really Walter Schumaker. Schumaker had been developed as an informant by Special Agents Charles Reese and Victor Pryor of the San Francisco Field Office two years earlier. He was known to have contacts among radical and Communist groups in the Berkeley area and on the Berkeley campus of the University of California. Schumaker received amounts varying from sixty dollars per month to a hundred and fifty dollars during a period of a year ending in June 1980. Payments were discontinued because the information Reese and Pryor were getting from Schumaker didn’t warrant keeping him on the payroll. Schumaker then dropped out of the Berkeley area.
Question: What happened to Walter Schumaker?
Collins and Garvey exchanged glances. Collins whistled softly through his teeth.
“Exactly,” Macimer said. “A former FBI informant was with the PRC. And that’s not all of it. He wasn’t just a former informant. He was being run by another agent who called himself Brea—a code name. Apparently Schumaker didn’t know him by any other name. And there’s no FBI record of such a code name being used.”
“How do we know there was such a guy?” asked Garvey.
“I’ll let you hear it for yourselves,” Macimer replied. He swiveled his chair toward the Panasonic tape recorder on a shelf of his bookcase behind the desk. The cassette was already in place. “There are two tapes, both of which were sent by Lippert to the Engineering Section of the Lab for comparison. I’ll tell you about the other tape after you hear this.
“The tape covers a recorded conversation received by Special Agent Katherine Washington in the Sacramento Field Office at 11:02 A.M . August 27, 1981-the day before the San Timoteo disaster.” Macimer punched the “start” and “play” buttons on the recorder and sat back. Garvey and Collins both hunched forward in their chairs to listen. Macimer said, “The woman’s voice, obviously, is Agent Washington.”
CALLER : I’d like to talk to Brea.
WASHINGTON : Would you please spell your name, just for our records?
CALLER : You don’t need my name. Brea knows who I am.
WASHINGTON : I’m not sure I understand. Who is Brea?
CALLER : Hey, don’t play games with me, lady. I don’t have much time. This phone number he gave me to call if there was an emergency doesn’t answer, and I’ve got an emergency.
WASHINGTON : What kind of emergency?
CALLER : I’ve got to talk to Brea.
WASHINGTON : If you’ll give me your name, and tell me who Brea is—
CALLER : He’s the one I been reporting to. Listen, okay, if he’s not there, just give him the message. Tell him the situation isn’t what I told him. It’s changed.
WASHINGTON : Can you be a little more specific?
CALLER : On the telephone? Are you kidding?
WASHINGTON : Sir, there is no Agent Brea in this office. Are you sure you have the right name?
CALLER : Sure I’m sure! Listen, I know it isn’t his real name. It’s—what do you call it?—his code name. Okay. You get him the message, and I mean fast! I got to know if the plan is still on, you know? He’s got to give me time to get out, and I’ll need some bread.
WASHINGTON : Where can he reach you?
CALLER (laughter): You think I’m stupid? He knows where I am. I’m with the Egyptian.
WASHINGTON : The Egyptian? What-?
Macimer punched off the recorder. “That’s where he hung up.”
For a long moment there was silence in the small, crowded office as the two young agents digested what they had heard. Garvey appeared puzzled. Collins, Macimer thought, was quicker. He pursed his lips, the whistle this time silent.
“The Egyptian,” Garvey said suddenly. “Ramses?”
“Maybe. Remember, at the time this call was received, it was just one of some two hundred calls that came into the Task Force Center at Sacramento during a forty-eight-hour period, nearly half of them claiming to have information about the PRC. So at the time nobody paid much attention to the call for Brea. No one had ever heard of
Question: What happened to Walter Schumaker?
Collins and Garvey exchanged glances. Collins whistled softly through his teeth.
“Exactly,” Macimer said. “A former FBI informant was with the PRC. And that’s not all of it. He wasn’t just a former informant. He was being run by another agent who called himself Brea—a code name. Apparently Schumaker didn’t know him by any other name. And there’s no FBI record of such a code name being used.”
“How do we know there was such a guy?” asked Garvey.
“I’ll let you hear it for yourselves,” Macimer replied. He swiveled his chair toward the Panasonic tape recorder on a shelf of his bookcase behind the desk. The cassette was already in place. “There are two tapes, both of which were sent by Lippert to the Engineering Section of the Lab for comparison. I’ll tell you about the other tape after you hear this.
“The tape covers a recorded conversation received by Special Agent Katherine Washington in the Sacramento Field Office at 11:02 A.M . August 27, 1981-the day before the San Timoteo disaster.” Macimer punched the “start” and “play” buttons on the recorder and sat back. Garvey and Collins both hunched forward in their chairs to listen. Macimer said, “The woman’s voice, obviously, is Agent Washington.”
CALLER : I’d like to talk to Brea.
WASHINGTON : Would you please spell your name, just for our records?
CALLER : You don’t need my name. Brea knows who I am.
WASHINGTON : I’m not sure I understand. Who is Brea?
CALLER : Hey, don’t play games with me, lady. I don’t have much time. This phone number he gave me to call if there was an emergency doesn’t answer, and I’ve got an emergency.
WASHINGTON : What kind of emergency?
CALLER : I’ve got to talk to Brea.
WASHINGTON : If you’ll give me your name, and tell me who Brea is—
CALLER : He’s the one I been reporting to. Listen, okay, if he’s not there, just give him the message. Tell him the situation isn’t what I told him. It’s changed.
WASHINGTON : Can you be a little more specific?
CALLER : On the telephone? Are you kidding?
WASHINGTON : Sir, there is no Agent Brea in this office. Are you sure you have the right name?
CALLER : Sure I’m sure! Listen, I know it isn’t his real name. It’s—what do you call it?—his code name. Okay. You get him the message, and I mean fast! I got to know if the plan is still on, you know? He’s got to give me time to get out, and I’ll need some bread.
WASHINGTON : Where can he reach you?
CALLER (laughter): You think I’m stupid? He knows where I am. I’m with the Egyptian.
WASHINGTON : The Egyptian? What-?
Macimer punched off the recorder. “That’s where he hung up.”
For a long moment there was silence in the small, crowded office as the two young agents digested what they had heard. Garvey appeared puzzled. Collins, Macimer thought, was quicker. He pursed his lips, the whistle this time silent.
“The Egyptian,” Garvey said suddenly. “Ramses?”
“Maybe. Remember, at the time this call was received, it was just one of some two hundred calls that came into the Task Force Center at Sacramento during a forty-eight-hour period, nearly half of them claiming to have information about the PRC. So at the time nobody paid much attention to the call for Brea. No one had ever heard of
Similar Books
