charge, there would be no further
188 GO QUIETLY or else
trouble with the federal government and no jail sentence.
Haig stated that the NY law firm does not care in the
least about STA and how badly he may be bruised by
this. They simply are using him to get at Nixon. The local
lawyers [Best and Buzhardt] are appalled by the way the
case is going. They feel that "he is about to kill himself."
In any event, after indictment, we are off to the races and
cannot control the situation any longer— anything may be
in the offing. It can and will get nasty and dirty. "Don't
think that the game cannot be played from here."
I indicated I was personally convinced of STA's essen-
tial innocence. I had been close to him throughout and
he had repeatedly looked me in the eye and repeated his
statement of innocence. I was still unwilling to think of
him as guilty of other than minor indiscretions in handling
campaign funds. I asked further exactly what Haig
wanted of me— did he wish that I leave the staff? He
answered "No," that was the last thing he wanted. He said
he was seeking someone who had STA's ear to convey a
message. I responded that I did have his ear on most
matters, but that legal matters had been left largely in
the hands of the lawyers. Haig went on to state that both
Arends [Congressman Leslie C. Arends] and Ford had
been briefed on the case and were strongly against STA
going to the House. STA does not enjoy anything like the
amount of support on the Hill that he thinks he does. The
President recently had remarked that STA seemed to be
on a collision course with him despite his frequent re-
assurances that this was not the case. He made specific
reference to the speech in Los Angeles and to Marsh
Thomson's remarks quoted in papers regarding the forth-
coming Chicago appearance. I responded that Thomson
had been fired and the President so informed— the Chi-
cago speech would give him no problems.
Haig went on to say that STA was primarily concerned
with economic questions. In earlier negotiations he had
asked for economic help and when it was not forthcoming,
he withdrew from negotiations. He repeated again that
Nixon has been completely supportive to date but— STA
should have faith.
 A CANDLE IS ONLY SO LONG 189

With regard to the so-called leaks from WH, Haig said

there have been no leaks from the top. They did not get
the information from topside, but rather from the old-boy
net.
He stated that he would check again with Fred Buz-
hardt but was convinced that whether STA was guilty or
innocent, guilt would be the verdict in court. Conversa-
tion concluded on this note and Haig departed to Key
Biscay ne and promised to get in touch again.

Haig's threat made me realize, with a sickening shock, that I

had finally lost the last slim thread of hope that the President
would help me in my fight. On the contrary, he had turned
against me and become my mortal enemy. Haig insinuated that
if I went against the President's wishes and refused to resign,
there would be no more help from the White House to prevent
a jail sentence and no assistance with the I.R.S., finances, placing
my staff, or the other carrots Buzhardt had dangled. I would be
on my own and the full penalties would be assessed. Stone would
withdraw from the Defense Fund. Nixon would publicly blast
me, turn the prosecutors loose, and I would go to jail.
Dunn also informed me that the net-worth investigation of my
finances had been stepped up. I was to be warned that "I should
not forget that my wife was involved in our joint tax return; if I
were
blow found
of all.criminally liable, she could be, too." It was the lowest
There was no way I could win, now. With the President
coming out against me, I was doomed.
General Dunn told me that General Haig also reminded him
about the great power of the presidency, saying, "The President
has a lot of power— don't forget that."
His remark sent a chill through my body. I interpreted it as an
innuendo that anything could happen to me; I might have a
convenient "accident." What had Haig meant when he said
"anything may be in the ofiing"?
I was close enough to the presidency to know that the office
could exert tremendous power. I had attended secret sessions of
the National Security Council and knew something about the
functioning of the intelligence community. I knew that men in
the White House, professing to speak for the President, could
190 GO QUIETLY or else
order the C.I.A. to carry out missions that were very unhealthy
for people who were considered enemies. Since the revelations
have come out about the C.I.A.'s attempts to assassinate Fidel
Castro and other foreign leaders, I realize even more than before
that I might have been in great danger. Haig's words to Dunn
that after indictment "anything may be in the oflBng" could only
be construed as an open-ended threat.
I did not know what might happen to me. But I don't mind
admitting I was frightened. This directive was aimed at me like
a gun at my head. That is the only way I can describe it. I was
told, "Go quietly— or else."
I feared for my life. If a decision had been made to eliminate
me— through an automobile accident, a fake suicide, or whatever
—the order would not have been traced back to the White House
any more than the "get Castro" orders were ever traced to their
source.
Perhaps I overreacted, but my mental state after months of
constant pressure was hardly conducive to calm and dispassionate
evaluation.
The American people should know that in the last hectic year
or more of his residence in the White House, Richard Nixon did
not actually administer all the powers of the presidency. As I
have stated earlier, it was General Haig who was the de facto
President. Haig had the power of the bureaucracy at his com-
mand, and the Washington insiders knew he was standing there
behind Nixon, pulling the strings. Haig had direct connections
with the C.I.A. and the F.B.I, and every other agency. For four
years he had been Henry Kissinger's chief deputy with clear
access to all the government; his power extended into any agency
he chose. The very survival of the Nixon presidency was threat-
ened.

Many who are familiar with General Haig's career are con-
vinced that a man does not, in only a few years, climb through
the upper echelons of the army— from a one-star to a four-star
general's rank— to be the President's top civilian aclviser, without
being totally self-centered, ambitious, and ruthless. I believe that
this man who jumped so easily from general to civilian back to
general had placed himself in the position where he took actions
far exceeding the proper authority of White House staff per-
sonnel. He apparently felt that the President, because of the
 A CANDLE IS ONLY SO LONG 191

Watergate pressures, was incapable of making the right decisions,

SO the general probably made them in his name. Mr. Nixon did
not have the stomach to confront me openly, so it is logical to
conclude that Haig took over and determined how to force me
to get out. I believe that by using the "escalation theory" after my
California speech, he deliberately influenced Nixon to acquiesce
in the decisive move against me: the threat to play nasty— and
dirty.
I am also convinced that Haig desired not only to move me
out, but in due course, after someone else had been brought into
the vice-presidency, to move Mr. Nixon out, too. I really think
that by this time, Al Haig already knew enough about the dis-
crepancies inthe tapes— and the truth about Nixon's involvement
in the Watergate cover-up— to be convinced that eventually the
President himself must go. And Haig did not want me in the line
of succession.
There is another important point: I had no idea how much hot
water the President was in. I did not believe the Watergate al-
legations, and I defended him. If I had known the truth about
his involvement and why he was withholding his tapes from the
special prosecutor, my actions would not have been as benign
as they were. I felt I had no chance to win a fight against the
President. If I had known how weak Nixon really was, I might
have fought it out.
I regret that I never confronted Mr. Nixon about the threaten-
ing message from Haig. I guess it was partly out of fear and
partly knowing from experience he wouldn't give me a straight
answer that I never asked Nixon if he personally authorized the
threat to "get nasty— and dirty." I suppose he would have denied
it. At the time, I could not bring myself to believe that the
President was not reluctantly being forced into this position by his
advisers. I did not have the advantage of hindsight, of knowing
for sure how I was being railroaded, until long after I was out.
Nixon pretended to help me get a hearing in Congress, yet we
now know that he had Mel Laird and others up there on Capitol
Hill warning Republicans to steer clear of me. In the end, the
President turned out to be nearly as devious as the Nixonphobes
claimed.
When he showed his true colors and turned against me, I
realized I had no hope of victory. There was one thing and only
192 GO QUIETLY or else
one thing that brought me back to the bargaining table with the
prosecutors: Mr. Nixon's threat, relayed by Haig, that things
would "get nasty— and dirty" unless I resigned at once. The
White House told Richardson I was driven back to the table by
the net-worth investigation, which was supposed to show I had
received huge amounts of tainted money. But that is an absolute
lie concocted to conceal the ugly truth: that Haig had put the
heat on me with his threats.
The net-worth investigation did not develop anything sub-
stantial, and what it did develop was in no way illegal. The
total "bulge" of income, apparently unreported for taxes over a
period of seven or eight years, was calculated by the I.R.S. to
be about seventeen thousand dollars. By my estimate of gifts
received during that period, I could see they would be unaware
of about twelve thousand dollars my friends had given me.
But these gifts were not taxable income and I had no obligation
to report them. My actual net worth was less than two hundred
thousand dollars. I had what was left of my small inheritance
from my father, the cash value of my life insurance— bought many
years before, and the comparatively small equity in my mortgaged
home. Part of the threat to me was the reminder that my wife
could be implicated in the tax charge; they could prosecute her,
too, because we filed joint returns.
The prosecutors insisted I had to plead guilty to some felony
charge. I told my lawyers, as I had told them before, "Fm not
going to plead guilty to bribery or extortion. If iVe got to do
something to settle this. Til plead nolo contendere to a tax
charge." They asked, "What tax charge?" I said, "Well, say that
in late 1967 I collected some contributions for the 1968 campaign,
and maybe held the money past the end of the year and didn't
me. it until the next year so that it was technically 'income' for
use
It was simply a rationalization so that I could tell the judge
I had received the money technically as unreported "income."
The tax collectors at the I.R.S. later took every bit of testimony
of my accusers as being true and billed me for taxes on my
fictitious income. When I protested, the I.R.S. officials said, "You
want to contest it? Take us into court." That would have meant
trying the same issues in a civil hearing and a further circus for
the news media, as well as heavy legal fees and a tremendous
 A CANDLE IS ONLY SO LONG 193

sacrifice of my precious time needed to start making a living

again. Moreover, I wanted to try my hand at international busi-
ness, because I knew it would be impossible for any U.S. company
to hire me without being pestered to death by my enemies. The
I.R.S. said they would have to have my passport lifted as I might
become an "absconding debtor.'' That would have made it im-
possible for me to do business overseas. They billed me for
$150,000 in back federal income taxes, including interest and
penalties. The irony is that I never got that money; I had to
borrow money to pay the taxes on income I never received.
As a condition of the settlement, I had to say in court the tax
evasion charge was true. In effect, I had to twist the truth to
make it possible for the judge to accept the settlement.
 CHAPTER SIXTEEN
GET THAT GUY OUT OF THERE

On Friday, October 5, upon returning from Chicago, I con-

ferred again with Judd Best and instructed him to call Fred
Buzhardt and start the bargaining again. "Go speak to Buzhardt,"
I said dejectedly. "See what can be done."
Best located Buzhardt at the President's retreat in Key Biscayne.
In slacks, sport shirt, and sun glasses, my attorney flew to Miami
International Airport. Buzhardt met him there after midnight.
Best checked into a motel and the two lawyers worked until
four o'clock in the morning, drafting the terms of a settlement.
Best returned to Washington where Buzhardt, after talking to
Nixon, telephoned him and said, "Everything is all right."
On Sunday afternoon, October 7, Richardson called his team
together for a conference on their strategy for the last play in the
game of "get Agnew." Russell T. Baker, Jr., filed a memorandum
which gives the full flavor of the meeting as these hunters moved
in on me for the kill. The following is a summary of the Baker
memorandum.
Richardson stressed that the war which had erupted in the
Middle East the previous day made it doubly imperative to move
me out of the vice-presidency. The President faced tremendous
new responsibilities as he strove to save Israel from the attack by
Egypt and Syria— the Arab forces, having a great advantage from
their surprise assault, were pressing forward relentlessly. Nixon
was determined to save Israel, but the Soviet Union would also
very likely intervene to prevent the defeat of the socialist Arab
countries. The world could conceivably be approaching the brink
of a nuclear catastrophe. Richardson had been worrying about
Nixon's emotional stability— or the lack of it— ever since the
President's illness in July; now, more than ever, the Attorney
General sought to kick me out and bring in a new Vice-President
194
 GET THAT GUY OUT OF THERE 195

who might, at any time, have to move into the White House.
The Yom Kippur War demonstrated "how important it was to
wind up this matter as promptly as possible," Richardson said. He
felt much more strongly about this now than he had two weeks
ago.
Richardson wanted someone in the line of succession to the
presidency who, like Nixon, would defend Israel, whatever the
risk to the United States. My resignation must be obtained im-
mediately.
The Baltimore prosecutors, however, were still not satisfied
without the last pound of flesh. Barnet Skolnik insisted that I must
sign a statement along the lines of the September 15 letter, which
I had spurned— or make admissions of guilt in court, conceding
the validity of the bribery charges. Skolnik even threatened to
break away from the team in protest. "I personally would find it
diflBcult to be involved in a disposition which I view as wrong in
principle," he said. "I might not be able to participate in the
court proceedings."
Skolnik said the public would ultimately learn that the Justice
Department had backed down from its "nonnegotiable stand" of
September 15 and wonder why the retreat came about— perhaps
because of Buzhardt's role and the Department's "embarrassment
about the leaks." Baker also urged Richardson to insist that I
make an admission of guilt. Petersen asked if the prosecutors
were not frightened by the prospect of my remaining Vice-
President.
Skolnik insisted, "Agnew will ultimately be forced to resign,
no later than the date he is indicted. We can indict him by the
end of October."
"Agnew's resignation is an important goal," Baker put in, "but
it is much more important to handle this matter in a way which
will not impair public confidence in the processes and institutions
of law enforcement."
"I don't believe I should play Russian roulette with the United
States over a few words," Richardson said. "Remember, we failed
to get an agreement during the last round. I am reluctant to take
a chance that an agreement can be reached later, so I am in-
clined to make one as soon as possible."
"I don't think Agnew will walk out of the courtroom and im-
mediately launch a new attack on the department," he added.
196 GO QUIETLY or else

Skolnik and Baker disagreed, saying: "Agnew's statement in court

won't be the last we will hear of him."
Richardson said, "The Vice-President is distraught and not in
a position to start any crusade to vindicate himself after the court
proceedings. I don t think that keeping Agnew from making some
self-serving statements is a su£Bcient basis for refusing to reach
an agreement with him."
Ruckelshaus protested that any public relief over the avoid-
ance of a prolonged constitutional confrontation would be short-
lived; he said the settlement of the case must insure long-term
public confidence in the Justice Department. Therefore, he op-
posed a"weak deal" that would give me any benefit.
Richardson told his aides they had not taken the full measure
of the damage that would be done to the country if this conflict
should run its course through Congress and the courts. The
proceedings would be "divisive and traumatic and could seriously
affect the capacity to govern," he said, in another reference to
the President's problems.
Richardson was gravely concerned that the President would
refuse to comply with a Supreme Court order to hand over his
tapes to Watergate Special Prosecutor Cox at the same time the
Vice-President was under indictment. Again, the Attorney Gen-
eral recalled how frightened he had been by Mr. Nixon's illness
in July, when the official report of "viral pneumonia" was sus-
pected of being a mask to conceal some more alarming ailment,
perhaps a stroke.
Then Richardson summed up his philosophy in these immortal
words: "I want the Justice Department to emerge from this mat-
ter in a way that will enhance public confidence, but it is more
important to get that guy out of there.'' (Emphasis added )
He assured his eager-beaver prosecutors they should feel free
to stay out of the court proceeding if they disagreed with the
deal, but he hoped they would not question his "honesty of
purpose." He had not come into the department with the idea it
would enhance his personal popularity, he said; he would take
the heat from the prosecutors. "I don't mind being known as the
guy who 'blinked' in the showdown," he said.
The next day, October 8, Judd Best telephoned me in New
York and outlined the proposed agreement. Under my instruc-
tions he told Haig and Buzhardt, "We will not do anything unless
 GET THAT GUY OUT OF THERE 197

Richardson and the Department of Justice assure us there will

be no incarceration." I was determined that unless they guaran-
teed me "no jail," there would be "no deal." I might just as well
take my chances with White House threats and a Baltimore jury,
prejudiced and biased as it might be, rather than resign the
vice-presidency and be railroaded to prison despite my innocence.
I was deathly afraid of a double cross.
My friends on Capitol Hill were trying to revive my proposal
for the House to stage a pubHc investigation so I could confront
my accusers and state my case to the American people through
television. Two Republican Representatives, Sam Devine of
Ohio and Bill Dickinson of Alabama, invited about a hundred
congressmen to breakfast on Wednesday morning, October lO—
the same morning I was scheduled to be in court— to discuss the
plan. Representative Joe D. Waggonner, Jr., a Democrat from
Louisiana, was asked to help assemble the band of hard-line
Southern Democrats who often backed the administration on
national defense issues. David Keene of my staff worked with
the congressmen on the breakfast project, but we had to call it
off at the last moment. Of course, we could not explain why.
I did see that my congressional friends were notified before
they learned from the wire what had prevented my appearance,
and why I had been so rude as to make such a late cancellation.
On October 9, Richardson and his aides met again with my
three lawyers and finally agreed to recommend that I keep my
freedom. That afternoon, the Attorney General told Judge Walter
Hoffman, "It is my recommendation that there be no term of
imprisonment."
The judge replied, "In the light of the overwhelming national
interest, I approve the agreement."
Later in the afternoon, my attorneys informed me that the
agreement had been made. I then wrote my letter of resignation
and a letter to the President. Arrangements were made to have
the resignation delivered to Henry Kissinger, the Secretary of
State. In the early evening, I went to the Oval Office to tell Mr.
Nixon officially that I was giving up the vice-presidency— that I
would resign the following morning. He had won.
The President told me he was grateful for my campaigning
and the way I had handled all my assignments. He asked about
Judy and others of my family, saying this tragedy must be pain-
198 GO QUIETLY or else

ful for them. "I know you have made this decision for the good
of the country," he said. "And also I believe that you are doing
the best thing for yourself and your family."
I looked at the President, his face gaunt and sorrowful. It was
hard to believe he was not genuinely sorry about the course of
events. Within two days, this consummate actor would be cele-
brating his appointment of a new Vice-President with never a
thought of me. But of course, I didn't know that. My eyes filled
at his solicitous words. I was conscious of how tragic the moment
was for me and my loved ones. Here I was in the Oval Office for
the last time, about to leave in disgrace the office I had fought
and worked for so hard. I felt no rancor toward Mr. Nixon, only
a heavy, burdening sadness. I was about to let a lot of people
down.
I said to the President: "I will make a speech to the nation.
It will be lofty in tone. The people's confidence in their govern-
ment must be restored. I will do all I can to be helpful to you,
Mr. President."
As I was leaving, Nixon put his arm around my shoulders,
shook his head, and said again how awful it all was. Incongru-
ously, Isuddenly had the feeling that he couldn't wait to get me
out of there. We shook hands and I walked numbly out of the
Oval Office— and out of the White House for what I supposed
was the last time.
This is the text of my letter of resignation:

