The Man Who Mumbled

By Stefan Kanfer

CASEY by Joseph E. Persico; Viking; 601 pages; $24.95

Late in 1986, a member of the National Security Council was showing his guest around the White House. They paused before the painting of a group of dogs. That, said Lieut. Colonel Oliver North, was the President's Cabinet; "the one who's sleeping is Bill Casey."

So much for Ollie's vaunted respect for superiors. But he was not alone. Almost everyone held William Casey at arm's length in those days. A major scandal had just surfaced: in a covert arms-for-hostages deal, the Great Satan had sold weapons to its enemy, Iran. Profits had been diverted to the Nicaraguan contras. Casey, director of the Central Intelligence Agency, would be summoned to testify about what he knew and when he knew it.

Who was this gruff, mumbling figure of authority and mystery? No one could be certain. The President himself confessed, "I didn't understand him at meetings . . . I'd just nod my head, but I didn't know what he was actually saying." Joseph Persico has better hearing than Ronald Reagan, and a keener eye for biographical detail.

The Casey family expected William to rise higher than his father, an employee of the New York City sanitation department. But no one expected Junior to escalate so rapidly. With the help of the Jesuits, he discovered his social conscience at Fordham University, then buried it when he decided to go for the big money. A former associate testified that Casey "never saw an ethical dimension to business. Is it illegal? If not, then you can do it."

For several years the postgraduate hacked out financial guides. According to his proud calculations, they earned him more royalties than Hemingway. He had a "good war" from 1943 to 1945, operating along a shadow line in the Office of Strategic Services. After V-J day it was business as usual. By the '70s, shrewd venture capitalism and self-promotion had made him a multimillionaire. ; They had also made him an important contributor to the G.O.P. treasury and strategy. When Reagan assumed office he offered Casey, his campaign manager, the CIA job. "If it wasn't for you," said the President, "I wouldn't be in this hot seat." The remark was more ominous than either of them knew.

But in the end, both of them were beyond the reach of infamy. The 74-year- old Casey died of a brain tumor just before he was to face the Iran-contra committee. Presidential aide Michael Deaver wrote that the director thus became "the logical candidate to be fingered as the evil genius behind Iran- contra. The secrets would be buried with him. And the President would be protected."

According to Bob Woodward's best seller Veil, Casey made a deathbed confession. He became involved with Iranscam because "I believed." But after a series of discussions with the director's colleagues, Persico doubts the authenticity of the hospital interview.

In any event, this portrait offers more than enough evidence to indict Casey on charges of illegal activity. Persico's portrait sympathizes with those who practice the difficult craft of intelligence. He presents his subject as a family man of voracious intellect and unflagging loyalty. Nevertheless, he believes that even if North was the mastermind behind Iranscam, "Casey did advocate the Iran-arms deal, and enthusiastically. He willingly connived in excluding Congress from knowledge of it . . . That is guilt enough." After Casey's funeral, one of his friends recalled that "Bill believed in the American flag, the Catholic Church, and nothing else." History might have been altered if he had broadened his faith just a little, to include the Constitution.