Wall Street's Ugly Face Hits the Papers (Please Vote Monthly Tickets)

Before long, Hoover entered the Oval Office.

Seeing him come in, Roosevelt leaned forward slightly from his wheelchair and extended a hand. "Hello, Director Hoover."

"Good day, Mr. President."

Hoover quickly stepped forward and took his hand, his voice respectful and restrained.

"You did well with the investigation into Wall Street."

Hoover cast Feilan, standing to one side, a grateful look before answering, "It was all thanks to Mr. Feilan. I merely lent a hand."

"Feilan has just told me that it is necessary to elevate the Bureau of Investigation's authority. But before that, I want to ask you a few questions."

Hoover immediately straightened his back. "Please go ahead, Mr. President."

"With these powers, what can you do for the country? And what plans do you have for the Bureau of Investigation, which will leap into becoming a major department once its authority is elevated?"

Hoover drew a deep breath.

He knew this was the crucial moment.

Feilan had already paved the road for him.

Now, he had to take the final few steps himself.

He began to speak.

His voice was steady, his reasoning clear.

He began with the Bureau of Investigation's current state—

The predicaments caused by insufficient authority, the cases that had failed because of local obstruction, the agents who had died because they were not allowed to carry guns.

Then, his tone shifted as he began describing the future.

What should the Bureau of Investigation become?

It should not be a department that passively waited for cases, but an institution that took the initiative and struck first.

As an agency under the nation, it should not be an appendage that watched the faces of local governments, but a force with independent law-enforcement authority across the entire country.

He also spoke of the trend of interstate crime, the necessity of federal law enforcement in the future, and how a nation needed eyes and hands that could pierce through state borders and reach every corner.

He spoke in great detail, with clear structure.

Every point was supported by examples.

Every plan came with an explanation of its steps.

And at the center of it all, he deftly highlighted his own role.

It was not bragging, but a statement of fact, as though he were saying: This position was made for me. I am fully capable of leading the Bureau of Investigation to accomplish every task!

Feilan stood to one side and listened.

He had to admit that there was a reason Hoover would later wield power that scorched the heavens.

That eloquence, that logic, that precise grasp of his own role—any leader who heard him would think this man was useful.

"Not bad. It seems the Bureau of Investigation will have to be renamed the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

Roosevelt also showed his approval after listening.

"Thank you, Mr. President. I will not fail your trust."

Hoover was ecstatic inside.

From a local Bureau of Investigation to a national Federal Bureau of Investigation—though it was only two extra words, those words, "Federal," represented authority across the entire country!

Four o'clock in the afternoon.

Henry Stiegler, chairman of the House Committee on Banking and Currency, was urgently summoned to the White House.

This Democrat from Alabama had graying hair and a solemn face.

When he was led into the Oval Office, he still had no idea what had happened.

But when Feilan opened the briefcase and pushed those documents before him, his expression froze.

One page, two pages, three pages...

He read quickly, but the more he read, the heavier his expression became.

"Stiegler, do you think there is any difference between the behavior of these bankers and maggots?"

"These people have truly gone too far!"

"Then what do you think we should do?"

Stiegler did not immediately pick up the thread.

Because he had heard the implication in Roosevelt's words.

Any one of these pieces of dirt was enough to make a banker the target of a thousand pointing fingers.

If all of it were exposed—

All of Wall Street would be shaken to its foundations.

But if his committee was the one to expose it, then his committee would have to bear enormous pressure as well.

After thinking it over, Stiegler finally spoke with difficulty. "Mr. President, I think... this matter requires careful consideration. After all, the impact is simply too great..."

Roosevelt cut him off directly. "Stiegler, your committee's duty is to supervise these bankers. Now their vile conduct is laid out before your eyes. You cannot sit by and do nothing!"

Stiegler frowned.

He knew this matter was more than ten times trickier than the Emergency Banking Act. No matter what, he did not want to take on this job.

"Mr. President, this..."

He tried to evade it.

Roosevelt did not give him the chance.

Over the next dozen or so minutes, Stiegler experienced what it meant to be coaxed with a carrot and beaten with a stick.

Roosevelt first appealed to his emotions. The country needed to sweep away these maggots, or the next crisis would come roaring back, and when that happened, every one of them would be finished.

Then he reasoned with him. As chairman of the committee, he had the responsibility to investigate violations within the financial system. If he did nothing, what would the public think?

Finally came the threat. Roosevelt directly implied to Stiegler that if he truly was unwilling to do it, that proved he was occupying a corpse's seat while drawing a salary. Roosevelt could kick him out of the Banking Committee at any time, leave him as a congressman with no real power, and replace him with someone willing to do the job.

Under such immense pressure, Stiegler had no choice but to nod.

Roosevelt looked at him, his tone easing. "Very good, Stiegler. We need to discuss the details of the hearing carefully..."

Stiegler listened intently.

The core of this plan was two words: timing.

They could not expose all the dirt at once.

If they did, those Wall Street people would instantly form a powerful alliance of resistance in order to protect themselves.

Their lawyers, their media outlets, and their friends in Congress would all swarm out in force.

Therefore, they could only throw out one piece of bait first.

Bait that would enrage the public and set public opinion boiling, yet would not immediately put everyone on guard.

Then, once the hearing began, once public opinion fermented, once the public's eyes were fixed on Wall Street, they would cast out the remaining "bait" piece by piece.

By the time those people reacted and wanted to form an alliance—

It would already be too late.

Listening from one side, Feilan could not help admiring Roosevelt's arrangement. This was the political skill of a seasoned old hand.

"Understood, Mr. President."

That night, Stiegler gathered the committee members and held an all-night meeting.

The meeting room was thick with smoke, while arguments rose and fell without end.

Some were excited, some worried, and some remained silent.

But in the end, they reached a consensus:

This hearing had to be held, and it had to be done well.

They settled on the general process, then began looking for someone.

Someone who needed to be a legal adviser well versed in finance and banking law, someone who could stand at the very front of the hearing and clash head-on with those Wall Street tycoons.