October 10, 1973

Dear Mr. President:
As you are aware, the accusations against me cannot
be resolved without a long, divisive and debilitating strug-
gle in the Congress and in the courts. I have concluded
that, painful as it is to me and to my family, it is in the best
interests of the nation that I relinquish the Vice-Presi-
dency.
Accordingly, I have today resigned the Office of Vice-
President of the United States. A copy of the instrument
of resignation is enclosed.
It has been a privilege to serve with you. May I ex-
press to the American people, through you, my deep
 GET THAT GUY OUT OF THERE 199

gratitude for their confidence in twice electing me to be

Vice-President.
Sincerely,

Spiro T. Agnew

One of the questions I have been most frequently asked is,

"Why did you agree to the publication of the forty-page 'state-
ment of evidence' submitted by the prosecutors at the hearing
in Baltimore on October 10?"
This was a matter that my lawyers and I discussed thoroughly.
Fundamentally, there were two reasons why we did not contest
the making public of these damaging accusations. We were aware
they would be seized upon and referred to as evidence— and of
course they are evidence, in the sense that any testimony that
bears on a relevant matter is evidence. Yet, we did not anticipate
that * evidence," in the eyes of the public and especially the
news media, seems to mean something that has been proven
conclusively.
The evidence in the forty-page statement— which, as Judge
Hoffman pointed out, was totally irrelevant to the case before
him— was not proof, it was merely testimony and tainted testi-
mony, at that. It was simply what the prosecutors hoped to prove
by the testimony of witnesses who already had been promised they
would get off easy, or even scot-free, in return for implicating me.
Much of what is in the forty-page "statement of evidence" is so
clearly either hearsay or speculation that it would never be ad-
mitted in court.
The reasons we did not contest the publication of the state-
ment were twofold. First, we knew it would be leaked and would
be much more damaging if it dribbled out piecemeal along with
a lot of other accusations that were figments of someone's imagi-
nation. Second, and more importantly, we knew that without
some definition of which previously leaked accusations were
being laid to rest, another prosecutor could say he had discovered
new evidence of additional wrongdoing, heating up the pos-
sibility ofanother prosecution in the state courts. So I did not
contest their putting into the statement everything they thought
they had a chance of presenting in a credible fashion.
It is amazing how many times during the past six years that
200 GO QUIETLY or else
forty-page statement has been referred to and quoted from—
without the shghtest reference to the inadmissabihty of the
hearsay and speculation in it, or to my categorical denial of its
contents in open court the day it was presented.
There is another thing that needs to be said here. A plea bar-
gain is a bargain for both sides, not just the prosecution, because
the prosecutor isn't sure his witnesses will be believed. My ene-
mies have tried to make it appear that it was just a device to
gain me favored treatment.
 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

A JOYOUS PARTY IN THE EAST ROOM

President Nixon reacted with a burst of exhilaration on learn-

ing he had finally rid himself of his "Agnew problem." Even as
my car was conveying me away from the Baltimore courthouse
in the early afternoon of October 10, to join my family in mourn-
ing the death of my half-brother, the President was reported to
have been eagerly engaged in the delightful game of deciding
whom he should name as his new Vice-President. Eyewitnesses
said he exuded high spirits as he consulted a host of Republican
politicians about their suggestions for the choice.
His favorite, I had long ago known, was John Connally. As
early as October 6, four days before my resignation, the Presi-
dent had asked the former treasury secretary to accept the vice-
presidency. Both men knew it would give Connally a clear track
to the White House in 1976. Connally wanted it, but he backed
away when his enemies in both parties threatened to block his
confirmation by the House and Senate and to drag the hearings
on for many months. He was too new a boy in school to muster
support from the Republicans in Congress, and his recent defec-
tion from the Democratic party did not endear him to those on
the other side of the aisle.
By choosing Connally, Nixon would have become embroiled
in another vicious partisan dispute, exactly the thing he was try-
ing to avoid. So, with reluctance, he had to drop his favorite. He
feared controversy would also rage if he chose Nelson Rocke-
feller, Ronald Reagan, or Barry Goldwater, all of whom were
being strongly recommended by their friends. So he quickly
settled on Gerald Ford, the amiable Michigan congressman who
had achieved popularity, if not great distinction, as the House
minority leader.
Nixon ofiicially introduced Ford on the night of October 12 at
201
202 GO QUIETLY or else
a White House party, amid laughter and gaiety that made it seem
like the celebration of a great election victory—not the aftermath
of a stunning tragedy.*
I had become a nonperson. The Vice-President, who had shared
the tremendous victory in the national election less than a year
before, was suddenly hurled into outer darkness, into the limbo
of forgotten men. Mr. Nixon enthusiastically looked forward to
making a new start without me and finally freeing himself from
his Watergate entanglement. He hoped soon to be rid of the Spe-
cial Prosecutor, Archibald Cox, who was pressing for the release
of the incriminating tapes. Nixon naively believed that by throw-
ing me to the wolves, he had appeased his enemies and they
would stop clamoring for his blood. But he had merely whetted
their appetite for more.
Within eight days came the so-called "Saturday Night Mas-
sacre." Richardson resigned as Attorney General and Bill Ruckels-
haus as his deputy, after refusing to obey the President's order
to fire Cox. Robert Bork, the Solicitor General, was persuaded to
carry out the presidential execution, and the surprised president
suddenly found himself in the path of a hurricane. The furious
anger which he stirred up by kicking out Cox, led straight to-
ward his inevitable resignation the following August— to avoid
impeachment.
It is possible that I lost not only the vice-presidency, but the
presidency. For if I had carried on my battle for vindication
through the impeachment process and the courts, I would still
have been Vice-President at the time Nixon resigned. If he had
resigned I would then have become President. This was the one
event, as I have stressed, which Richardson was determined to
prevent no matter what happened.
Of course, Mr. Nixon could have used my refusal to resign as
an argument for his staying in office. This would have been the
more likely result. It is ironic that Nixon thought he was help-
ing himself by shoving me out; the truth is that if he had kept
me in office, he might have held onto the presidency. His enemies

* Washington Star columnist Betty Beall wrote, "What other President tossed
a joyous party in the East Room to announce a new Vice-President even
while the pictures of the former Vice-President were being rcmcned from
the walls of the West Wing?"
 A JOYOUS PARTY IN THE EAST ROOM 203

had to get rid of me first, then move a malleable man into the
vice-presidency (Gerald Ford admirably filled the bill), then
shove Nixon out and Ford in. They followed the script in one-
two-three order with perfect precision.
Too late President Nixon realized he had been suckered by
his foes into going along with my ruination, ostensibly to save
himself. In his Memoirs (page 1004) he says:
"Certainly the first major mistake was the appointment of
Richardson as Attorney General. Richardson's weakness, which
came to light during the Cox firing, should have been apparent."
He adds: ''The Agnew resignation was necessary although a
very serious blow, because, while some thought that his stepping
aside would take some of the pressure oflF the effort to get the
President, all it did was open the way to put pressure on the
President to resign as well. This is something we have to realize;
that any accommodation of opponents in this kind of a fight
does not satisfy—it only brings on demands for more."
My resignation left me literally destitute. I lost not only my
salary but my right to a substantial government pension, and
soon thereafter, my means of earning a living as a lawyer. Frank
Jamieson, a good friend, offered me a consultancy in his privately
owned aerospace firm. When my enemies discovered I was on a
retainer there, some stockholders and directors of the Jamieson
firm's associated corporation put pressure on him to discharge
me. I resigned to save him from embarrassment. This sort of
extra punishment was so unfair, it made me furious. They had
knocked me down: now they wanted to kick me.
Soon after I satisfied the ten-thousand-dollar maximum fine
imposed on me, the I.R.S. contacted me and demanded a hun-
dred and fifty thousand dollars in back taxes, interest, and
penalties. I said I had no money. They told my lawyer I should
get it out of my "shoe box"— which, of course, did not exist.
The I.R.S. agents said, "If you don't pay this, we will go to
court and lift your passport." As I was even then arranging to
go overseas to try to develop some international business, I had
to have that passport. I was desperate.
So I called Frank Sinatra's lawyer, Mickey Rudin, of Reverly
Hills, California, to see if he had any ideas that might let me
keep my passport and gain some time. He said he would think
about it.
204 GO QUIETLY or else

The next day, Mickey called me and said, "Frank thinks you
should pay."
"Well, dammit, Mickey," I said, "I don't have the money; I
can't pay."
"What is your bank and account number?" Mickey asked.
"Frank has directed me to put two hundred thousand dollars in
your account."
I couldn't believe my good fortune, or that anyone could be
so considerate and generous.
"That's wonderful," I exclaimed. "But where is the promissory
note?"
Mickey laughed and said, "Don't insult the man. I wouldn't
even dare ask him about that. He knows you will pay him back
when you can. That's all he needs."
The day after I resigned, Frank had sent me thirty thousand
dollars to pay my ten-thousand-dollar fine and my family ex-
penses until I could find some way to make a living. As time
went by and my business improved through my numerous trips
overseas, I earned an adequate income and paid back the last
of the Sinatra loans in 1978.
Meanwhile, the prosecutors continued to besmirch my name.
U.S. Attorney George Beall told the press he had considered
charging me with "obstruction of justice" because of my com-
plaints in early 1973 to Richard Kleindienst, then the Attorney
General, that the Maryland investigation might have been politi-
cally motivated. Beall admitted that his staff disagreed over
whether or not these calls were an attempt to obstruct justice,
and even the implacable Barnet Skolnik thought the matter was
too weak to pursue. Kleindienst himself said (in the Washington
Star-News, Nov. 1, 1973) he never got the impression I was trying
to get him to stop any investigation of myself. Of course, I was
not doing any such thing, and the record proves that never—
not even when Wolff and Matz were making veiled threats to
drag me into their mess— did I use my influence as Vice-President
to obstruct the inquiry.
Much has been written about my close relationship with Frank
Sinatra. It is not a friendship of very long standing, but from the
beginning it was one of those rare meshings of two personalities
that create extremely close bonds.
I met Francis during the 1970 Thanksgiving holiday. Judy and
 A JOYOUS PARTY IN THE EAST ROOM 205

I were staying at a friend's house at Palm Springs. I had just

finished playing golf at Canyon Country Club. As I walked off
the eighteenth green, Peter Malatesta, one of my staff members,
was standing there talking to Mr. Sinatra, and he introduced us.
We had a drink in the locker room. Frank said he was sorry he
had to leave Palm Springs that evening, but he invited Judy and
me to lunch with his family at his home in Rancho Mirage the
following day. It was there that we met Nancy, Sr., Nancy,
Jr., and her husband-to-be, Hugh Lambert, and Tina Sinatra.
We found his family warm and relaxing.
From this casual beginning came many other meetings. Soon
it became understood that whenever I was in Palm Springs, the
Sinatra house would be home base. We played golf together
often, and we spent hours just sitting and talking about our ex-
periences.recall
I vividly one night we were sitting in his study
talking. Suddenly I said, "What's that?" Everyone was silent and
then I laughed. "It's birds," I said. Indeed, it was the chirp of
early morning birds greeting the daybreak.
Having both come from Mediterranean stock and similar
humble beginnings, we had many attitudes in common. My in-
terest in the popular music of the 1930's and 1940's left me with
a good recollection of his work during that period. We felt the
same way about this great country that had given us the op-
portunity tobecome successful; we were both angry about the
cynicism of much of the press; we hated the way the left-
wingers were constantly running down the competitive, free-
enterprise society that was the real strength of America. In short,
we had a lot in common that brought us together.
During the early years of our friendship, certain political allies
of mine did everything possible to persuade me that Sinatra was
a political liability because of the controversy always surround-
ing him. They would refer to how the Kennedy family dropped
Frank because of hinted ties with the underworld. Some really
big people who would normally be in my camp, they said, would
shun me unless I put some distance between myself and Sinatra.
Of course, I had heard all this garbage that was being circulated
about Frank. I didn't believe a word of it. If there had been
any substance to it, the decades of effort to destroy him would
have borne fruit by then. Also, I knew from discussions with
other greats of the entertainment world who revered Sinatra
206 GO QUIETLY or else
that every entertainer, during those years, began his or her
career in nightclubs. Nightclubs were frequented by the under-
world big shots: it was impossible for a performer to avoid
meeting these people. It was odd, however, that no one pointed
out Bing Crosby, Bob Hope, Milton Berle, Joe E. Lewis, Red
Skelton, and many others had played the same places and rubbed
shoulders with the same people out of necessity. I think I know
why Frank is singled out for special attention. Two reasons— he
is outspoken and volatile, and he has an Italian name.
In any event, I refused to let politics dictate who my friends
were to be, so I rejected that advice. Then in the spring of 1972,
something happened that caused me to stand up publicly for
Frank.
The House of Representatives Select Committee on Crime had
been interrogating a man named Joseph Barbosa, a hardened
criminal in the process of "trading up" who had admitted to the
murders of twenty-seven people. Barbosa testified that Sinatra
had held interests in two hotels as a front for Raymond Patriarca,
alleged crime-syndicate head of New England. Patriarca was
then in jail on a murder-conspiracy conviction.
The Barbosa statement created quite a sensation in Wash-
ington, and several members of the House declared that Sinatra
should be brought in to testify. The media were having their
usual picnic with the story, with such headlines as "Witness
Links Sinatra To Reputed Mafia Figure."
Frank was out of the country at the time. When he heard the
reports, he was furious. He returned immediately to confront the
committee in a dramatic appearance that quickly put the matter
to rest, much to the embarrassment of those who had promoted
the credibility of the Barbosa story.
Before Frank testified, the press had been after me to com-
ment on the Barbosa accusations. I strongly defended Frank in
spite of the recommendations of most of my poHtical advisers to
say nothing. That incident solidified our friendship in the same
way his outspoken support of me during my travail has ce-
mented it.
My friend J. Walter Jones suffered a severe penalty for his
loyalty to me. As I mentioned previously, he had refused to co-
operate with the Baltimore prosecutors by confirming their
charges that I had taken illegal money. He said, "I cannot tell a
 A JOYOUS PARTY IN THE EAST ROOM 207

lie to save myself." So this hardworking ex-marine, who had

come out of the service to build a highly successful real estate
and banking career, was hounded by the "Gang of Four*' until
they finally landed him on a campaign contribution violation
that did not involve me at all. By using the legal bribery of
"trading-up," they produced testimony that Jones had solicited
an illegal ten-thousand-dollar corporate contribution from The
Singer Company for the 1972 Nixon-Agnew campaign. There
was no claim that the money was used for anything other than
the campaign : it was illegal because it was a corporate contribu-
tion.
This is how Jones himself has described the prosecutors' mis-
treatment ofhim: "They had literally rooms full of records of
every company I was ever involved with. After studying them
for six months, the F.B.I. agents decided they had nothing on
me and left. But as long as I was alive and saying the prosecu-
tors' charges were not so, I was a threat to them. As chairman
of the Nixon-Agnew fund-raising committee for the Eastern re-
gion, Iwas technically at fault for accepting the ten-thousand-
dollar contribution from The Singer Company."
Yet why is it that hundreds of similar violations have either
been overlooked, or punished with simple fines and probation?
The answer is that in Jones's case, they couldn't get him on the
"bag man" charges, so they decided to get him on a technicality.
Jones has said: "I was innocent of the nine felony counts
which the prosecutors brought against me. Skolnik said that if
I won the first case, they would try me on all the other counts. I
realized that I was in terrible jeopardy and that I would be
harassed for years, so I agreed to plead guilty to the minor
charge, expecting that I would draw only probation. Instead, the
judge sentenced me to two years and suspended all but ninety
days. I went away to the Harford County Detention Center
where I served with murderers, rapists, and other kinds of
criminals."
Contrast this mistreatment of Jones with the prosecutors'
recommendation that there be no jail terms for Hammerman and
Green, whose testimony had been so useful to the Baltimore
"Gang of Four" in sealing my doom.
District Attorney George Beall told the court that his "extra-
ordinary depth of feeling" had almost led him to bring no charges
208 GO QUIETLY or else
at all against these two witnesses who were so vital to his case.
(BealFs "depth of feeling" for Green might have been linked to
the fact that his brother was an employee of Green's company
and that Green had been a racetrack crony of his father's. )
As part of their negotiated deal, Hammerman and Green each
pleaded guilty to one count of interfering with the administra-
tion of the tax laws. All other potential charges against them
were dropped. Technically, they faced maximum penalties of
three years in prison and five-thousand-dollar fines. But they were
smiling on their way to the courtroom because they had their
deal with the prosecutors, who would recommend that they be
spared any prison sentence.
Skolnik had led Hammerman and Green to believe their guilty
pleas would not be followed by jail terms. After a pre-sentence
conference with the federal judges in the case on October 11,
1974, Skolnik told Hammerman's lawyer, Sidney Sachs, that the
judges appeared ready to receive such a recommendation from
the prosecutors. Skolnik said the court had "given the signal,"
and the two defendants relied upon his assurance that everything
was fixed.
However, the three-judge court at Baltimore on November 25,
1974, gave them a stunning surprise— prison terms of eighteen
months for Hammerman and a year for Green, and a five- thou-
sand-dollar fine apiece. The judges said "the fact that Agnew
did not receive a prison sentence is not a sufficient reason" for
letting Hammerman and Green get off with merely a fine.
Green served four months of his term and then was paroled.
Hammerman appealed.
The Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals at Richmond, Virginia,
October 30, 1975, overturned Hammerman's prison term on the
grounds the prosecutors had illegally given him assurances,
which he considered a guarantee, that he would never go to
prison. The appeals court, referring to Skolnik, said an assistant
prosecutor had "most emphatically" assured Hammerman, the
judges had given the "signal" they would impose no prison
term; and on the basis of that false assurance, Hammerman had
pleaded guilty to the one tax charge. The government did not
deny that point.
Ruling that these comments had "misled" Hammerman, the
 A JOYOUS PARTY IN THE EAST ROOM 209

appeals court judges said, "We view the prosecutor's prediction

as likely to inculcate belief and reliance and therefore as an
essential element of the plea bargain. That the prosecutor lacked
power to implement the prediction made it an 'unlawful' promise."
The appeals court sent Hammerman's case back for a new
trial. But the prosecutors were so determined to let him off that
they never brought him back to trial. The Justice Department
formally abandoned the charge on April 22, 1977, a year and a
half after the appeals court decree. A department memorandum
states that the U.S. Attorney's oflBce in Baltimore desired to
dismiss the charge for two reasons. "The first is that the lenient
treatment accorded to former Vice-President Spiro Agnew should
in effect constitute a 'ceiling' with regard to the disposition of
Mr. Hammerman's case, because of the fact that Hammerman's
truthful cooperation with law enforcement officials was essential
to achieving the primary result in the Agnew prosecution. Second,
there is now no assurance whatever that Hammerman would
choose again to enter a plea of guilty, and, if he did not, any
resulting trial of the matter would present many legal problems
which it would be in the interest of justice to avoid. The Assistant
U.S. Attorneys most familiar with the case are of the opinion that
the government is unlikely to prevail if the matter were to be
tried.*'
Liebman and Skolnik explained to the department that they
had several "problems" in any possible retrial: "The problem of
pretrial delay, the fact that the case is now quite stale, and
finally, but by no means least important, the fact that there are
serious witness problems. There are no government witnesses
who would be willing to testify voluntarily. According to Mr.
Liebman, the principal witnesses would be Spiro Agnew and
Jerome Wolff. Mr. Liebman advises that both of these individuals
are likely to insist on grants of immunity prior to testifying.* Ob-
viously, immunizng Mr. Agnew creates problems both of sub-
stance and appearance. Mr. Liebman advises further that other
witnesses have expressed extreme reluctance to testify, and he en-
* This reason has no substance because, in accepting my nolo contendere
plea to the single tax count, Judge Hoffman extinguished all previous rights
of the federal government to proceed against me. Therefore, I would need
no grant of immunity.
210 GO QUIETLY or else
visions that ultimately their testimony will not be terribly bene-
ficial to the government's case. Mr. Skolnik points out that if the
decision is made to go ahead with the retrial, there will be a bar-
rage of motions from Mr. Hammerman's counsel, Sidney Sachs,
Esquire . . . Mr. Skolnik believes that the government is not
likely to prevail at the motion stage, and believes that the nega-
tive public appearance which would be created by any proposed
retrial outweighs whatever possible good could come from Ham-
merman's conviction . . ."
So the case against Hammerman was dropped. When the ap-
pellate court revealed Skolnik's illegal inducements to him to
plead guilty, the prosecutors were so embarrassed that they just
sat on the case and never brought him back to trial. Therefore,
I contend the evidence is clear that his testimony against me
was bought with the coin of the highest price, the assurance of
his freedom.
The prosecutors' fanatical zeal to indict prominent Maryland
politicians, even by using tainted evidence, injured another vic-
tim: former Congressman Edward A. Garmatz. This highly
respected Baltimore Democrat was indicted in August 1977, on
charges of having taken a fifteen-thousand-dollar bribe from a
shipping company executive to sponsor a bill favorable to that
firm. But the charges were dismissed in January 1978, at the
Justice Department's request, because Garmatz's lawyer, Arnold
Weiner, proved that important evidence had been faked.
Russell T. Baker, Jr., in moving for the dismissal, admitted that
the government's chief witness, Edward Heine, president of the
United States Line, "created false documentation to corroborate
certain parts of his testimony and had tendered it to the govern-
ment as genuine."
The Washington Star, editorially deploring the "horrendous'*
injustice inflicted upon Garmatz, said he had suffered "six months
of appalling pressure and public indignity, not to mention being
ordered to trial in the federal building named in his honor; and
an indictment will remain, unfortunately, tantamount to guilt in
credulous minds."
The Star, on January 11, 1978, commended Weiner's charge
that the prosecutors repeatedly played the game of "trading-up,"
offering immunity to some figures under investigation in ex-
change for their testimony against officials higher up; and as an
 A JOYOUS PARTY IN THE EAST ROOM 211

example, the paper specifically mentioned "the case of Spiro T.

