I did what he said; he knew his business. He told me to stand up, clasp my hands behind my head, and I did. He had a self-satisfied, almost gloating look on his face, and he started talking to me, telling about himself. At first, I thought he was just bragging, perhaps trying to build himself up in his own eyes, but then I realized that Barney Goodman had little or no opportunity to tell others what a really important man he was. Probably only a few other Communists high in the party, possibly only the National Committee, knew who he really was, what was planned for him. He must often have itched to tell others what he was telling me.
“Lewis Tollman died the day I entered Merriman Hospital. I got a new face, younger, to match the age on my new birth certificate. My hand was operated on. I
