1942

“We will need gasoline to travel,” he said, as a merchant would. “And a vehicle. I can supply a driver.”

“No problem at all,” Omori responded loftily.

“Then I am sure we would both wish to help.”

As Kaga departed for his home and his son, he wondered how he could have been so infatuated by Japanese successes. He had served in the Japanese army against the Russians at Port Arthur in 1905. There he had seen the ruling military caste’s excesses, brutality, and contempt for life. He had been an enlisted man and treated with scorn at best by his superiors, and seen the lives of his comrades wasted in desperate assaults on Russian barbed wire. The Japanese army had succeeded, but only after crawling over the piled corpses of its soldiers.

Following the war, Kaga had deserted and, with assistance from relatives, found passage to Hawaii. How could he have been so stupid as to think only a few decades could change the minds of the masters in Tokyo? Worse, if Omori probed deep enough, he would find that Toy-oza Kaga was a felon because of his desertion.

Kaga had thought that his past was well behind him. Now he knew better.

CHAPTER 16

The congressman from Ohio was short and overweight, which partially contributed to his sweating profusely, even though it wasn’t all that warm. A Democratic representative from an ethnically Italian district in Cleveland, Dominic Cordelli had been an FDR backer since Roosevelt won his party’s candidacy for the vice presidency in 1920.

As luck would have it, FDR’s loss had also been FDR’s future gain. He was governor of New York when Herbert Hoover became reviled as the cause of the Great Depression. That the charge was unfair, and that Hoover was a decent and hardworking president, was irrelevant. Someone had to take the blame for the economic catastrophe, and it had occurred on the Republican Party’s watch, which resulted in Roosevelt’s victory in 1932.

In 1932, Dominic Cordelli had been swept to office on his president’s coattails and, like Roosevelt, never left. He had supported FDR on every issue, including Roosevelt’s ill-advised attempt to stack an uncooperative Supreme Court with more malleable members.

Cordelli did not have difficulty getting brief meetings with Roosevelt, and the representative, both wise and cunning, did not abuse the privilege. He had to wait only a couple of days before seeing the president, while other petitioners waited a lifetime.

Admiral William Leahy, the president’s chief of staff and soon to be chairman of the Joint Chiefs, had arranged the meeting and was with FDR, who quickly noticed Cordelli’s agitation. “Dominic, my friend, be seated and tell me what’s on your mind,” Roosevelt said.

Cordelli wiped his sweaty brow with a handkerchief that had been clean earlier in the day. “Mr. President, I need a favor. No, not a favor. Perhaps information and assurances would be more like it.”

Roosevelt shrugged and smiled disarmingly. “Ask.”

“I have a niece, a Mrs. Alexa Sanderson. Her husband was killed in the attack on Pearl Harbor.”

“Dreadful,” Roosevelt said with genuine sympathy. Then he turned impish. “Sanderson doesn’t sound terribly Italian, though.”

“She’s not. She’s a WASP from Virginia and related on my wife’s side. The problem is that the niece is still in Hawaii. The FBI has been out to see us because she’s making radio broadcasts and signing documents that could be considered treasonous. I want you to know that my niece would never do such a thing except under extreme duress. The FBI may be thinking of prosecuting her for something she was forced to do or say with a gun pointed at her head.”

Roosevelt stole a glance at Leahy, who had been briefed when Cordelli had asked for the meeting. This had enabled Leahy to do a little research.

“Have you heard the speeches?” the admiral asked.

“Yes. The FBI was kind enough to play a couple for me. The language is convoluted and awkward. It isn’t hers. She’s highly educated and simply doesn’t speak that way.” Cordelli managed a wan grin. “Hell, it sounded worse than some of my constituents. No, sir, she’s reading from a prepared script, and I’m convinced she’s being forced to do it.”

Roosevelt smiled. “If that is the case, she cannot be charged with any crime.” He looked at a note that Leahy had handed him just before the congressman’s arrival. The president leaned forward and looked intently at Cordelli. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course,” Cordelli said.

Roosevelt spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “It does not surprise you that we are in contact with certain elements in occupied lands, does it?”

“Not at all.”

“Good. Well, what I am going to say must not leave this room, is that understood?”

“Of course,” Cordelli responded eagerly. Both men knew he would tell his wife.

“Your niece is among several who have been forced by the Japs to send messages like that. We know they have been forced to do it.”

“Poor Alexa.” Cordelli sighed. “My wife is upset enough as it is without her thinking of Lexy being mistreated.”