Agnew."
I am still not free of the aftershocks of the case. Several law-
suits were filed against me in the years that have ensued since I
resigned. Although these legal actions are frivolous, they have
been well funded by my enemies and have cost me thousands
of dollars in legal fees and deposition costs, as well as my time
and peace of mind.
The most frivolous but the most costly of these vendetta law
actions was filed out of pure malice by a Miami lawyer who is
also a member of the New York Bar, one Sam Polur. That case,
filed in the federal court in Baltimore by Polur himself, sought
to put me in jail for alleged violations of probation including
such wild charges as conspiring with OPEC to fix oil prices,
giving National Security Council secrets to the Arab countries,
and accepting a jeweled dagger for my personal use from the
late King Faisal of Saudi Arabia. The suit also sought to recover
two million dollars in damages because Polur claimed the value
of some oil stocks he held had been adversely affected by my
alleged connivance with OPEC. (This despite the fact that the
stock had appreciated in value.)
This caricature of a law suit, of which a first-year law student
would be ashamed to admit authorship, was highly publicized
by the press to the great detriment of my business. Each time
Polur filed a paper, he distributed it to the press. He appealed
each inevitable reverse he experienced, and the matter dragged
on for nearly five years before being finally thrown out by the
Circuit Court of Appeals in Richmond on May 3, 1979.
An interesting sidelight of this case is that after having one of
his numerous motions rejected by the court, Polur in his appeal
accused the court reporter. Judge Rozel Thompson, and me of
conspiring to forbid him certain transcripts of the proceedings.
This should give the reader an idea of how irresponsible Mr.
Polur really was. Naturally, this juvenile accusation was thrown
out by the appellate court when the facts revealed that the
reason for Polur's delay in getting the transcripts was that the
court reporter had been ill.
As of this writing, there is still unresolved a civil class-action
lawsuit financed by the left-wing Stewart R. Mott & Associates
foundation and filed by a group of activist lawyers. They have
212 GO QUIETLY or else
boasted that they got the idea while discussing me at a cocktail
party. (It seems that cocktail parties cause me trouble even
though I do not attend them.)
The theory behind this action is that the alleged payments by
the engineers who accused me caused the cost of engineering to
the state to rise, and thereby made taxes rise. I expect this case,
which is primarily another harassing action by my political
enemies, will drag on amid expensive maneuvers and will wind
up costing me additional thousands in legal fees and costs, not
to mention the cost of precious time. As with the Polur case,
this one has been highly publicized, both here and overseas, to
the harm of my business.
When I tell my friends about these malevolent attempts to
further embarrass and harm me, they wonder why I do not file
suit against the perpetrators. In the Polur matter, which is now
concluded, I am giving that serious thought. However, I must
consider the impact of the publicity on my business. I have be-
come rather cynical about my chances of getting a square deal
from the major media. For example, when the Polur case was
in the accusation stage, it got headlines. When it was thrown
out of court, it got five lines on an inside page.
In the summer of 1978, Hammerman and I were ordered to
appear in a lawyer's office in Washington to give depositions in
the Mott Foundation-financed lawsuit. He came over to me and
said, "How are you, Ted?" and extended his hand. I spurned it
and said, "I can't shake hands with you. You've got to be kidding."
Jerry Wolff was there, too. I couldn't bring myself to speak to
him. At least, Wolff had the sensitivity to avoid contact with me
during the time we were thrown together.
My lawyer said, "Since you have an identity of interest in this
case, it would be better if you would be nice to Hammerman."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I just can't be nice to him. It's impossible.**
"Well," the lawyer said, "at least shake hands with him."
"No," I said, "I just can't."
J. Walter Jones and his wife have told me of a recent encounter
they had with Allen Green in an Annapolis restaurant. Jones said
he told Green, "You lied. You know you're a liar."
"I never said I gave Ted Agnew kickbacks," Green retorted,
according to Jones. "I gave campaign contrilnitions. If they want
 A JOYOUS PARTY IN THE EAST ROOM 213

to take that and turn it around into a bribe, I can't help it. After
all, I went to jail."
Besides these bitter encounters, I have had one that made me
laugh. When I was in Washington recently, having dinner with
a few of my old Secret Service agents, Jules Witcover came over
to my table. He is the author of two obviously biased anti-Agnew
books. Witcover knelt alongside me at the table and whispered,
"I'm sort of an Agnew student. I've written two books about
you. I know more about you than anybody else, and Fd like to
write the story from your viewpoint."
I burst out laughing every time I think of that incident. After
dipping his pen in poison to write two books about me, Witcover
had the nerve to ask me to help him write another!
 EPILOGUE

After my brother's funeral on Thursday, October 11, I was

sorely tempted to go home, close the door on the outside world,
and nurse my wounds. But I knew that hiding from reality would
be the worst thing I could do. The few days of isolation might
stretch into weeks, then months, and eventually destroy me as a
productive human being. Of such beginnings recluses are made.
Two days before, I had told Art Sohmer that my choice was to
make the best of the situation that existed. Refusing to face my
problems would not make them go away. I told Judy and each
of our four children that they must be prepared for some very
rough times during the coming months. Their innocence of being
even remotely connected with the accusations against me would
not protect them from the sneers, slights, and thoughtless actions
of many people who would be in frequent contact with them.
"Do not avoid the public," I urged them. "Whatever you were
going to do today had this not happened, do it. You have nothing
to be ashamed of and neither do I."
They followed my recommendation. I know only a little of
what they endured, but they never complained. They worried,
not about themselves, but about me. They set an example that
made it possible for me to survive the abrupt slide from top to
bottom. Never doubt the importance of the immediate family in
a crisis.
There were many things for me to do. I informed the Secret
Service that I intended to spend full days in the E.O.B. office
both Friday and Saturday. As they prepared the cars for de-
parture, the press made a concerted rush to get in position where
our driveway entered the street. They wanted to talk to me, but
I had decided to forego any further discussion of events leading
to my resignation. I planned to make an address to the American
215
 216 GO QUIETLY or else

people on the coming Monday, and I knew this would be tele-

vised live by at least two of the networks. That speech would not
answer the really important questions. There was a good reason.
I did not know the answers myself. It would take time for me to
find out exactly what had happened. I let it be known that I
wanted to write a lucid, complete account of what had transpired;
and, until that had been done, I would not discuss the months
preceding my resignation. What I wanted to avoid at all costs
was a haphazard, disjointed presentation of my story. I knew that
complete information would not be available until the collateral
prosecutions then in progress were ended. Of course, I was aware
that certain things had happened that I would never find out
about.
At the office, I called my staff together and explained why I
had been unable to keep them informed or warn them about the
imminence of my resignation. I explained I had to be certain
that no leaks originated in the Vice-President's office. I told them
that I had, as a condition of resignation, insisted on and been
assured they would all be transferred to other federal positions
at no loss of income. Less than a dozen were asked to form a small
transitional staff to work with me to transfer responsibilities to
the new Vice-President and to put my papers in order. I had al-
ready decided to give the historical material from my time in the
vice-presidency to the University of Maryland. This was done the
following year. No tax deduction was taken for the gift.
The staff reaction was one of sadness and sympathy, but there
is no doubt some felt betrayed. Nevertheless, despite intense
media probing in the days that followed, I don't know of any
who took a "cheap shot" at me. I was profoundly grateful for
their loyalty under fire.
After a brief period, I moved from the Vice-President's suite
in the Old Executive Office Building to a townhouse just around
the corner at 716 Jackson Place. The house was used occasionally
by former Presidents as a Washington base, and it would serve
as my transition office for the next six months.
Art Sohmer stayed on as the chief of the small transition staff.
Mike Dunn handled the complex and difficult job of liaison with
Vice-President Designate Ford's staff so that the transfer of re-
sponsibility was accomplished smoothly. Dunn also saw to the
placement of former members of my staff in suitable new posi-
 EPILOGUE 217

tions. Both of these important tasks were accomplished with

Dunn s usual efficiency.
Under the direction of Sohmer and Dr. Jean E. Spencer, my
research specialist and librarian, the tedious but necessary busi-
ness of transporting, sorting, evaluating, and packing the tens of
thousands of letters, position papers, memoranda, directives,
speeches, news conferences, and research papers was begun. It
took all of the six months allotted and, when we ran out of space,
the papers spilled over into the basement of the adjoining town-
house. The scope of the work far exceeded the capacity of my
small staff, but, thanks to some enthusiastic and loyal volunteers
who came back day after day, we were able to finish it.
During the transition period, I came to work every day at
8:30 A.M. and seldom left before 5 p.m. Usually I was there half
a day on Saturdays. There seemed to be a million details to attend
to and plenty of decisions to be made. I immersed myself in the
work. It kept me from being constantly depressed.
However, I could not take refuge in the nuts-and-bolts work
of the transition twenty-four hours a day, and the last quarter of
1973 dragged by like a bad dream in slow motion. It seemed
hardly a day passed without bad news. The media were having a
wonderful time airing the opinions of anyone they could find who
was interested in jumping on me. They wanted to be sure I was
not only down but out. It would never do for me to retain enough
credibility to bum them again for their excesses.
Powerful enemies were pressing for my disbarment from the
practice of law and doing everything they could to see that I
would not be employed by any large corporation. The I.R.S. was
claiming back taxes, penalties, and interest based on the uncor-
roborated testimony of my accusers. The state of Maryland was
making concurrent tax claims. Prosecutors in some of the Mary-
land counties and the city of Baltimore were being urged to in-
dict and try me in the state courts.
Despite a clear statement by the Department of Justice that
the forty-page statement filed in court contained the entire case
against me, rumors were being circulated and reported that there
were other, much worse transgressions that had been suppressed.
The prosecutors* records, now available, prove this was just
malicious hogwash, but it didn't help matters any at the time.
The disbarment preliminaries were moving ahead rapidly, so I
218 GO QUIETLY or else
retained counsel to represent me. There was no money left in the
defense fund, and little did I then realize that it would take me
four years to pay the legal fees connected with the disbarment
case. My lawyers were excellent. They did not overcharge. It was
just that I did not have the money to pay them right away.
I knew I was facing a certain suspension due to the nolo con-
tendere plea on the single tax count, but I wanted to avoid
permanent disbarment if at all possible. Other than the last
twelve years, which I had spent in full-time political office, the law
had been my livelihood. But more than that, I enjoyed the prac-
tice of law, and I felt a deep respect for the profession. I had
earned my law degree the hard way— in night school while hold-
ing down a full-time day job. Interrupted by nearly five years'
active duty during World War II, it had taken me seven years to
earn the right to practice law. I decided I would not give up that
privilege without a fight.
Toward the end of the year, the State Bar Association brought
me before a special panel of judges in Annapolis. Precedent fa-
vored a suspension, but my enemies brought great pressure to
bear. Although the only charge before the panel was the U.S.
District Court's finding of guilt on a single tax count, the opinion
of the panel and the appellate opinion that followed it left little
doubt that the famous forty pages of allegations had had their
effect. Early in 1974 I was disbarred and found myself without
any visible means of income.
Between the time the panel heard the matter and released its
decision, George Beall committed a shocking indiscretion. Many
were surprised that it did not bring him censure from the Mary-
land Court of Appeals, which still had jurisdiction of the case.
Beall told a reporter that the public could be disappointed if I
were not disbarred. The Baltimore Sun of January 3, 1974, car-
ried the headlines: "PubHc held to want Agnew disbarment" and
"Beall predicts public dismay." Mr. Beall was quoted as saying,
"The public expects disbarment and if disbarment is not forth-
coming, Ithink the public could be justifiably disappointed."
Beall in the same article admitted, "I know of lawyers who have
been suspended in similar cases," yet he publicly called for my
disbarment regardless of the fact that no decision had been
reached and the case was being held stih curia by the judges at
the time. Even a first-year law student should have known that
 EPILOGUE 219

it is highly improper for lawyers to comment on any case that

the court is in the process of deciding.
Less than a year later, George BealFs appetite for self-aggran-
dizement again fuzzed his ethical perception. Shortly after Presi-
dent Nixon resigned in August 1974, Beall was lionized at an
American Bar Association convention in Honolulu for his role in
bringing about my downfall. He made a speech deploring the
Watergate scandals and the Agnew case. Excerpts were reprinted
in The Washington Post as shining examples of a bright young
prosecutor's prose.
Dr. Inis L. Claude, Jr., a University of Virginia professor of
government, noted a striking similarity between large parts of the
speech and an article which former Wall Street Journal editor
Vermont C. Royster had earlier published in the American
Scholar magazine .
"It would be sad, indeed," Dr. Claude said in a letter to the
Post, "if an article billed as an 'Essay on Ethics' should prove to
be a piece of stolen literary property."
Indeed, subsequent examination proved that twelve whole
paragraphs of Beall's speech had been lifted, word for word, from
Royster's article with no attribution whatever. Royster angrily
demanded an explanation.
Beall admitted having copied the article without attribution,
but said, "I don't feel I've done anything wrong." He added, "I'm
troubled by the conclusion that's been automatically drawn that
there is plagiarism."
After a wave of criticism in the press, the pious prosecutor
telephoned Royster and apologized, saying: "There was a failure
of judgment and an error of scholarship on my part."
Thanks to the Sinatra loan, my lawyers were able to settle my
disputed tax liabilities for the years 1966-1972, both federal and
state, for a little over $160,000. I did not owe the money, but it
would have been useless to fight. The press had already convicted
me of the allegations in the famous forty-page statement, and I
could not stand the new harassment that would result from a
highly publicized trial. I needed one thing, urgently— a way to
make a living.
Late in 1973, I had hit on the idea of writing a novel. I knew I
was not ready to write the real story of my resignation for the
220 GO QUIETLY or else

reasons stated earlier, even though I had been oflFered a substan-

tial advance to do a mea culpa and condemn the "system that
made me go bad/'
Obviously, I was not an experienced novelist, but I had two
assets: first, I Hked to write and did so with reasonable pro-
ficiency; and second, I knew the vice-presidency from the inside.
I decided to do a novel about a hypothetical Vice-President who
was destroyed by his own ambition. I began the task in early
1974, and it proved to be a formidable one. Since a novel is a
creative work, and the author brings nothing to it but his imagi-
nation and words, I was determined to do the book without help.
It was an arduous job, and I gained a respect for novelists that
will be with me forever. The Canfield Decision was finally finished
and published in 1976. My enemies attacked the book in two
inconsistent ways. Some said it was the worst example of prose
ever seen. Others said it was too well written for me to have
authored it. I challenged the latter group, but they refused the
confrontation. The book became a best seller.
The year following my departure from office produced a stag-
gering array of new difficulties for my family and me. Judy's
mother, Mrs. R. Elinor Judefind, had been living with us since
she became too ill to maintain her own home. Early one morning,
just about a month after the death of my brother, she experienced
a massive cerebral hemorrhage. She died the following day with-
out regaining consciousness.
We had moved from the Sheraton Park apartment into a new
home in the Maryland suburb of Kenwood in June 1973. The
Secret Service occupied about 30 percent of the house for the
command post of the vice-presidential detail. With their services
soon to be curtailed and my mother-in-law no longer with us, we
didn't need such a big place. Moreover, we couldn't possibly
afford it, heavily mortgaged as it was.
I decided that when the transition office was closed, I would
open a small office at Crofton, Maryland. We wanted to get away
from the constant scrutiny of the Washington media, so we foiuid
a home we liked in Arnold, Maryland— about twenty minutes by
car from Crofton.
We were getting ready to move in the spring of 1974 when fate
dealt another blow. Judy became ill and had to enter St. Joseph's
Hospital in Baltimore County for an operation. Somehow, with
 EPILOGUE 221

the help of friends, we were able to make the move. We were

really touched that several members of the Secret Service detail
gave up their day off, hired a small truck, and helped with the
miscellaneous items that the van couldn't handle.
The Crofton ofBce was opened with the help of my secretary,
Mary Ellen Warner, who turned down a much higher paying
federal job to help me make a new beginning. Another former
member of the transition staff, Stephanie Barry, helped out part-
time and was invaluable in assisting with the preparation of the
transcript of The Canfield Decision. Stephanie later became my
secretary when Mary Ellen took another job. About this time
Walter Warner, a retired Air Force officer, joined me as an officer
of Pathlite, Inc., my small company. All three of these people
deserve a great deal of credit for their steadfast loyalty under
very difficult circumstances.
Through some old friends in the Washington diplomatic com-
munity, Ihad been quietly investigating the possibility of busi-
ness ventures overseas. I felt I could be valuable as a consultant
to companies interested in developing foreign markets. My
travels had gained me many excellent contacts in the Middle East
and Asia, and some of these people had shown an interest in help-
ing me. I began to travel and to experience some moderate success.
While I was in the Middle East in May 1974, I received a
frightening phone call in the middle of the night. Judy had been
taken to the hospital suddenly. The operation she had undergone
three weeks before had caused blood clots that had broken loose
and lodged in her lung and liver. Had not the clots been small,
these embolisms could have been fatal. I grabbed the first avail-
able plane and flew home immediately. My wife was hospitalized
for fifteen days and did not fully recover her strength until the
end of the year.
My business has expanded geographically, and I now find my-
self travehng frequently to Europe, the Middle East, Asia, and
South America. Sometimes I am able to take Judy along on a
trip, but usually economics and travel conditions force me to go
alone. It is a lonely business, and I hope to reduce the need to
move about so much in the future.
The passage of time has diminished, but not eliminated, the
efforts of my adversaries to cause me trouble. In 1976, Mr. Polur
brought his suit to have me put behind bars and obliterate all
222 GO QUIETLY or else
my assets. As I said before, he was unsuccessful, but it did cost
me valuable time and legal fees. At the time of this writing, the
Stewart E. Mott Foundation suit is still open in the Anne Arundel
County, Maryland, Circuit Court. It continues to be a source of
irritation, but I intend to fight it through to the bitter end.
Since the disaster period, 1973-1976, things have become some-
what better for the Agnews. My business has done quite well, but
I hasten to debunk the often promulgated assertion that I am a
millionaire. Numerous speculations, mostly inaccurate, about
what I am doing have appeared in the media. I have not bothered
to correct them, nor will I here. One thing I have learned is that
a sure way to destroy your business is to discuss it with curious
reporters.
According to published reports, most of the people who framed
me are doing very well indeed. In September 1978, Bud Hammer-
man reentered the mortgage banking and land development field.
He will represent, say the news accounts, such prestigious lenders
as the New York Bank for Savings, National Life Insurance Com-
pany of Vermont, Home Beneficial Life Insurance Company and
the Life and Casualty Company of Tennessee.
The Maryland Board of Registration for Professional En-
gineers, et al, after hearings, suspended the licenses of Lester
Matz and Jerome Wolff. However, a Baltimore County Circuit
Court judge, Marvin J. Land, reversed the suspensions on a legal
technicality. It seemed the Board failed to set hearings on the
charges within the six-month period required by law. Land's
ruling was not appealable to the Maryland Court of Appeals, so
neither Matz nor Wolff lost his right to practice engineering,
despite their admissions of far-reaching criminal misconduct. Yet
the public impression persists that I, who must live with a crimi-
nal record and suffer the permanent loss of my right to practice
my profession, got off easy.
And I must live with another, more subtle punishment. I can-
not walk through a hotel lobby or down a street and simply be
one of the crowd. Although I have none of the benefits of pu])lic
life— no pension, no former-statesman status, no diplomatic pass-
port to ease my comings and goings in my international business
affairs— I have retained a major impediment of public life. I have
no privacy because I am recognized all over the world. When
people stop and stare at you, you know some are thinking: "There
 EPILOGUE 223

goes Agnew, the guy who was kicked out of the vice-presidency."
I do not want to leave the impression that I have been abused
or vilified by the general public. Quite to the contrary, hundreds
of people have gone out of their way to reaflBrm their confidence
in me and say an encouraging word. But I am not so naive that
I don't recognize that there are thousands of others who believe
everything bad that has been said against me. It's just something
I have to live with— part of the continuing punishment for crimes
never committed.

