attorney general “bugs” moran, who considered himself a man of the people, always listened politely to whatever his underlings, including secretaries, typists, and bodyguards, had to say.
but when his old pal sharkey, whom he had installed as head of the “secret service” (the curious title for the army of bodyguards who protected the president and other high ranking public officials) was halfway through his recital, he smiled and held up his hand.
“shark, i gave you a soft job, and it looks it’s turning your brain soft. i’m a busy man, i know you think i just sit in this office all day doing nothing, but trust me, al gives me a lot to do. now one thing you are being paid to do is listen to stories like this so that i don’t have to. and more specially, that al doesn’t have to, especially at this time, whe he is getting ready for this great peace conference in paris france, which perhaps you might have heard of?”
“i understand that, george “ - the attorney general no longer liked to be addressed as “bugs”, even by his oldest friends, and was not comfortable with “mister moran” from them, either, so they called him “george” - "but, i’m telling you, it isn’t just this one guy, and it isn’t just me. dempsey, mcgurk, mcgurn, we are all hearing these stories. and so are the guys in the fbi -“
“yeah, i heard some of them, but you know what i think if the fbi. i figured guys like you from the old neighborhood had more sense, that’s why me and al keep you around.”
“and -,” sharkey continued, “so are the contacts i got in the embassies, the mexican”, the german, the british - “
“the british don’t count -“ moran said.
“i know that, and you know that, but some of these - these people who re trying to get through , they seem to be just a bit behind the times, if you get my drift -“
moran rubbed his eyes. “so what exactly do you want from me, shark?”
“just listen to one of these guys, george. i got one downstairs right now, in the coffee shop, mcgurn’s keeping him company, i can have him up here in ten minutes, just see what you think of him, all right? we can see where we go from there.”
“nowhere, i am sure. but all right, send him up. does this character have a name?”
“yeah, but it’s real long, and i can’t remember it. we call him mister green.”
“and mister green is what exactly, the ambassador from somewhere?”
“yeah, somewhere from outer space or a different - a different remension or something, but i can’t remember that either. but wait till you see him. you can't say he doesn’t dress nice.”
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