Cold Warrior: James Jesus Angleton - The CIA's Master Spyhunter.

• Author: Braden, Thomas

Cold Warrior: James Jesus Angleton-The CIA's Master Spyhunter. Tom Mangold. Simon & Schuster $22.95. There he was, suddenly, in the middle of a meeting in the director's office, unbidden, unannounced. A tall, dark-suited, stooped, and very lean man-a man who seemed to slide rather than walk. There would be a pause, and the director would say to the others present, "Would you mind clearing out of here for just a minute? I want to have a word with Jim."

The late James J. Angleton, chief of counterintelligence for the CIA, was much feared, partly because the only thing his eyes revealed behind those thick glasses was a contempt for most other men, and partly because Angleton knew things about those other men that were, if not necessarily damning, personal and private.

For example, I said to my wife one Sunday evening as we were getting into bed, "You know, it's cruel the way Bedell Smith [Director, CIA] treats Allen [Dulles, Deputy Director, CIA], and it's demeaning. Here's a fine mind and a highly respected lawyer being treated like an office boy." And then I mimicked Bedell Smith with a roar: "Dulles, God damn you, get in here!"

Next morning Allen Dulles, whom I revered, greeted me without the customary, businesslike nod. He leaned back in his chair and reached for his pipe, gesturing to me to sit down. "Jim tells me you think Bedell and I don't get along."

He then repeated word for word what I had said to my wife in our bedroom.

There was another reason why James Angleton was feared. He knew better than anybody who the mole might be: which of your secretaries, your agents abroad, your couriers, your friends and colleagues, your "covert contacts" had been touched or might have been touched by the KGB.

He knew more than that. He knew the Soviet plan for the ultimate submission of the United States. He had all those files in his office dating back to the early twenties. He pored over them day and night. Nobody else had access, which made it useless to argue with him. "You don't know. What if I told you that the Polish military attache in Belgium had breakfast last Wednesday with the Chinese ambassador?" He peered through his glasses, point proven. To argue with Angleton on even general topics-Russian intentions, Chinese intentions, Tito's defection-might make you suspect. So there was no argument.

Now, four years after Angleton's death, the myth lies shattered into a thousand pieces of nonsense, and the fear has gone with the myth. There was...