Our first visits to the Palm Springs, California, area in the late
1960's had convinced Judy and me that it was the place to
which we'd hke to retire. In 1976, we decided not to wait for
retirement. My work required no particular situs, so why not live
where we enjoyed it most? So we sold our home in Arnold, Mary-
land, and bought a place in Rancho Mirage, just a few miles from
Palm Springs. In October 1977, we became California residents.
We thoroughly enjoy our life here in the Coachella Valley
desert. Of course, we retain a great affection for our home state
of Maryland, and we look forward to sharing the summer months
with family and friends there. However, the above time alloca-
tions are not realistic because travel takes me away from both
places too frequently.
People ask me, "How is your life now?" That is the most fre-
quent question put to me, in one form or another, since the fateful
events of 1973. It is an easy question to avoid but not an easy
question to answer— particularly when one faces the unspoken
meaning of the question. What they want to know is how it feels
to be catapulted suddenly from a position of honor to one of dis-
honor—to shoot the rapids from fame to notoriety.
The first two years were very painful; the wound was raw and
easily inflamed by new irritations. Nights were the worst. There
is a vulnerability about waking in a dark room and rediscovering
despair.
I did my best to keep my feelings hidden and present a con-
trolled demeanor. I reminded myself that I still had the love of
a good wife, family, and loyal friends. Somehow I muddled
through those years.
As time went on, it became less acute— more like chronic pain.
I adjusted to it, learned to live with it. Things will never be the
224 GO QUIETLY or else
same, and I have accepted that. I can truthfully say I am happy
now, but there is a small black cloud that intrudes on my happi-
ness at unpredictable times.
Writing this book has been wonderful therapy for me. Con-
fronting the prosecutorial records and the contemporary reporting
of the media initially brought an emotional reaction that made me
physically ill. But continued exposure lessened my sensitivity.
Now I can look at the whole thing more objectively.
Yes, there is still a trace of bitterness, but no desire for revenge.
Hatred is a dead end street, and I want to continue on down
the road.
APPENDIX
 Selected letters, memoranda, and statements from the files of
the United States Attorney in Baltimore that became available
under the Freedom of Information Act. These samples represent
no more than a fraction of one percent of the complete Agnew file.

UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT

DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE

Memorandum
TO: Baltimore County DATE: AprU 13, 1973

FROM : Russell T. Baker, Jr.

Assistant U. S. Attorney

SUBJECT:

Less than one minute ago I talked with.

flHH|BHI| at Matz, Childs. 1 placed the call to him. I
aa^se^m^ffirmy name and title and informed that I
knew that he had "been served with a subpoena. I said to
him in almost exactly the following words :flHBI^H|
flHHHHHHB 1 want to advise you in a forma^^i^^
ffia^mrr^i^r lot of trouble. What I think you should do
is to get yourself a lawyer, if you have not already
retained a lawyer, a criminal lawyer, and have him get in
touch with me as soon as possible. There was no further
discussion. The telephone call took place at
approximately 3:20 p.m. on Friday, April 13, 1973.

While reading the draft of the Baker memo of May 18, 1973, on
the pages that follow, keep in mind the prosecutors maintained
they had never offered Matz and Childs immunity.
 F^

UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE

Memorandum
DATE: May 18, 1973
TO B«ltlaor« County
Dictated: 11:20 a. a.
■ on May 18, 1973

Russ«ll T. Bakar, Jr.

AaalscanC U. S. Attorney

SUBJECT: Convarsatlon with Joe Kaplan About a Possible Agreement With Mr.
Matz and Mr. Childs

On tha morning of Friday, May 18, 1973, I

had a telephone call fron Joe Kaplan during which we

discussed four subjects:

) the possibility of a deal

between the Government and Mr. Matz and Mr. Childs.

a.o^Tc.....o^j;^ ra^ c<i<vvitA^;LcU»-vv\T^. A,^ r^M Tj^s^ fourth subject

The fi~ir ni'rj — * ^•'- '"»" ,,^,.^^«a ■Ti"iM

:Sh mi nmi rhtiJ ■■bjuu.s have i

been covered in ^ separate mcnorandva.

After btfuAag discussad^the ttnt^^mmmmaika

Joe and I drifted
subjects
.Into a dlacuaaion of the possibility of a deal btcwecn

the Govamfflent and Matz and Childs.

.«&
ilJlj LlXL Hi lei jl s^hn lid Tni

r rirliii^rf.inwg''.
 FH

% -2-

aiainst ^Sqjs* dafendancs to which thi«

advlsftd Be that nelthar ha

X in a&7 way attempted to

s to be anything other

S<^Jses'vith Cfi« '

During l^ite discussion/ I (advised Joe that Se
vould definitely be indicted at least for

several violations of Title 26, and probably for

other criaes as well. Joe told me that he andrj^hwwia.

s had Imown for some time that tiemm would probably"

be indicted. Uiliij|,li BapigWWg.li i lilliuf, lu'Ijl
completely truthful and cooperative with the Covercaenc
had made the Judgment early in the investigation
tariaeeUaaka did not possess information in which
Government would be interested. I waj jm;jiliul

ereetag beiause weqr eeriy An chlj iuuLJLla^L.tUlf Lkr

cold Jue Llmt hls'clientSi euuifl luve imauniey
lUejf wiiig wllllmfLu Luuneiate. SB^iBdV3JK.
declined
j:J that
.... \.i^V
iavlcmtion. BuiAug uij Lelt^LUlil LUumfjailuu Blelf \\La.

aaplainsii
clients oaaMi William E.
MvagMi
Fenieff, the Adalnistrative Officer of Baltimore County
^ ivii:'^^^^^ ^ ~ ' ^^
 /?

-3-

sr*^ui
but . tM'^M* aoe offer^sucB tesciinony Co us because

\ f^^ ^ balievd chat wa wauld wat bo-pgepared Cu &!»<. —

hJi^
Uvt/^
', J(1j^ \ i^lrftady haJ aufflaient' e^iaeuue aftii<i>iitr L

Aada»9eBi- i.i^a rtian rr>Tri aa thaC hie alianta cawIJ &lve

Vlce-Fresldenc Agnev buC chac he

i^m. .^not otivrimttjAtiaouj

v« w«reo.latere9Ced
to ua because be d^iaa

la.yiaauxss^^
--Agnew.

.aaked Joe what he meanc^and he stated

^^^
that he had^goe balie-raJ that this office would-be
interest in laxima investigating the man vho is now
i^' r^wV-
^*^Jt/j9^ /*^^*J*^| the Vice-President of the United States. I eol<J Joe
that 'he iiuj aiuug Lliau <mi! LliaL he was Jaf iulLely--

■ ■ia[l mm I «v*i*tia»|that this of flee vas interested

»d«^ investigating and ^ prosecuting •OT^^crimes^qtwc

^witiiin the applicablexl^eral statutes of

limitations.^ ilnce Agnev;^ieft BalClaore County^ in

966, all apf**w»W?» federal statutefof linitatlons ^>

/./Mim'tfrp>4 hy h<iji T-^rh1n the nrnriil«rT perlml

sawatal uthLi' eeaaiioni during the eBW'»«»ea>iBH !■

that this office vas prepared co in-

 Ft

~*~ or «HyO»ffc«i/re--

vesclgatc and prosecute Agnew^ for any^ crimes W^ii^ *^^y

/(fire /%^ eoounl teed within the statutory period.
sew might very

* with the

Govemmeat with respect to testimony against Agnew.

repeated this office's willingness to pursue

any crimes committed within the statutory period,

that hini eHnnrf ha^ji Java li>i

Joe and I then had a long conversation about

Mr. Matz's and Mr. /-

Childs's reluctance to do or say

anything which would destroy their business, ^-iMtatJKm

which they have built up over^«ii«M^pfi«v«Bi^-«^ years.

I advised Jde that this office aijWfr

ifi ^f^tu m9*smr^6emmmttia^u\\t\ \tv\i i]\\ ■ i

'- — ' " — '-^ — ' U—UeJJ >t<«-*r complete and truthful

cooperation to the Govena^t^-^^I^ ii^y^J^^Z

Joe tbat^he should not ^delay

consulting with his clientsyi'

Joe>,«4g^tae that he would get back to me

iB th« near futxire. I advised him that unless and until

heard from hia we^ueve-proceed^^ towards i|r indict-

yeuuiUj-

I
 This memo indicates how eager Joseph H.H. Kaplan was to
dehver me to the U.S. Attorney in order to save his cHents, Matz
and Childs. Kaplan did not even tell Arnold Weiner he was talking
to the prosecutors privately.

UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT

DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE

Memorandum
TO: Baltimore County DATE: June 6, 1973

FROM : Russell T. Baker, Jr.

Assistant U. S. Attorney

SUBJECT: Joe Kaplan

At approximately 6:45 p.m. on Tuesday, June 5, 1973,

I received a telephone call at home from Joe Kaplan. He
advised me that during our conference that afternoon he
had been quite uncomfortable in responding to some of
my questions that involved or referred to previous
discussions between Joe and me. Joe told me that in
accordance with my instructions of several weeks ago he
had never disclosed to Weiner the fact that he and I had
been talking about the possibility of a deal. He told Weiner
of these discussions for the first time after oiu* meeting
yesterday. He did not want me to think that he was in
any way backing down. I assured him that we did not
think that he was going to back down although we had
been puzzled by his obvious discomforture.
In this conversation I reaffirmed with Joe our
understanding that we were to do nothing until we heard
from him. He indicated that he expected that he would be
back to us in a couple of days. He also told me that the
reason for the delay was to allow Arnold time that he
needed in order to work on WoICf to get him to cooperate.
 United States Department of Justice

UNITED STATES ATTORNEY

DISTRICT OF MARYLAND
405 UNITED STATES COURT HOUSE
FAYETTE AND CALVERT STREETS
BALTIMORE, MARYLAND 21202
June 8, 1973

Joseph. H. H. Kaplan, Esquire

1800 Mercantile Bank and
Trust Building
21 Hopkins Plaza
Baltimore, Maryland 21201
Re: Lester Matz and John C. Childs

Dear Mr. Kaplan:

At a meeting you had with me and other
representatives of this office on Tuesday, June 5, 1973, we
discussed the possibility that am agreement might he
negotiated under which your clients would furnish to the
Government certain information that they now possess.
You refused, however, to disclose at that timte any of the
details of this information other than the identity of one
of the individuals to whom the information relates. On
the hasis of this extremely limited disclosure, you have
asked me to indicate if this office would he prepared to
grant your clients total immunity in exchange for their
information.

I have concluded that I cannot in the proper exercise

of my responsibilities make any representations to you on
the basis of such limited disclosures. As you know, your
clients are presently among the subjects of an
investigation by this office and a federal grajid jury. This
investigation lias produced evidence of several serious
offenses wliich your clients may have committed, in
addition to those offenses about wliich they may now be
prepsired to disclose information. In such circumstances
this office must refuse as a matter of policjy to make
representations of potential Government concessions
before we have even received hypothetical potential
disclosures. Any representation made by this office that
was based upon disclosures as limited and general as
those made so far by you would, in our judgment and in
light of our experience, create an enormous potential for
mutual misunderstanding and subsequent dispute.

Therefore, this office is prepared to enter into

negotiations with you and your clients only under the
terms and conditions detailed in my letters to you of June
7, 1973. 1 fail to see how the detailed factual disclosures
required by those procedures will prejudice your clients
in any way, given the protections expressly provided for
in paragraph (2) of those letters. Generally, those
procedures have been used throughout this investigation
and are used routinely in this office. It seems to me
important and appropriate for this office not to deviate
from such well established procedures.

Sincerely yo\irs.

George Beall
United States Attorney
 UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT
DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE

Memorandum
TO : Grand Jury Investigation DATE : Jiily 1 7, 1 973
RSL:AC
Dictated: July 19, 1973

FROM : Ronald S. Liebman

SUBJECT: ALLAN GREEN

Tim Baker and I met today with. Brendan Siillivan, an

associate in Edward Bennett Williams Wasliington law
firm. Mr. Sullivan had advised Baker in a previous
telephone conversation that his office represents Allan
Green. At this meeting, Sullivan again advised us that his
office represents Allan and Max Green. He informed us
that the corporation of which the Greens' are principals
is represented by the Baltimore law firm of Weinberg and
Green.

Sullivan was advised that we had two matters to

discuss. First, he was advised that Allan and Max Green,
as well as the corporation, were involved in difficulties
with this office for the years 1968, 1969, and possibly
1970. He was also advised that the difficulties were
mostly, but not exclusively, criminal tax violations.
Second, Sullivan was advised that Allan Green is the
subject of an investigation into corrupt activities
participated in by him on both the State and Federal level
for the years 1969 through 1970.
 Sullivan was also informed that no final decisions as
to who would "be indicted and for what have "been made "by
this office. All of the subjects of the investigation, through
their attorneys, are "being advised about their status. We
are, Baker advised Sullivan, willing to explore whether or
not OUT relationship with people like Green will "be a
totally adversary one. It was made very clear to Sullivan
that we are not offering anything at all at this point in
time. If Green is interested in exploring whether or not
the relationship "between the Government and him will
not "be a totally adversary one, there are certain
procedural steps that
advised Sullivan whichsince
mustGreen
"be followed. Baker also
is not involved alone in
these matters we are negotiating with other people.
Green, Sullivan was informed, should realize that "because
of this he does not have a lot of time to agonize over what
decision he should make. Baker also advised Sullivan that
he would "be well advised to inform Green that we are not
just fishing with respect to information of corrupt
activities performed "by his client.
Sullivan informed us that it was always possible to
negotiate. He requested that we advise him what we are
looking for and what our guidelines are. He was advised
that we were looking for information concerning corrupt
activities by Green at the State level for the years 1967
and 1968. Sullivan requested us to advise him what
people Green allegedly conducted these corrupt activities.
Baker advised him that some of the people he participated
in these corrupt activities with were Governor Agnew,
Jerome "V^olf, and I. H. Hammerman.
Baker next advised Sullivan that the Government
does not and will not buy half a witness. Therefore, if any
relationship does develop between the Government and
Green, we would want to know about Green's relationship
with DaJe Anderson, Joe Alton, Hess, Rogers, Mandel,
George Lewis, Dave Fisher, and Joe Jacobs. "With respect
to Alton and Jacobs, Baker advised Sullivan that we were
interested in the years 1966 to the present. The name of
Bernie Warner in relation to Baltimore City corruption
was aJso given to Sullivan.
 Sullivan was advised "by Baker that we etre interested
in Green's personal taix difficulties.
Baker, upon Sullivan's request, advised him of the
guidelines which this office will follow with respect to
any negotiations which will be conducted. Specifically, he
was advised that the guidelines would he formalized in a
letter spelling out the terms and conditions under which
negotiations would "be conducted with this office. He was
advised that the letter must "be signed by both the client
and the attorney. Following the signing of the letter, the
attorney would make substantive disclosures to us.
Following that, the client himself would meet with us and
convey his information to us and make himself subject to
cross-exajnination. He would also provide any documents
or other corroborative materials, including the names of
corroborative witnesses to us. After these steps have been
followed. Baker advised Sullivan that the Government
would then be in a position to commit itself to an
agreemient, if any, with Green. Sullivan was also advised
that the letter states that the disclosures given to the
Government would not be used either directly or
indirectly against the client. Sullivan was also advised
that the Government would make no concessions, if any
were to be made at all, up front, before the Government
knew what we were buying.
Sullivan was advised that George Beall was not
present at this meeting because his brother works with
the Green company and it was Mr. Beall's feeling that, out
of an abundance of caution, he would not attend the
meeting so as to adversely affect either the investigation
or, to in any way embarrass either his brother or the
Green corporation.
The sensitive problem of publicity was discussed with
Sullivan. He was advised that we have had newspaper
reporters sniffing around our office. He was also advised
that we do not want publicity at this stage of the
investigation. Sullivan was very tactfully but firmly
advised that he should stay away from newspaper
reporters with respect to the information he had gained
diiring the course of this meeting.
 Sullivan asked us in terms that he described as
"informally" what we woiild do for his client if his client
would give us substantive information. He was advised by
Tim that immunity was possible, depending upon what
his client would deliver to the Government. Siillivan
asked who in this investigation would decide on whether
or not someone would receive immunity and he was told
that with respect to Green, the decision would be made by
Barney Skolnik, Tim Baker and myself. Bakier advised
Sullivan that it would be possible for his client to earn
transactional immunity.
Sullivan next asked if Max Green would fit within
the sajne sort of negotiation pattern described above
ajid mentioned by us with respect to Allan Green. He
advised that this was possible, depending upon the
corroborative natiire of Max Green's testimony, if any.
Baker advised Siillivan that because of the familial
relationship between Allan and Max Green, some sort of a
mutually acceptable deal could be struck. Sullivan next
inquired as to the possible negotiated status that the
corporation could be placed in and he was advised that
the range of possible relationships went from pleading to
a criminal offense all the way to being wrapped up in a
total deal.

Baker advised Sullivan that at an appropriate point

in negotiations, if any negotiation should ensue, Sullivan,
or whichever attorney handles this matter for Green,
would be told "how it looks".
With respect to the time table and the necessity for
quick action, Sullivan was advised that not everyone gets
immunity and that time is a factor re: who cooperates,
who comes in first and with what.

The meeting concluded by Sullivan advising us that

he would talk to his client and contact us after doing this.
 The following is an excerpt from an early draft of the Allen
Green statement. Most of the last paragraph was deleted from the
next draft of the statement.

At some point diiring 1966, Mr. Agnew first

mentioned to me tlie possibility that he might run for
Governor. He told me that he was worried about whether
he could raise the substantial amounts of money
necessary for a successful campaign because his personal
finajicial resoiirces were severely limited. I understood
from my conversations with him that the County
Executive's salaiy was small and that he had very little
money.
Shortly before Mr. Agnew's formal announcement of
his candidacy, he called me and asked me to have lunch
with him. As usual, we met at Thomsen's. There he told
me that he had decided to run for Governor if he coiild
raise enough money for the campaign. I recaU that he
believed that it would be necessary for him to raise
approximately $250,000. He asked me if I would be
willing to make a substantial campaign contribution. At
the end of this luncheon meeting I promised him that I
would assume the responsibility to raise between $8,000
and $10,000 for his campaign. I did so in part because I
geniiinely admired the man and believed that he would
make an excellent Governor. I also knew, however, that
he would be grateful for my support, and I anticipated
that he would express his gratitude by giving my
company state work if he were elected.
During the campaign I paid directly to Mr. Agnew
somewhere between $5,000 and $6,000 in cash as a part
of my commitment to him. Before I was able to fulfill my
total commitment, however I was approached by
representatives of the Democratic gubernatorial
candidate. During the Tawes administration in Annapolis,
I had been making illegal cash pa3niients in the amount
of approximately $10,000 a year to JoeH||H||in
connection with state contracts that my company was
receiving from the Maryland State Roads Commission. In
return, my comipany had received substantial state
"business. I was told "by representatives of the Democratic
candidate that if he were elected, he woiild reappoint the
man who had been the Chairman Director of the State
Roads Commission under the Tawes administration. They
demanded, however, a $50,000 cash "campaign
contribution" from me. I finally agreed to pay them
$10,000 in cash. I simply coiild not have afforded a larger
payment, but I made the $10,000 payment to protect
myself in case the Democratic candidate were to win the
election and thereafter control state work.
 UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT
DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE

Memorandum
TO: Baltimore Coiinty File DATE: August 8, 1973

FROM : Russell T. Baker, Jr.

Assistant U. S. Attorney

SUBJECT: Telephone Conversation With George Beall

on August 7, 1975

At approximately 11:30 a.m. on August 7, 1973, 1

received a telephone call from George Beall who was
calling from the Attorney General's office in Washington.
With him were Mr. Ruchelshaus and Mr. Peterson. They
had just completed a meeting with the Attorney General. I
was advised "by Beall that on Monday, August 6, 1973, the
Attorney General had met with the Vice-President and his
lawyers in the Vice-President's offices. There the Attorney
General had to some extent disclosed to the Vice-
President the nature of the allegations against him. This
meeting was held as a result of pressure from the White
House (apparently General Haig) that was designed to
force a confrontation which would result in the Vice-
President's resignation. When the meeting did not produce
the desired result, the White House suggested that more
detailed disclosures "be made to the Vice-President in the
hopes that he would become convinced that the case
against him was so strong that he should resign.
Apparently the meeting which Beall attended was called
to discuss whether or not Richardson shoiild comply with
these requests. According to Beall, Peterson had
complained about the White House's involvement in this
investigation and had suggested that the White House
was again damaging the Department of Justice. He did
not feel that, according to Beall, Richardson sh.o\ild meet
with the Vice-President again. Instead, he had suggested
that a letter "be prepared to the Vice-President advising
him in some detail of the allegations against him.
According to Beall, this letter would summarize the
allegations against the Vice-President with some
specificity including the period of time involved, the
companies involved, and the manner of payment. In part,
Peterson believed that a letter would create a formal
record of the contact and thus have an advantage over an
informal and unrecorded meeting. It would also,
according to Beall, put the "baJl in the Vice-President's
court and place him in such a position that he could
never claim that he was not given an opportunity to
respond to the charges. Finally, it would have the
advantage of keeping the Attorney General out of it as a
personal matter.

Secondly, George advised me in this telephone call

that the President had requested a full prosecution
memorandum on the case. The discussion at the meeting
had raised all of the obvious risks including leakage to
the press and to the Vice-President. However, George
reported that people at the meeting had felt that the
President was entitled to such a memorandum "because
without a full awareness of the facts developed "by the
investigation he coTild not exercise his responsibility to
determine how to handle the matter.
 UNITED STATES DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE
FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION

Baltimore, Maryland
August 15, 1973

RE: JEROME BENJAMIN WOLFF

LESTER MATZ
INFORMATION CONCERNING

In tlie pre-polygraph interview, WOLFF furnished the

following information:

Description:
NAME JEROME BENJAMIN WOLFF,
also known as Jerry
DATE OF BIRTH March 19, 1918 at Chicago,
Illinois
RESIDENCE Stevenson and Valley Road,
Stevenson, Maryland
SEX Male
RACE White
HEIGHT
WEIGHT 5'9 %"
170 pounds
MARITAL STATUS Married— wife ELLIE
STEPCHILDREN JEFFREY, 22 Vs years of age;
KAREN, age 24
EDUCATION Bachelor of Engineering,
Northwestern University, and
Doctor of Jurisprudence, Leola
University, Chicago. Member of
both Maryland and Illinois Bar

'THIS DOCUMENT CONTAINS NEITHER

RECOMMENDATIONS OR
CONCLUSIONS OF THE F.B.I. IT IS THE
PROPERTY OF THE F.B.I. AND IS
LOANED TO YOUR AGENCY; IT AND
ITS CONTENTS ARE NOT TO BE
DISTRIBUTED OUTSIDE YOUR

AGENCY"
 WOLFF has "been a resident of Maryland for about 25
years.
WOLFF first met SPIRO T. AGITEW in approximately
1958 or 1959 when AGISTEW was a member of the Board
of Appeals which heard such matters as zoning. During
this period WOLFF was Assistant Director of Public Works
handling mainly sanitation engineering assignments and
later was Chief Engineer in which capacity he testified
before the Appeals Board. In approximately 1962 when
AGNEW was elected County Executive in Baltimore
County, Md., which position is roughly equivalent to being
a Mayor, WOLFF was working as Chief Engineer for Public
Works, Baltimore County. Approximately six months after
AGISTEW went in office, WOLFF entered business as a
Consulting Engineer. His friendship with AGISTEW
continued. He said that he knew he would get coiinty
engineering consulting jobs but furnished no details. He
left his position with the county because of adverse
publicity in the press indicating that while he held the
county job, he was also doing consulting work for the
State of Maryland. Up until March 1, 1967, WOLFF
continued to be self-employed as a consulting engineer.
On March 1, 1967, at the behest of SPIRO T. AGISTEW,
he became Commissioner of the State Road Department
for the State of Maryland. WOLFF said that there had
never been an extremely close personal relationship
between he and AGKEW but they had been friends over
the period of time described above. He volunteered that to
date AGNEW had never asked him directly for any money.
During the period that WOLFF was in private business
himself, he gave pa3rments of approximately five percent
of the contracts for which he was hired as a consultant
and had "an awareness" that some of the kickbacks were
going to AGNEW.

In March 1967, while head of the State Road

Department in Maryland, which position he held until
February of 1969, the following situation existed. Shortly
after taking the position of State Road Commissioner, I. H.
"BUD" HAMMERMAJSr, approached WOLFF and told lUm
that an arrangement was to "be made involving him,
WOLFF, to work out "patronage" with consiiltants that
were doing "business with the State. HAMMERMAN said
he would handle the situation himself "because it was
"delicate", and they coiild not afford to have anyone else
involved. WOLFF knew there was an extremely close
relationship "between AGNEW and HAMMERMAJST. The
result was that consulting firms that were to be under
contract for consulting projects for the State would kick
"back five percent of their fee. HAMMERMAJST would make
the collection, one-third of the amount collected would go
to WOLFF, one-third to HAMMERMAN" and one-third to
AGIyTEW. However, this was in a very short period
changed so that AGNEW was to get 50 percent and 25
percent was to go to HAMMERMAN and 25 percent to
WOLFF. There were eight to 10 engineering firms
contributing or kicking "back in this manner. WOLFF
figured that he personally received in kickbacks,
approximately $35,000 to $40,000 and said that AGNEW
should have gotten about $75,000 during the period. He
said when he left the office of State Road Commissioner
that this type of situation stopped. He said LESTER MATZ
and ALAN GREEN, who are known to him, are people that
he knew that were paying kickbacks directly to AGNEW
and knew this because HAMMERMAN told him so. WOLFF
said that the reason consulting firmis were set up to kick
back in the above-described majiner was because they did
not have to submit a bid.

WOLFF advised that he had been the Staff Science

Advisor on the Staff of Vice President AGNEW from
February 1969 until May of 1970, when he left and
returned to again enter in private business. He said that
he is currently the president of Greiner EnvLronmLental
Systems, Inc., Consulting Engineers, One Village Square,
Baltimore, Md. 21210, phone 301-323-8100.

On 8/11/73, WOLFF was afforded polygraph examina-

tion which was directed towards ascertaining if he had
farmshed any false information in regards to alleged
corruption and kickbacks to date. Tliis was the direction
of the inquiry as requested by the U.S. Attorney in
Baltimore.

The relevant questions and their answers in the

Series were as follows:

3. Have you intentionally given the Government any

false information about the corruption investigation?
Answer — No.

5. Other than what you told me, have you personally

ever given AGNEW any money? Answer — No.
6. Have you ever done anjrthing you are ashamed of?
Answer — ^Yes.

7. Are you now deliberately trying to protect anyone

that you have not told us about? Answer — No.

9. Are you now withholding any information what-

soever about your part in this kickback set up? Answer —
No.

11. Did you deliberately lie to at least one of the

questions in this test? Answer — No.
There was an extremely strong emotional reaction to
Question 3, showing WOLFF was practicing deception. In
the overall verification in Question 11, there is again a
strong emotional response. There is also emotional
response to Question 9 indicating that WOLFF was
withholding information about the kickback set up.
USA BEALL and First Assistant RONALD LIEBMAN
were advised that WOLFF was not being truthful in his
claim that he has not intentionally given the Government
any false information about the corruption investigation
that they are heading. It was suggested that the same
series of questions
continue. When SA "be re-run returned
PEAECE and then toother tests where
the room
WOLFF was located, WOLFF was visibly upset. He said that
he knew he had not done welL He said he could "feel" the
reactions occur. At this point he volunteered that he had
not furnished all the details involving monies that he
received personally
Federal tax violation."because he feared prosecution for

WOLFF was told that the examination, which appar-

ently he and his attorney wanted to have, could continue
as quickly as he would allow it. It was pointed out to him
that the question could he revised to the effect that other
than money, have you deliberately furnished false infor-
mation about the corruption investigation, and
accordingly, if there were other matters that he had not
disclosed, he should do so voluntarily. At this point he
said there was some information involving LESTER
MATZ. At this point the USA, First Assistant, and WOLFF's
personal attorney, privately interviewed him further, and,
accordingly, SA PEAECE does not know what revelations
were made other than that of money and the indications
are there was other information regarding LESTER MATZ
that needed to be disclosed or that there had been false
informiation furnished regarding MATZ. WOLFF, during
the brief period that he was talking to SA PEARCE, was
visibly upset and in such an emotional state that it was
no longer possible to continue polygraph examination.

On 8/12/73, LESTER MATZ, accompanied by his

attorney, ARNOLD M. WEINER, appeared at the offices of
the Federal Bureau of Investigation in the presence of his
attorney. He signed form FD-328, Consent to Interview
with Polygraph. MATZ in pre-polygraph interview fur-
nished the following information and description:

Name: LESTER (NMN) MATZ

Sex: Male
Race: White
Residence: 2811 Marcie Drive, Baltimore, Md.
DOB: 1/30/24 at Baltimore, Md.
Height: 5' 10"
Weight: 190 poiinds
Education: Bachelor of Science — Civil Engi-
versity neering, 1949 — John Hopkins Uni-
Marital Status: Married— Wife— Shirley
Children: RICHABD EARL MATZ,
STEWART ALAlSr MATZ, HARRY J.
MATZ, JONATHAN MATZ
Military Service: 1943-1945, Combat Engineers,
rank — Corporal Serial Number 13
19 5475 (?)
Employment: Matz, Childs, and Associates, 1020
Cromwell Bridge Road, Baltimore,
since 1956 — Consulting Engineers

MATZ furnished the following background

information:

MATZ first met SPIRO T. AGNEW in around 1961 at

which time AGNEW was a member of an Appeals Board m
Baltimore area, which handled — among other things —
zoning appeals. As a consultant, periodically MATZ
testified before this Board. During the period he also knew
J. WALTER JONES as a social acquaintance. During the
period 1962-1966, MATZ never gave any money as a
direct kickback. He gave a $500 political contribution to
AGNEW when AGNEW was to run for position as Country
Executive. Payments were made between 1962 and 1966
to JONES and MATZ has no doubt that part of the money
given JONES during this period was in turn given in part
to AGNEW. He said at a Christmas outing in 1962,
AGNEW made a statement to the effect, "We've got to make
money right after the election." AGNEW in November
1962, was elected County Executive for the County of
Baltimore. During one meeting where he, JONES and
AGNEW were present, AGNEW said. You are not an
engineer, but "the engineer". It is assumed that the
implication being that AGNEW knew that MATZ would
work and make kickbacks to JONES and ultimately to
AGNEW.

During the period 1962 to 1966, MATZ said tliat lie

gave five percent of tiis consulting contracts to JOISTES. He
said that lie personally was involved in collecting other
monies which was delivered to JOISTES, and accordingly,
did not like the idea that he had to make kickbacks on his
fiirm's contracts. He said during the period 1967-68,
when AGNEW was Governor, he had to kick back five
percent when he was a consultant involving designs. He
gave back 2Vz percent for survey t^rpe of consultation and
Vq percent of the fee on other types of consultation. He
said on June 17, 1968, at 2:00 p.m., he met SPIRO AGNEW
in the office of the Governor in Baltimore, Md., and turned
over to him $20,000 cash which was the first occasion
that he gave AGNEW money directly. He said here that
AGNEW never asked for money. He said there was
absolutely no doubt that he and AGNEW knew it was
kickbacks for State contracts he had taken. He said as a
matter of fact all of the kickback money that he
personally paid was kickbacks on his fees where he was a
consultant. Further, that all of the contracts were
federally funded. He said he wanted to pay the $20,000
cash because he wanted to "get the credit myself". He said
that the next payment he recalled was in around
February 1969, when he personally went to the
temiporary office of the Vice President in the basement of
the White House and turned over to AGNEW what he
thought was $11,000, and told AGNEW that this
completes my obligation. He then said that his personal
notes indicate that the amount was $9,500, however, his
personal recollection of the amoimt was that it was
$11,000. He believed that the money consists of all $100
bills. He said AGNEW was appreciative of receiving the
money.

MATZ said that in the spring of 1971, he turned over

$2,500 to J. WALTER JONES in AGNEW's office. He went
on to say that his firm had two $50,000 contracts to
advise what was the best way to dispose of a Government
installation in Suitland, Md. The $2,500 was a kickback
on one $50,000 fee. He never paid the other kickback fee
on the remaining $50,000. The plan that he was
submitting was for GSA. He said he personally can't recall
if he gave JONES the money in AGISTEW's office or in an
alcove.

In May of 1972 he was asked to make campaign

contribution to the Presidential Campaign by one HARRY
DinSTDGRE during a luncheon at the Orchard Inn. He said
that at a Bar Mizvah for the son of I. H. "BUD"
HAMMERMAN", AGNEW was present and he told him that
he wanted to give him the money directly and AGISTEW's
answer was that MATZ could say, "Tell them you gave at
the office". He later went to the Executive Office Building
of AGNEW and gave him $1,500 in cash. He said he has
no proof but he believes the money went into AGNEW's
pocket and added that he has never seen any political
contribution list giving him credit for making this
contribution. He said that he may have given other
smaller amounts in between but he really didn't recall the
details. He said one reason he believed that he had given
money was because later AGNEW invited him to fly in the
Vice President's personal plane to Florida to witness the
blast-off of "Moon Shot II".
On 8/12/73, MATZ was asked the following relevant
questions in Series I:

3. To date, have you intentionally given the

Government any false information about kickbacks?
Answer — No.

4. Have you ever done anything that you are

ashamed of? Answer — ^Yes.

5. During June 1968, Did you personally give AGNEW

$20,000 cash in his office in Baltimore, Md.? Answer —
Yes.
 7. In February 1969, did you give AGNEW at least
$9,500 cash kickback in his office in the White House?
Answer — ^Yes.

9. Are you now dehberately withholding any

information whatsoever about yoiir part in a kickback
set-up? Answer — No.

Overall verification of questions:

11. Have you deliberately lied to at least one question

in this test? Answer — No.

This test was thereafter repeated in the exact same

sequence. In regards to Question 3, there is a very slight
reaction, not necessarily indicating deception. As a matter
of fact there is more reaction to Question 4, a control type
question — Have you ever done anything which you are
ashamed of? answered Yes. There is also a slight reaction
to Question 5 and Question 7, dealing with payments to
AGNEW. Again the reactions are not necessarily
deceptions and may be reactions to the magnitude of the
questions themselves. There is a moderate reaction to
Question 9 which indicates there probably are somte
details regarding kickbacks that MATZ has not disclosed
at the present time.

In Series II, the relevant questions with their

answers are as follows:

3. Other than what you have told the Government,

have you ever committed a crime for which you have not
been arrested? Answer — No.

5. Did you originate the idea to give cash kickbacks

directly to AGNEW? Answer— Yes.

6. Are you ashamed of your part in the kickback set-

up? Answer — ^Yes. (Control type question.)
 7. Do you know for siire of kickback money going to
AGNEW that you have not told us about? Answer — No.
9. Has AGITEW personally ever asked you to give liim
money? Answer — No.
During this question MATZ began to talk briefly and
was later to explain he just remembered something he
wanted to bring to the attention of the prosecuting
attorney.

11. Have you answered all of these questions

truthfully? Answer — ^Yes.
There are indications that MATZ is practicing
deception in regards to Question 5. There is something
specific bothering him that he has not disclosed which
deals with the origin of the idea to give cash kickbacks
directly to AGNEW. There is a like reaction to Question 7
indicating that MATZ has other information about
kickback money going to AGNEW that he has not at this
time told about. The overall verification — Question 1 1 —
shows a reaction indicating that MATZ knows that he has
not necessarily answered truthfully to all of the questions
in the test.

In the post-polygraph interview which was very brief,

MATZ advised SA PEABCE as follows:

In regards to Question 9, Series I, and Question 3,

Series I, he said that he had a thought come into his
mind. He stated he and his partner had aji envelope in
which cash was stored for purposes of having cash
available to pay kickbacks. He said that he took about
$2,000 on one occasion and that his partner didn't know
it and he had the intention to put it back but he never did.
He stated that in regards to Question 5 dealing with the
pajnnent of $20,000, he said the thought occurred to him
that the payment he believed was actually July 1968
rather than J-une 1968 as he had previously told SA
PEARCE. He was emphatic and stated lie actually made
the payments and would never change that statement.

The observations indicating possible deception to

Questions 5 and 7, Series II, were brought to the attention
of the Government attorneys who indicated they will
question MATZ further in regards to this.

Both MATZ and WOLFF coiild logically be interviewed

further utilizing polygraph technique to verify certain
points that they have furnished information about. Future
polygraph examinations will depend on additional
briefings by the polygraph operator.
 Witness Said to Pass
Lie Test
By Bill Richards
Washington Post Staff Writer

A key government witness in the special federal investigation of

Vice President Spiro T. Agnew passed an FBI lie detector test
concerning his charges that he had passed to Agnew money
extorted from Maryland engineering and architectural consultants,
according to Time magazine.
The FBI polygraph test, which usually is not considered
admissible evidence in court, showed that Agnew associate
Jerome Wolff was telling the truth when he told federal investiga-
tors he passed money extorted from consultants directly to Agnew
when he was Maryland governor, the magazine reports.
Time also said that U.S. Attorney George Beall had asked other
prospective witnesses in the Baltimore investigation to take similar
tests.
The magazine also reported that federal investigators had
obtained a diary from WolfiF showing payoflFs in 1967 and 1968 that
were purportedly turned over to Agnew.
Sources contacted by The Washington Post have confirmed the
existence of a businessman's datebook, which listed dates of
meetings with Agnew. The sources could not say, however,
whether the datebook contained any information other than a list
of meeting dates.
Wolff was Agnew's appointed chairman of the Maryland State
Roads Commission during that time and was responsible for
approving all consulting contracts for state roads.
Wolff subsequently became president of Greiner Environmen-
tal Systems, Inc., one of Maryland's largest consulting firms. The
same prosecution team probing the Agnew allegations last week
secured a 39-count grand jury indictment for bribery and extortion
against Dale Anderson, the county executive of Baltimore County.
One of the eight consulting firms hsted in the indictment as giving
kickbacks to Anderson is Greiner Environmental Systems, Inc.
Wolff could not be reached last night for comment, and both the
FBI and the U.S. attorney's ofBce refused to comment on the
magazine's report.
Wolff was asked to take the lie detector test, Time said, after a
visit to Baltimore 10 days ago by Assistant U.S. Attorney General
Henry E. Petersen. Petersen spent two days reviewing the case
against Agnew with Beall and questioned at least one of the three
government witnesses who have been granted limited immunity.
Attorney General Elliot L. Richardson has said he will make the
final decision on whether to seek an indictment from the federal
grand jury against Agnew.
It was learned yesterday that Paul Gaudreau, president of a
Baltimore architecture firm who has been granted immunity, has
not been asked to take a lie detector test.
It is not known whether Lester Matz, a Baltimore engineering
consultant who has also been given immunity, has been asked to
take a similar test.
During his visit to Baltimore, Petersen went over much of the
material that Beall and his investigators have gathered in their
nine-month investigation into corruption in Baltimore County.
Agnew served as Baltimore County executive from 1963 to 1967,
and as Maryland governor from 1967 to 1969.
Petersen also questioned Matz about his allegations that he
personally gave money to Agnew. Sources have said that Matz has
told investigators that he turned over $2,500 to Agnew.
Agnew has vehemently denied that he accepted kickbacks from
consultants for state or federal work, calling the allegations
"damned lies."
It is not known whether Petersen also spoke with Wolff and
Gaudreau, but both of the consultants have been cooperating fully
with the investigators.
Lie detector tests are not ordinarily allowed as courtroom
evidence during a trial unless both sides agree to their presenta-
tion. However, the same rules do not apply to a grand jury, where
no judge sits and the ground rules for evidence are considerably
looser.
If Richardson approves, the federal prosecutors are expected to
begin presenting their case against Agnew to the grand jury after
Labor Day.
 UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT

Memorandum
TO: Mr. Gebhardt DATE: August 27, 1973

FROM: KE.Long

SUBJECT: DALE AJSTDERSON, COUNTY EXECUTIVE

BALTIMORE COXUSTTY, MARYLAJSTD
SPIRO T. AGNEW, VICE PRESIDENT
INFORMATION CONCERNING

This is to set forth, an analysis of an 8/27/73 article

"by Bill Richards appearing in "The Washington Post"
captioned "Witness Said to Pass Lie Test." Much of the
data in the article has not heen available to the Bureau or
its personnel and in other instances statements in the
article appear to have "been made "by persons not faaniliar
with FBI terminology and policy.

On 8/11 and 12/73 SA J. Robert Pearce of our

Philadelphia office, at the request of the Attorney General,
Assistant Attorney General Petersen, and U. S. Attorney
Beall, Baltimore, appeared in Baltimore and asked
^■■■■andimillllPa series of questions using the
polygraph technique. The following observations are
made with respect to various comments appearing in the
attached article.

1. The article states a key Government witness in the

special Federal investigation of Vice President Splro T.
Agnew passed an FBI lie detector test.
 In tlie use of a polygraph it lias been long standing
FBI policy that our operators do not make an absolute
judgment that a person passed or failed to pass the
examination. Our operators must qualify their
conclusions to the effect that there was or was no
indication of deception on the part of the person afforded
the examination. In addition, within the Bureau we refer
to it as a polygraph and not a lie detector.

2. The article states that the FBI polygraph test

showed that Agnew associate Jerome Wolff was telling
the truth.

3. This SLTticle, based on a "Time" magazine story,

reports that U. S. Attorney Beall had asked other
prospective witnesses to tak:e similar tests.

The initial request to our Baltimore office on 8/9/73

by Beall was to have SA Pearce afford at least two and
possibly four persons * a polygraph examination on the
morning of 8/10/73. Other than this, the Bureau has no
knowledge of Beall's plans for affording other persons the
polygraph. As previously indicated, Pearce afforded only
two persons,^m[|||mP the examination on 8/11 and
12/73. *Identities not disclosed to F.B.I.

4. The article continues that "Time" reported that

Federal investigators had obtained a diary from Wolff
showing payoffs in 1967 and 1968 that were reportedly
turned over to Agnew and that sources contacted by "The
Washington Post" have confirmed the existence of a
businessman's date book, which listed dates of meetings
with Agnew.

The Biu»eau has no knowledge of the existence of a

diary or businessman's date book. It is noted, however,
that an article appearing in the "Evening Star" 8/20/73
carries a conmient that "The New York Daily News" said
yesterday that Beall reportedly has obtained a diaiy
listing political kickbacks. The News in a story citing
unnamed authoritative soiirces said the diary was kept "by
former Agnew Aide Jerome Wolff. A UPI release on
8/19/73 states that U. S. Attorney Beall has obtained a
diary kept "by Jerome Wolff, former Aide to Vice President
Agnew listing under-the-table kickbacks to Maryland
political figures by contractors and consultants while
Agnew was Governor of that State in 1967 and 1968, the
New York Daily News reported Sunday.
5. The article states that Wolff could not be reached
last night for comment and that both the FBI and the U.
S. Attorney's office refused to comment on the magazine's
report.

On the evening of 8/26/73 Inspector J. E. Herington,

Press Office, received a call from Bill Richards of "The
Washington Post" concerning the "Time" article.
Herington advised Richards he had not seen the 'Time"
article and had no comment.

6. The article states that Wolff was asked to take the

lie detector test aiter a visit to Baltimore ten days ago by
Assistant Attorney General Henry E. Petersen.

Other than this' we have no knowledge that Petersen

had spent two days with Beall reviewing the case against
Agnew and that he had questioned witnesses in this case.

7. The article states it was learned yesterday that

Paul Gaudreau, President of a Baltimore architecture firm
who had been granted immunity, had been asked to take
the lie detector test.

We have no knowledge concerning this comment.

8. The article states it was not known whether Lester
Matz, the Baltimore engineering consultant, who has been
given immunity, has been asked to take a similaj? test.

9. The article points out that during his visit to

Baltimore, Petersen went over much of the material that
Beall and his investigators have gathered in their nine
mionth investigation into corruption in Baltimore County.

The Biireau has absolutely no knowledge concerning

this comment.

10. According to the article Petersen also questioned

Matz about his allegations that he personally gave money
to Agnew.

We have no knowledge concerning this remark.

11. According to the article, sources have said that

Matz has told investigators that he turned over $2,500 to
Agnew.

We have no knowledge with reference to this

comment.

OBSERVATIONS

The FBI, other than affording the two polygraph

examinations noted herein, has conducted no
investigation in this matter and has not come into
possession of the details of the investigation which has
been conducted by the Internal Revenue Service in
conjunction with the U. S. Attorney's Office in Baltimore,
Maryland. It is quite conceivable that leaks reported by
the press may be attributed to the various witnesses and/
or their attorneys. The Bureau has afforded the results of
the polygraph examination the highest seciirity and has
been available to Bureau personnel only on a need to
know basis.
 UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT
DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE

Memorandum
TO: FUe DATE: August 17, 1973
PTW:mam
51-35-262

FROM: Pliilip T. Wliite

Staff Assistant
Criininal Division

SUBJECT: Agnew Investigation

On Wednesday August 15, 1973, Assistant Attorney

General Petersen and I traveled to Baltimore sind met
with United States Attorney George Beall and Asssistant
United States Attorneys Skolnik, Baker and Liebman and
were briefed on the latest developments in the Agnew
Investigation. Thereafter from approximately 10:30 to
3:30 p.m. we met in Mr. Beall's conference room with Mr.
Jerome Wolff and his attorneys Arnold Weiner and Mr.
Albert Figinski. Mr. Beall was present during most of the
conference as were Assistant United States Attorneys
Skolnik, Baker and Liebman, except for short periods of
time.

Mr. Petersen questioned Mr. Wolff at great length

concerning his association with Vice President Agnew
and his knowledge of alleged briberous or extortionate
payments of money to Mr. Agnew in connection with his
official duties as County Executive, Governor of Maryland
and Vice President. Mr. Wolff confirmed that while
serving under Governor Agnew as Chairman of the State
Roads Conunission he received substantial payments of
cash money from Mr. I. H. Hammerman in return for
awarding state engineering consultant contracts to
favored contractors who were making payments to him
through Hammerman. According to what Hammerman
told him a portion of these payments were also made to
Governor Agnew.
 Statement of Jerome B. Wolff
The following sworn statement is given by me
voluntarily and of my own free will. The purpose of this
statement is to set forth my knowledge of illegal activities
engaged in by Spiro T. Agnew. This statement has been
requested by the Office of the United States Attorney for
the District of Maryland. I was advised prior to giving any
information that, in the absence of voluntary disclosure, I
would be taken before a grand jury, and, after having been
given use inmiunity, I would be compelled to testier
truthfully about what I knew concerning corruption in
the State of Maryland.
My name is Jerome B. Wolff. My attorney is Arnold M.
Weiner. I am an engineer, with principal expertise in the
field of sanitary engineering. I am also an attorney. I am
the President of Greiner Environmental Systems, Inc., a
subsidiary corporation of the Greiner Environmental
Systems, Inc., a subsidiary corporation of the Greiner
Company, which is in turn owned by the Easco
Corporation.
In the late 1950*s, while I was Deputy Chief Engineer
and later Assistant Director of Public Works for BaJtimore
County, Mr. Agnew became a member of the Baltimore
County Board of Zoning Appeals. He and I became
acquainted as a result of my appearances as a witness
before the Board.
I left employment with the County approximately six
months after Mr. Agnew took office as County Executive,
having prepared a master plan for sewer ajid water
improvements for the County. I left because my dual
relationship with the State Roads Commission and the
County had been brought to the attention of the press in
June, 1962, although I was stoutly defended by the
^BBMBithe County Administration Officer, William E.
Fornoff, ^J^d^UHHIHiHlP-^^- ^^^^ ^^^ ^ became
good friends between 1963 and 1967 while I was in
business as a consulting engineer and became an
unofficial advisor to him. Mr. Agnew arranged for me to
get a substantial number of assignments from the County.
I greatly admired Mr. Agnew. I believed that lie was
sincerely attempting, with considerable success, to do a
good job as County Executive.
Friends in the consulting business asked me, while
Mr. Agnew was County Executive, how much I was
paying for the engineering work I was getting from
Baltimore County. They seemed to assume that I was
paying, as it was well known in the business comimunity
that engineers generally, and the smaller engineering
firms in particular, had to pay either in the guise of
political contributions or as direct payments in order to
obtain contracts from Baltimore County in those days.
Only a few of the larger and well established firms were
generally considered to be immune from having to pay.
It is my belief, based upon my experience and
understanding of the experience of others, that
engineering firms generally have to struggle for 10 to 15
years in order to get established. During their "gestation
period" and for some time thereafter they generally make
payments — sometimes through middlemen — to public
officials at various levels of government throughout
Maryland in order to get public work, or they arrange
special relationships. Sometimes they reach a point
where they are sufficiently established as qualified
engineers where they do not generally make illegal
payments in order to obtain a fair share of the public
work available.
It was my belief that J. Walter Jones was Mr.
Agnew's principal middleman in Baltimore County. He
courted engineers, developers and others and bragged a
great deal about his relationship with Mr. Agnew.
Although, as I explained earlier, I was in a favored
position with Mr. Agnew, on two or more occasions while
Mr. Agnew was County Executive, Jones requested money
from me in return for contracts I wanted or had obtained
from the Coimty. I paid him $1250 in cash in April, 1966,
and in addition made a payment ^oflHHB who at the
time was practicing law nearby, ostensibly as legal fees.
My present recollection is that I also made one or two
other payments to Jones. I felt obligated to cooperate
with. Jones because of my regard for him as a friend, and
"because he had helped me "by paying me a generous
consulting fee when I just started in business in 1963.
In late 1964, Mr. Agnew asked me to go to New York to
talk to the late Charles Velze ahout contributing to the
Republican Party as part of an arrangement to obtain a
consulting contract for a joint City-County incinerator
contract. I met with Velze and had an uncomfortable
meeting with him. He indicated he would not pay in cash
but would make political contributions lay check. We
eventually reached an arrangement wheret^r my firm was
named as a subcontractor to his for a Co\inty contract. I do
not recall if my firm ever did any work under that contract.
It was my belief that MHBHHI was another
middleman for Mr. Agne^w^nearne^rom others that
|||HIHHHII| was paying for work through flHB It is
my recollecuS^hat m his office, Mr. Agnew once
remarked to me that^Btwas paying 10% for the work
he was getting from th^Jounty. I inferred from Mr.
Agnew's comment that Mr. Agnew was surprised that
«was paying as much as 10%, m view of the fact
e going rate was generally 5%. Through
conversations wiHo^jJU/ff^aji engineer with whom I had
several joint ventures, I learned that he was making
payments for County work. I am not certa.in to whom he
made these payments, although I thought it was either
Jones oigHHHor both.
I fiLrs^neHL. H. "Bud" Hammerman, II in the late
1950's while I worked for the County. After I went into
business for myself, Mr. Hammerman gave me a
substantial amount of private engineering work. I helped
him obtain favorable rulings from the Coimty
Administration on various aspects of his property
developments in Baltimore County. Although I had
performed similar work for other developers, by 1966 I
was especially well thought of by Hammerman.
Toward the end of Mr. Agnew's tenure as County
Executive, I became aware of what might be termed a
power struggle between Jones and Hammerman. The two
men appeared to be jealous of one another and vied for
the favor of Mr. Agnew. At some point in Mr. Agnew's
term as County Executive, I formed an impression that
Mr. Agnew was to some extent uncomfortable with Jones.
Mr. Agnew indicated to friends who in turn reported to
me thatJones
which he didwasnot collecting
"beheve hefrom
was various
getting people
all of thefor money
Mr.
Agnew. As a result of these factors — and perhaps others
of which I am not aware — Hammerman seemed to have
won the power struggle at or about the time Mr. Agnew
became Governor of Maryland. Hammerman then became
a dominant figure among those close to Mr. Agnew.
During Mr. Agnew's 1966 campaign for Governor, I
offered him and he accepted $1,000 in cash as a cajnpaign
contribution. In March of 1966, 1 was asked by Mr.
Agnew to help prepare a list of my clients who might be
helpful to his campaign. I gave him a few names. I recall
that I called a few of my clients on his behalf. Later,
toward election time, he contacted me and indicated he
had enough cash. He also asked me for the names of
people to whom he might credit portions of my
contribution on his official campaign contribution
records. I do not recall whether he refunded some of this
money to me. I worked in his campaign on his behalf but
did no fund raising for him after the primary. I knew that
I had a potential personal stake in his election as
Governor, as he had sometime earlier indicated to me the
possibility that he might appoint me Chairman — Director
of the State Roads Commission, if he were elected
Governor. Hajnmerman strenuously resisted my proposed
appointment. He advised me that his opposition was no
reflection on his regard for me, but that he did not want
me to leave my consulting practice. I was handling a
project which was important to him at the time. He also
stated that he had a good working relationship with

)n or about March 1, 1967, 1 took office as Governor

Agnew's appointee as the Chairman — Director of the State
Roads Commission. I spent about a month prior to that
date working with my predecessor, John B. Funk, on the
transition of his administration.
At the beginning of my tenure as Chairman — Director
of the State Roads Commission, prior to George Lewis
assuming Directorship of the Department of Pubhc
Improvements, Governor Agnew had me monitor every
consulting engineering and construction contract that
came through the State which was slated to "be acted upon
by the Board of Public Works — the three man board which
gave final approval to the Department of Public
Improvements contracts, land acquisitions, and the like.
(These were not only State Roads Commission contracts,
but also the Department of Public Improvement
Contracts). It was obvious to me, in view of the
provisions of State Roads Commission legislation, that I
would in effect control the selection of engineers and
architects for work to be contracted for by the State
Roads Conmiission, subject only to the ultimate decision-
making authority of Governor Agnew.
At some point, probably in the spring of 1967, not
long after I had tak:en offi.ce. Bud Hammerman came to
me with a proposition which I believe had been advanced
by him to Governor Agnew. It was to the effect that
Hammerman would go on "scouting expeditions" — that is,
that he would approach engineers, after I had indicated to
him which engineers were likely to be getting work from
the State Roads Commission, for the purpose of soliciting
cash payment to be made through Hammerman for the
Governor. At first we agreed that any moneys solicited in
that manner shoiild be split three equal ways between Mr.
Agnew, Hammerman, and myself. Hammerman later
reported to me that Mr. Agnew was dissatisfied with this
arrangement and that the arrangement would be 50% for
the Governor, 25% for Ham.mLerman, and 25% for me.
Over the coiirse of the subsequent 18 or 20 months
that Mr. Agnew remained in Annapolis, there were
frequent meetings between Hammerman and myself. I
would keep lists of the available contracts, and would
notify Hammerman as to which engineers were scheduled
to receive work from the State. He would then approach
those engineers for cash payments. However, it was my
understanding, based upon conversations that I had from
time to time with Hammerman, that some engineering
firms would not be approached at all by Hammerman. He
and I did not believe lie knew anyone at those firms with
whom he felt safe in soliciting cash payments in return
for State work. After receiving cash pajrments,
Hammerman would deliver to me from time to time
amounts of cash which he represented to me as
constituting 25% of the pajonents that he was receiving
from the engineers. I have supplied to the Office of the
United States Attorney for the District of Maryland
certain contemporaneous documents and records of mine
which indicate in various ways the identity of those
engineers whom I understood were making cash
payments to Hajnmerman and the dates and amounts of
Hammerman's deliveries to me of my shares of those
payments.
All of the money I received was in cash. It was
initially kept in my home. It was then transferred to two,
and later, three safe deposit "boxes, two in Baltimore, and
one in Washington. Most of the money was spent on
ordinary household expenses over a period of more than
4 years. A small portion of it was used as part of my
payments to other Government officials in obtaining
work for the two consulting firms which I had sold before
I became Chairman, but in which I still had an interest.
As for the 50% of the money which was supposed to
be going to Governor Agnew, I always assumed that
HamLmerman passed it on to the Governor, but I have no
personal knowledge that he did so. The only information
which I can presently recall as to the disposition of Mr.
Agnew's 50% share of the cash payments is that
Hammerman on at least one occasion told me, as I recall,
that he was holding cash moneys for Mr. Agnew in one or
more safe deposit boxes. Mr. Hammerman mentioned to
me at one timte that he appreciated getting his share of
cash because despite his wealth, his needs for tax
purposes were so great that the cash helped him meet
some of his daily expenses.
During Mr. Agnew's tenure as Governor of Maryland,
I met with him from time to time to discuss the status of
various projects and the decisions which had to be made
with regard to engineering, management, and sometimes
architectural contracts. I generally prepared agendas for
these meetings in advance. I have turned over to the
Office of the United States Attorney for the District of
Majyland those agendas which I have thus far been able
to find. Mr. Agnew had complete confidence in my
technical ability and generally accorded substantial
weight to my preliminary decisions with regard to which
consulting firms should be given contracts. He would
generally concur with my selection. Occasionally where
imtportant or \inique projects were involved, I would
present him with a list of several possible firms from
which he would select the one firm to be awarded the
contract subject to approval of the Comimission. He would
also make the final selection for toll facilities, in
accordance with the 1967 Toll Bridge and Tunnel Act,
subject to the approval of the Board of Public Works.
Governor Agnew always had and from time to time
exercised the final power to make all decisions.
The selection process for such contracts generally
worked as follows: Usually, based upon previous
discussions with Governor Agnew, I would make
preliminary decisions with regard to consulting
engineering, and architectural firms to be given contracts.
I would then obtain approval from the State Roads
Commission members of my tentative selection.
Sometimes I would obtain from them prior approval of a
consultant, subject to their final approval of the executed
contract. These latter selections would, in due course, also
be discussed with the Governor.
Several factors influenced me in my own decision-
making in the selection process outlined above. Some of
them were as follows:
1. It was a basic premise of my selection process that
an engineering firm had to be competent to do the work
before it could even be considered for a contract. Any
engineering firm which, in my judgment, was competent
to performi a certain assignment might be given
consideration.
2. Both Governor Agnew ajid Mr. Hammerman would
fromi time to time ask me to give special consideration to
a particular engineering firm, and I would then try to do
so. I rememlDer, for example, tliat tlie Governor on one or
more occasions asked me to give work to Hsi, Brenner,
and Day and the A df B Engineering Co. Hammerman also
recommended at least one company that, according to my
understanding, had not paid him.
3. My decision-making (and I recall it was something
I discussed with Hammerman in particular) was done
with an eye toward avoiding substantial and noticeable
deviation from general fairness — that is, I tried to avoid
having any firm get more or less work than could "be
justified on a purely legitimate "basis. I always viewed the
process as one of accomplishing good public work for the
State of Maryland, very similar to that which woul have
"been accomplished if all the selections had "been made
strictly on their merits, "but serving our mutual ends at
the same time. I "believe Governor Agnew and
Hanmierman viewed the process in much the same way.
I regarded as important that I not deviate too
o"bviously from the appearance of fairness and even-
handedness in my selection of engineers. For example, I
"became aware I "believe initially as a result of a
conversation I had with Governor Agnew, that
Hammerman had approached an engineer named Ballard
to solicit cash payments in connection with potential
State work, and that Ballard had complained to Governor
Agnew. The Governor was very upset "because
Hammerman had been excessively heavy-handed with
Ballard. I was concerned over Ballard's publicizing his
complaint, so I continued to give his firm some work
thereafter.
4. The fact that a certain firm was making cash
payments was a definite factor in that firm's favor and
they were accorded special consideration in the decision-
making process. I believe that a comparison of the
amounts of work given to certain firms before, during,
and after Governor Agnew's administration would
confirm this.
On the other hand, there were times when a firm was
selected for a specific job totally without regard to
whether or not that firm was making cash pajrments.
Some firms had both outstanding expertise in certain
fields of engineering and were Maryland firms. This made
them obvious choices for certain jobs, whether or not
they were making cash payments. Even such firms,
however, could never be completely sure that such
considerations were decisive so that even some of them
were vulnerable to solicitations for cash payments.
5. Various other factors worked for or against
particular firms or individuals in the selection process.
For example, I definitely favored Lester Matz and Allen
Green, and their firms, for several reasons. Including the
fact that I was receiving money from certain illegal
dealings that I had with Matz and Green that did not
involve Governor Agnew. Conversely, one engineering
firm was disfavored by me because in my view they had
taken positions contrary to the best interests of the
Conunission.
In addition to the cash which I received from
Hammerman as my share of payments he was receiving
from engineers, I received $4,500 from him as a portion
of miy share of payments made to Hammerman from the
stock brokerage house of Alex Brown & Sons, Inc. in
Baltimore. It was my original understanding from
Hanmierman that a total cash payment of $50,000.00 W8U3
expected from Alex Brown, but he later told me that less
than one-half of that amount was ever actually given to
him. Hamimerman indicated that he dealt with a senior
member of the Alex Brown firm, but he did not identU^r
him to me.
The genesis of the events which resulted in cash
pajrments from Alex Brown to Hammerman occurred
when I traveled to New York City in the summer of 1967
with Governor Agnew. He and I went to one or more New
York bond houses on two different occasions ajid learned
a great deal about the bond business. I specifically
remember a meeting with a Vice-President at the firm of
Smith Barney. Mr. Joseph D. Buscher, the Special
Assistant Attorney General for the State Roads
Commission, attended the meeting with Mr. Agnew and
myself. Governor Agnew informed the Vice-President of
SmithL Barney that he was interested in learning the "basis
of the methods used in syndicating the financing of the
approximately $220,000,000 worth of State bonds that
were reqiiired to finance the second Chesapeake Bay
Bridge. The Smith Barney executive informed the
Governor that the local "bond house (in this case, Alex
Brown 6P Sons, Inc.) was not the primary functionary in
such an undertaking. The Smith Barney representative
indicated to Governor Agnew that as in previous "bond
issues negotiated in such syndications it would be the
New York house which would do the "bulk of the work.
The Governor as well as Mr. Buscher and I were startled
by that information. When Governor Agnew and I got into
a taxicab after leaving Smith Barney, the Governor
slapped his knee and said "we've got 'em!" I understood
him to mean that he was now in a position to put
pressure on Alex Brown to comply with the demands he
would make on them in return for the very substantial
bond work which the Governor was in a position to give.
I remember the Governor commenting with obvious
relish that former Governor Tawes and State Comptroller
Louis Goldstein apparently did not know that the local
bond house did little work in connection with large bond
financings. Bud Hammerman subsequently reported to me
that he had told someone at Alex Brown that the
Governor was thinking of either replacing Alex Brown or
severely limiting their participation in the upcoming
negotiations. Hammerman therefore was able to elicit
from Alex Brown the cash payments out of which
Hammerman subsequently delivered to me $4500.00. In
addition, I recall that the Governor requested that at least
one additional local firm be added to the Alex Brown
group. (In that connection but not necessarily related to
his selection of additional bond firms, I recall that
Governor Agnew told me on one occasion that he had
received valuable advice — I inferred that it was insider
information — on potentially profitable investment
opportunities in the stock market.)
I also remember the following details with regard to
cash, moneys paid to Hammerman by tlie J. E. Greiner
Company. I specifically remember a payment of $6,250.00
given to me by Hammerman as my 25% share of a
$25,000.00 cash payment which Hammerman said had
been given to him by the Greiner Company.
I also recall the following incident, which I believe
was related to the $25,000.00 payment from the Greiner
Corporation to Hammerman:^HHPwas at a certain
point "raising hell" about the award to the Greiner
Company of the design contract for the second
Chesapeake Bay Bridge. Both the Governor and I were
eager to answer ^m| complaints. Wh.en I complained to
Governor Agnew, indicating that I thought it in our
interest to have the Greiner Company do something to
defose^^BIV Governor Agnew invited |H||^ then the
||||||||||B|BB, in for breakfast one morning. I specifically
remembe^hat I was invited to the meeting but airrived
late and I was embarrassed that I missed the earlier part
of the conversation. I arrived in time to hear the
conclusion of a discussion between the Governor and
^[HmHwith regard to the possibility of the Greiner
Company filing a libel suit against ^HHj^^ after
had left, Governor Agnew told me t^^HUphad said
that if a libel suit were to be filed, fBBIiPiiiight have to
testify and that he would in such a situation have to tell
the truth. I immediately understood what that might
mean, and believed that the Governor was referring to the
threat implicit iqflBB recalling the fact that the
Greiner Company had given to Hammerman for the
Governor a $25,000.00 cash payment in consideration for
the Bay Bridge design contract which had been awarded
to the Greiner Company.
I think it necessary to mention that much of my
understanding concerning the Governor's actions and
reactions to specific situations was inferential, since we
seldom discussed any of my relations with Hammerman
or others or the fact that we were acting either jointly or
individually in a corrupt manner. I have personally
believed our relationship flourished because of our mutual
sensitivity to our own positions and our mutual respect
for one another. I do recall one comment by Mr. Agnew,
however. I was in the Governor's office in the State
House. Governor Agnew and I were standing in front of
the fireplace sifter a meeting, and he said to me — I
paraphrase — "Look after yourself but he cstreful". . . I
understood him to mean that I could personally profit
from miy activities, "but to do it discreetly.
On or about August 11, 1968, 1 prepared a list, which
I have turned over to the Office of the United States
Attorney for the District of Maryland, of those
engineering firms which, as of that time, I understood to
have been making cash payments for Governor Agnew in
retiirn for State work being awarded to them. I prepared
the list because Mr. Agnew had shortly before that time
been nominated to run for Vice-President, aind I was
interested in knowing to what extent I had profited from
the payments we had received from Hammerman and
how much I might look forward to receiving if the
Governor vacated his office and I terminated my stay
with the State. By the use of a certain code on the list, I
indicated for my own purposes at that time which firms I
then believed to be paying the Governor through
Hamimerman on the one hand and which firms I then
believed to be paying the Governor directly, on the other
hand.
At a certain point, which I believe was after Mr.
Agnew's election as Vice-President in November, 1968, but
prior to his inauguration as Vice-President on Jajiuary
20, 1969, Mr. Agnew asked me to determine the details of
payments which had been made by the State Roads
Commission under his administration to the engineering
firmi owned and operated by Allen Green. I then discussed
this request with Allen Green, and asked him to give me
his best recollection of these details of the jobs awarded to
his company and the fees paid to it. Green subsequently
prepared the list and submitted it to me. I used this
listing to prepare a list of my own and gave a copy or
duplicate of my document to Mr. Agnew. When I handed
Mr. Agnew the list, he and I did not discuss it to any
extent, according to my present recollection. Mr. Agnew
just put it away. It was my belief at that time that he did
not need to have the hst explained to him in any detail
"but was able to understand it fully on his own. I have
turned over copies of both documents (the original
prepared by me and the one prepared by Green) to the
Office of the United States Attorney for the District of
Maryland.
It is my understanding and belief that both Green and
Matz continued to make cash payments directly to Mr.
Agnew ailer he had become Vice President. I say that
because of conversations that I have had with both Green
and Matz since January 1969, in which each of them
indicated to me that he had made payments directly to
the Vice President. I believe it was Green who on at least
one occasion mentioned to me his fear that his
conversations with Mr. Agnew might have been taped or
"bugged."
Early in 1973, Matz told me that on one occasion —
which I assimie to have occiirred during the 1970
Congressional Campaign — Matz brought money to Mr.
Agnew in the White House and tendered it to him, and
that Mr. Agnew's response had been to suggest that Matz
give some or all of that money to flH||||H^|IHBBV
|fl||||PimiHI^^Matz told me thaHi^i^io^^sh to do
that; I understood that Mr. Agnew ultimately accepted the
money from Matz on that occasion.
I went to work for Mr. Agnew on the Vice President's
staff on or around March 1969, and remained for about
15 mtonths until May 1970. Thereafter, I continued as
part-time consultant to the Vice President until December
1971. My relationship with the Greiner Company, which
began in May 1970, eventually caused then White House
counsel John Dean to suggest that my relationship with
the Vice President's staff be totally severed and that was
done.
With regard to Jones, it was my impression that he
was "phased out" to a large extent by Mr. Agnew, in favor
of Bud Hammerman, after Mr. Agnew became Governor. I
believe that was because Mr. Agnew felt that he could not
trust and had been embarrassed by Jones, whom he felt
to be too crass and too loose in using Mr. Agnew's neiine.
My diaries — ^wliich contain a great wealth, of information
and wliicti I have turned over to the Office of the United
States Attorney for the District of Maryland — reveal that I
had some 13 contacts with Jones d\u»ing the period of
time that Mr. Agnew was Governor of Maryland. Jones
often sought to "romance" me in connection with some
potential real inestate
finessed him all ofdeals
these.during that period of time, "but I
Jones "resurfaced" after Mr. Agnew "became Vice
President. I am awaxe of Jones's operating in connection
with the General Services Administration after Mr.
Agnew became Vice President, but I am aware of few
details. I have the definite impression that Jones spent
much time and effort cultivating a man named
who was for a time a top official of the GSA.
Some time late in February, or early in Mairch, 1973, 1
wrote a letter to Mr. Agnew concerning the Baltimore
County kickback investigation. The substaince of the letter
was that my business associates had told the prosecutors
that they had paid me money which I in turn had paid to
certain officials in Baltimore County and other
Jurisdictions for the purpose of obtaining engineering
work. I pointed out to him that I was deeply concerned
that the investigation could create serious problems for
the Republican Party.
I was hopeful that he might intercede in my behalf to
limit or terminate the investigation of me. I gave the
letter to Hammerman and requested that he deliver it
personally to Mr. Agnew. I was told by Hamimerman that
Mr. Agnew was quite upset by the letter but he did not
give Hammerman any assurances that anything could be
done. Rather, I had the impression that little could be
done, but I sent the letter in desperation, realizing I was
in serious difficulty.
Hammerman thereafter reported to me from time to
time. At one point Hanmierman told me that Mr. Agnew
had suggested that I hold fast to my position, that no
investigation woiild be made of my tax returns, and that
immunity would not be forced on me. At another point.
the day after Easter, Hammerman called and told me tliat
he had seen Mr. Agnew and had received assiirances that
everything would come out fine. I received these
assurances with skepticism and without expecting that
anything helpful would resiilt.
I conferred with Hammerman from time to time until
June. I told him when I was planning to cooperate with
the Government because immunity would he forced on
me. William Fornoff had just recently entered a guilty plea
and was reported to he cooperating with the Government
in naming those persons who had made payments to him.
Hammerman claimed that Fornoff had assured him that
he had not named either of us. I did not "believe this. I
stopped contact with Hanmierman after I began
cooperating with the Government.
I told George White of my concern about the
investigation on January 30, 1973. 1 told him I felt
desperate. He told me to see him. I met with him in the
company of Matz shortly thereafter. Both Matz and I
made a spirited presentation of the problems we faced
and stated our belief that Mr. Agnew was in imminent
danger of being embarrassed, or worse, as a result of the
investigation. We both importuned White to intercede
with Mr. Agnew on our behalf. I was especially anxious
that Mr. Agnew be contacted either by White or
Hammerman before I was subpoenaed. Shortly thereafter
I sent Mr. Agnew my letter through Hammerman. I later
concluded that White had either been unsuccessful if he
had tried to help us, or that he had done nothing.
 UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT
DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE

Memorandum
TO: The Files DATE: August 23, 1973

FROM: Thomas H. Henderson, Jr.

Deputy Chief, Management and
Labor Section

SUBJECT:

At 3:45 p.m., on this date Pamela Higgins, an

Assistant District Attorney from Philadelphia who assists
Richard Sprague in the Yablonski prosecutions, called me.
She stated that she had received a telephone call this
morning from a member of the national news media. She
stated that this person, who she declined to identify, is a
long-time friend of Mr. Sprague. She related that this
person said that a colleague of his had received a tip from
a Justice Depairtment official in Washington that W. A.
Boyle was about to be indicted very soon and that a UMW
member from a "Pennsylvania local" had directly
implicated Boyle in the murder of Joseph Yablonski. This
reporter then stated that the Justice Department official
was the same official who had leaked information about
the Agnew investigation in Maryland and that while this
official was connected with the Agnew investigation he
did not know any details of the Boyle information because
he had only overheard it in the Justice Department. Mrs.
Higgins informed me that she told the reporter that she
had no comment on the information, but off the record
his information was "lousy." She also stated that, in her
opinion, the story woiild not be printed.
 After receiving this phone call from Mrs. Higgins, I
then informed Henry Petersen of the above facts. I have
been informed that the only two officials in the Criminal
Div., Justice Department who are working on the Agnew
investigation are Mr. Petersen and Phil White.*
It shoiild he noted that a witness in the Yahlonski
case has been voluntarily undergoing a polygraph
examination in Knoxville, Tennessee, for the past two
weeks. The examiner is Special Agent J. R. Pierce, FBI,
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Mr. Rerce also administered
the polygraph examinations in connection with the
Agnew investigation in Baltimore last week.

*Mr. Petersen made this known to me as we were

discussing this item of information.
INDEX
 /

Adams, John, 127n. legal harassment of, 211-212,

Adams, Sherman, 36 221-222
Agnew, Spiro T. letter of resignation, 198-199
attempt to plead case before Matz and, 43-46, 48-49, 51, 54-
House of Representatives, 55, 57, 59, 68, 73-76, 80,
140-143, 164-172 98, 99, 118-120, 204
Beall (George) and, 58, 59, 80, mental attitude during criminal
99, 101, 111, 113, 133, 135- investigation, 147-148
136, 139, 204, 207-208, negotiations
156 for resignation, 149-
218-219
Blacks and, 65, 141, 147 net-worth investigation of, 136-
on campaign fund-raising, 52- 139, 192
53, 64-65, 122-123 the news media and, 18-19, 21,
charitable donations of, 137 27, 28-29, 33, 35-36, 37,
on Communism, 30-31 57, 104, 130-134, 138, 147,
consulting business of, 221-222 163, 172-177, 224
defense fund created for, 185- the 1970 Presidential campaign,
186, 189 37
disbarred from legal profession, Nixon and, 22, 25-26, 28, 31-
217-218
34, 134-135
Dunn and, 36-37, 90, 132, 148, on the Agnew resignation, 203
170, 186-189, 216-217 discuss White House tapes, 87
federal government trial of, 13- gradual isolation from Presi-
18 130 dent, 35-40, 66, 101-104,
financial worth of, 123-124
Goldwater and, 39, 151, 186 the Gridiron Club dinner, 33-
Green (Allen) and, 89-91, 98, 34
99, 118, 136, 145-146, 161, informed of criminal investi-
207-208, 212-213 gation against Agnew, 51
informs Nixon of official res-
Haig and, 95-97, 101-105, 132,
141-146, 157, 181-182, 196 ignation, 197-198
Hammerman and, 49, 51-54, 72, meetings after official crimi-
nal charges are made, 107-
82-83, 98, 110, 117, 120- 108, 140-141, 157-158,
129, 145-146, 212 163-164
holds press conference to refute reaction to charges against
criminal charges, 112-115 Agnew, 97
281
282 INDEX

Agnew, Spiro T. (cont.) Air Force Two, 22, 24, 25

oflficially placed under criminal Albert, Carl, 146, 151, 163, 165,
investigation, 92-94 168-172
Petersen and, 100, 101, 109- Alex Brown and Sons, 126
112, 142, 143, 144, 150, Alton, Joseph, 54-55
159, 183-184, 185 American Bar Association, 219
Presidential aspirations of, 86, American Civil Liberties Union,
102, 128, 179, 202 173
pressure on Agnew to resign, American Scholar, 219
102-104, 141, 145-146, Anderson,
120 Dale, 42, 67, 70, 71, 117,
149, 182
publicly attacks Justice Depart- Anderson, John B., 151
ment, 179-180 Arends, Leslie C, 188
refuses cash contribution to 1968 As You Like It (Shakespeare), 14
campaign, 63 Ashbrook, John, 39
on relations with China, 34-35
reservations about SALT I, 31- Baker, Russell T., Jr., 42-43, 49,
32 50, 59, 67-69, 73, 100, 101,
Richardson and, 78-79, 83-84, 111-112, 120, 194-196, 210
91, 95, 98-101, 105, 116, Baltimore
126 Evening Sun, The, 48n.,
130-132, 134, 141, 144-
145, 150-156, 158-161, Baltimore Sun, The, 218
171-172 Banzhaff, John F., Ill, 161
Rockefeller and, 60-62, 64 Barbosa, Joseph, 206
Sinatra and, 177-178, 203-206 Barry, Stephanie, 221
provides Agnew with financial Bay of Pigs disaster, 26
aid, 204 Baylin, Lee, 126
Sohmer and, 14, 18, 20, 33, 36- Beall, Betty, 202n.
37, 90, 102, 104, 132, 148, Beall, George, 15, 44-45, 49n., 50-
168, 170, 182-183, 186, 51, 62, 69, 71-73, 75, 78,
215, 216, 217 83, 92-93, 120, 123, 159,
Southeast Asian tour of, 23-26 184, 185
tax habilities against, 217, 219 Agnew and, 58, 59, 80, 99, 101,
transition period after resigna- 111, 113, 133, 135-136,
tion, 215-219 139, 204, 207-208, 218-
219
on the Vietnam War, 23, 26-30
on the Watergate scandal, 65- Beall, Glenn, Jr., 50-51, 58, 68, 90
66, 105-106 Beall, Glenn, Sr., 88, 89, 99
White and, 59, 64, 68, 117, 147- Beall, Richard, 89
148 Bellotti, Francis, 79
Wolff and, 43-44, 46-52, 59, Benny, Jack, 149
71-73, 76, 80, 98, 118, Berle, Milton, 206
145-146, 204, 212 Best, Judd, 13, 19, 58-59. 80, 81,
writes novel, 219-220 92-93, 95n., 98-100, 113,
Agnew Defense Fund, 185-186, 141, 144-146, 148, 150.
189 152, 156, 163, 188, 194,
196
Ahepa (Greek lodge), 61
 INDEX 283

Bethesda Naval Hospital, 86 Connally, John, 125, 130

Blacks, 14, 65, 147 Nixon and, 38-40, 130, 201-202
B'Nai B'Rith Anti-Defamation Conservative Advocate, The, 174-
League, 162 176
Boggs, Hale, 96, 97 Constantine, Gus, 63
Bork, Robert, 202 Cox, Archibald, 60, 69, 79, 131,
Boston Globe, The, 151, 173 135, 150, 181-182, 196,
Bowie State College, 65 202, 203
Brennan, Lt. Colonel, 187 Crewdson, John M., 175
Brezhnev, Leonid, 31 Crosby, Ring, 206
Broder, David, 186 Curley, James, 80
Brooke, Edward, 39
Brooks Brothers, 124 Damgard, John, 74, 90
Brown, H. Rap, 65 Dean, John, 58, 59
Buchanan, Pat, 28 Deschler, Lew, 168
Butterfield, Alex, 87 Devine, Sam, 197
Buzhardt, J. Fred, 96, 97, 141- Dickinson, Bill, 197
146, 158, 187-189, 194-196 Dixon, Assistant Attorney General,
Cacheris, Plato, 117, 118 80
Drake Hotel, 185
Calhoun, John C, 165, 166, 167
Dreyfus, Captain Alfred, 160-161
Cambodia, 23-26, 29-30 Dundore, Harry A., Sr., 76, 136
Cambridge (Maryland) riot, 65
Dunn, Mike, 36-37, 90, 132, 148,
Camp David, 102
170, 186-189, 216-217
Canfield Decision, The (Agnew),
220, 221
Canyon Country Club, 205 Egypt, 194
Carter, Jimmy, 30, 34, 66, 161- Ehrlichman, John, 36, 37-38, 59,
162 175
Casa Pacifica, 79 Eisenhower, Dwight D., 102
Castro, Fidel, 190 Ervin, Sam, 110
Catonsville Nine, 50 Esterhazy, Major Marie Charles
Central Intelligence Agency Ferdinand Walsin, 160
(C.I.A.), 35, 61, 190 Evans, Rowland, 131
Chennault, Anna, 106
Chesapeake National Bank (Tow- Faisal, King, 211
son), 56, 123 Federal Bureau of Investigation
Chicago Tribune, The, 113n. (F.B.I. ), 48, 190, 207
Childs, John, 44, 46, 71, 73 Fifth Amendment, 54
Chotiner, Murray, 36 First National Bank (Washington,
Claude, Dr. Inis L., Jr., 219 D.C.), 123
Cohen, Richard M., 75 Food Fair Stores, Inc., 138
Colson, Charles, 58, I57n. Ford, Gerald R., 127n., 162, 169,
Columbia Broadcasting System 188, 201, 203, 216
(CBS), 163, 173 Ford Foundation, 127
Committee to Re-Elect the Presi- Foreign Intelligence Advisory
dent, 105 Board, 61
284 INDEX

Fornoff, William E., 42, 52, 67, 69, Harlow, Bryce, 33, 36, 102-105,
151
70, 108
Freedom of Information Act, 10 Heames, Warren, 185-186
Frenkil, Victor, 96 Heartbeat Away, A (Cohen and
Friedman, Saul, 113n. Witcover), 46, 75, 78, 81,
Fringer, Alice, 20 92, 131
Hecht, Samuel, 47
Garland, Keith, 186, 187 Heine, Edward, 210
Garmatz, Edward A., 210 Ho Chi Minh, 29
Garment, Leonard, 96, 97 Hoffman, Judge Walter E., 13, 15,
Gaudreau, Paul, 42, 108 17, 18, 77, 177, 184-185,
General Services Administration, 197, 199, 209n.
100 Home Beneficial Life Insurance
Goldwater, Barry, 201 Company, 222
Agnew and, 39, 151, 186 Hope, Bob, 206
Gould, Jay, 121 House of Representatives Select
Graham, Fred, 173, 174 Committee on Crime, 206
Gray, L. Patrick, III, 50 Hutchinson, Edward, 169, 170
Green, Allen, 27, 83, 85, 140, 170
Agnew and, 89-91, 98, 99, 118, ICBM's Missiles),
(Intercontinental
31 Ballistic
136, 145-146, 161, 207-
208, 212-213 Indochina, 23, 30
conviction of, 129, 212-213 Indonesia, 25
Green, Max, 88, 146n. Internal Revenue Service (I.R.S.),
Green Associates, Inc., 88, 146n. 42, 46, 63, 64, 123, 125,
Greene, Jerry, 172 137, 150, 187, 189, 192-
Gridiron Club dinner, 33-34 193, 203, 217
Israel, 162, 194, 195
Haig, General Alexander, 24, 86,
87, 92 Jamieson, Frank, 203
Agnew and, 95-97, 101-105, Javits, Jacob, 39
132, 141-146, 157, 181- Johnson, Lyndon B., 27, 34, 106,
192, 196 125
as de facto President, 190 Jones, J. Walter, 44, 45, 56, 59, 63-
Nixon and, 190-192 64, 74-75, 91, 98, 110,
Haldeman, Bob, 31-32, 33, 36, 57- 117-120, 136, 206-207,
59, 101 212-213
Hammerman, I. Harold (Bud), 22, Jordan, Hamilton, 36
64, 108, 136, 140, 170, 222 Joulwan, Major, 187
Agnew and, 49, 51-54, 72, 82-
83, 98, 110, 117, 120-129, Kalmbach, Herbert, 50-51
145-146, 212 Kaltenbach, Albert, 88
conviction of, 208-209, 210 Kaplan, 81Joseph H. H, 57, 67-73,
Wolff and, 53-54, 121-124
Hammerman, Sam, 121, 122 Keene, David, 20, 197
Harford County Detention Center, Kennedy, Edward, 172
207 Kennedy, John F., 26, 28
 INDEX 285

Kennedy, Joseph, 121 Matz, Childs and Associates, Inc.,

Kennedy, Roger G., 127 44, 54
Khmer Rouge, 24, 25, 30 Meet the Press (TV program), 34
Kiwanis Club, 137 Memoirs (Nixon), 58, 97, 105, 203
King, Martin Luther, Jr., 65, 141 MIRV's (Multiple Independently-
Kissinger, Henry, 28, 29, 35, 87, Targeted Reentry Vehicles ),
151, 190, 197 31
Kleindienst, Richard, 45, 49-50, 59, Mitchell, John, 62, 96-97
204 Monroe, James, 165
Morrer, Admiral Thomas, 31
Mote, Walter, 168, 170
Laird, Melvin, 27, 28, 131-132, Muskie, Edmund, 50
151, 191
Lambert, Hugh, 205 National Aeronautics and Space
Land, Marvin J., 222 Administration (NASA), 47
Landauer, Jerry, 102 National Association of Counties,
Laos, 25, 26 60
Le Due Tho, 24, 25 National Federation of Republican
Lewis, Joe E., 206 Women, 177, 179-180
Liebman, Ronald S., 49n., 85, 120, National Governors' Conference,
129, 143, 184, 209 185-186
Life and Casualty Company of National League of Families of
Tennessee, 222 American Prisoners and
Lon Nol, General, 24-25 Missing in Southeast Asia,
London, Martin, 13, 98, 100, 116, 137
143-144, 153, 154, 185 National Life Insurance Company
London Economist, 29 of Vermont, 222
Long, Russell, 96, 97 National Security Council (N.S.C.),
Loring Beyer Funeral Home, 18 26, 27-28, 35, 86, 189, 211
New York Bank for Savings, 222
McCloskey, Paul, 39 New York Daily News, 172
McFall, John, 169 New York Times, The, 131, 173,
McGovern, George, 23, 40 174, 175, 177
Malatesta, Peter, 187, 205 Newell, Frank H., 115
Malaysia, 25, 30 News media, 18-19, 21, 27, 28-
Marine Council, 47 29, 33, 35-36, 37, 57, 104,
Maryland, University of, 216 130-134, 138, 147, 163,
Maryland Bar Association, 73 172-177, 224
Mathias, Charles, 62 Newsweek, 131
Matz, Lester, 22, 42, 52, 70-71, 83, Nguyen Van Thieu, President, 23-
108, 136, 170, 222 24
Agnew and, 43-46, 48-49, 51, Nixon, Richard M., 22-24, 27-28,
54-55, 57, 59, 68-69, 73- 86, 98, 219
76, 80, 98, 99, 118-120, Agnew and, 22, 25-26, 28, 31-
204
34, 134-135
financial problems of, 46, 56-57, on Agnew's resignation, 203
140 discuss White House tapes, 87
286 INDEX

Nixon, Richard M. (cont.) Phnom Penh, Cambodia, 24-25

Agnew and (cont.) Pollard, Anne, 18, 19
the Gridiron Club dinner, 33- Pollard, Roy, 18, 21
34 Polur, Sam, 211, 212, 221-222
informed of criminal investiga-
tion, 51
Queen, Dr. J. Emmett, 148
informs Nixon of official res-
ignation, 197-198
meetings after official criminal Raspberry, William, 173
Rash, Joseph, 138
charges are made, 107-
Rayburn Office Building scandal,
108, 140-141, 157-158,
163-164 96-97
reaction to charges against Reagan, Ronald, 38, 61, 201
Agnew, 97 Reston, James, 175, 177
on Bay of Pigs disaster, 26 Richardson, EUiot, 15, 18, 59-60,
Connally and, 38-40, 130, 201- 72, 80-81, 185, 194-197
202 Agnew and, 78-79, 83-84, 91,
Haig and, 190-192 95, 98-101, 105, 116, 130-
Richardson and, 60, 78-79, 116, 132, 134, 141, 144-145,
130, 135, 155, 182, 194, 150-156, 158-161, 171-172
202, 203 informs Haig of criminal inves-
SALT I and, 31 tigation against Agnew, 92
the White House tapes and, 87, informs Nixon of criminal inves-
181-182, 191, 202 tigation against Agnew, 97
Novak, Robert, 131 Nixon and, 60, 78-79, 116, 130,
135, 155, 182, 194, 202, 203
resignation of, 202
O'Neill, Thomas P. (Tip), 169, 171 Ripon Society, 39
Organization of Petroleum Export-
ing Countries (OPEC), 211 Roche, John R., 173
Rockefeller, John D., 121
Parr, Jerry, 20 Rockefeller, Nelson, 38, 127n., 201
Pathlite, Inc., 221 Agnew and, 60-62, 64
Patriarca, Raymond, 206 Rodino, Peter, 169, 171
Paul, Weiss, Rifkind, Wharton & Rogers, Bill, 27
Garrison (law firm), 98 Romney, George, 60
Peace Corps, 50 Roosevelt, Franklin D., 131
Royster, Vermont, 172, 219
People's 107
Republic of China, 34-35, Ruckelshaus, William D., 112, 143,
Petersen, Henry, 15, 18, 97, 116, 173-176, 196, 202
117, 153, 158, 174 Rudin, Mickey, 178, 203-204
Agnew and, 100, 101, 109-112,
142, 143, 144, 150, 159, Sacco-Vanzetti trial, 79, 160
183-184, 185 Sachs, Sidney, 120, 129, 208
leaks to news media, 163, 173, Sachs, Steve, 96
175, 176 Safire, William, 173, 174
Philippines, the, 25 St. Joseph Hospital, 220
Phillips, Kevin, 79-80 Saturday Night Massacre, 202
 INDEX 287
Scott, Hugh, 151 Thailand, 24, 25, 30
Secret Service, 20, 100, 123, 126, Thayer, Judge Webster, 79
128, 138, 139, 149-150, Thieu, President, 106
213, 215, 220, 221 Thompson, James, 70
Shakespeare, WiUiam, 14 Thompson, Judge Rozel, 211
Shattuck, Henry Lee, 79-80 Thomson, Marsh, 102, 132, 170,
Shea, Mrs. Donald, 137 182-183, 188
Sheraton Park Hotel, 125 Time, 48n., 132
Shriver, Sargent, 23 Tkach, Dr. Walter, 86
Shultz, George, 87 Topkis, Jay H., 13, 15, 98, 100,
Sidey, Hugh, 182n. 116, 135, 141-145, 154-
Sihanouk, Prince Norodom, 29 156, 159-161, 176, 184,
Sinatra, Frank, 137, 148, 149, 177- 185
178, 203-206 Truman, Harry, 27, 87
Singapore, 25, 30 Tydings, Joseph, 68-69
Singer Company, The, 207
Sirik Matak, 25 Union of Soviet Socialist Republics
Skelton, Red, 206 (U.S.S.R.),26, 27, 107, 194
Skolnik, Barnet, 49n., 50, 69, 71, SALT I and, 31-32
73, 75, 78, 84, 113, 123, United Christian Citizens, Inc., 137
184, 195, 196, 207-210 U.S. Capitol Historical Society, 171
Smith, Gerard, 31, 32 U.S. Congress, Agnew and
Sohmer, Art, 14, 18, 20, 33, 36- attempt to plead case before
37, 90, 102, 104, 132, 148, House of Representatives,
168, 170, 182-183, 186, 140-143, 164-172
215, 216, 217 United States Line, 210
Southern Governors' Conference
(1967), 137 Vietnam War, 23-30, 106, 127
Spencer, Dr. Jean E., 217 Agnew on, 23, 26-30
Spiro Agnew T-shirts, 137 Vietnamization, 28
Spiro Agnew wristwatches, 137
Spock, Dr. Benjamin, 173 Waggonner, Joe D., Jr., 197
Stans, Maury, 117 Wail Street Journal, The, 51, 102,
State Roads Commission (Mary- 172, 219
land), 47 Warner, Mary Ellen, 20, 132, 148,
Stewart R. Mott & Associates, 211- 221
212, 222 Warner, Walter, 221
Stone, W. Clement, 185, 186, 187, Warren, Earl, 125
189 Warren, Gerald, 114
Strategic Arms Limitation Treaty Washington Post, The, 35, 68, 131,
(SALT I), 31-32 163, 172-175, 177, 186, 219
Sulka's, 124 Washington Star, The, 48n., 137,
Sullivan, Brendan, 85, 88 139, 202n., 210-211
Syria, 194 Washington Star-News, 204
Watergate scandal, 40, 57, 58-60,
Taiwan, 34 87, 94, 179-180, 219
Talmadge, Herman, 139 Agnew on, 65-66, 105-106
288 INDEX

Weiner, Arnold, 57, 59, 72-75, 81, Wolff, Jerome B., 22, 42, 48n., 70,
147, 210 82, 108, 170, 222
White, George, 41-45, 49, 59, 64, Agnew and, 43-44, 46-52, 59,
72 71-73, 76, 80, 98, 118,
Agnew and, 59, 64, 68, 117, 145-146, 204, 212
147-148 financial problems of, 46, 47, 49,
White, Philip T., 116 54-55, 56, 140, 209
White House top aides, pressure Hammerman and, 53-54, 121-
Agnew to resign, 102-104, 124
141, 145-146, 149, 182
Wicker, Tom, 174, 175
Yom Kippur War, 195
Williams, Edward Bennett (law
firm), 85
Wilson, Woodrow, 131 Zaire, 35
Witcover, Jules, 75, 213 Ziegler, Ronald, 87, 130
Witt, Hal, 120 Zola, Emile, 160-161