Vanishing Act by a Popular Spook

Bobby Inman leaves the CIA, claiming the reasons are personal

Members of Congress serving on committees that keep an eye on the CIA have long faced a tricky challenge. Short of employing truth serum or lie detectors, how can they know when officials of an agency trained in the art of deception are dissembling? One such CIA watcher on the House Intelligence Committee swears he discovered an infallible method.

Whenever CIA Director William Casey was testifying in secret meetings, the Congressman watched the feet of Casey's deputy, Admiral Bobby Inman. If the admiral shuffled his feet or reached down to pull up his socks, the Congressman concluded that Inman knew that his boss was shading the facts. Sure enough, when questioned, the admiral would delicately correct the director.

If Inman's telltale fidgeting was sub conscious rather than intentional, it was one of his few professional imperfections. In Washington's atmosphere of political intrigue, most high CIA officials develop more enemies than friends. But when the White House last week announced Inman's impending retirement from both the CIA and the Navy, the praise for the four-star admiral was downright gushy. Democratic Congressman Edward P. Boland, chairman of the House Intelligence Committee, called Inman "the nation's finest professional intelligence officer." Democratic Senator Joseph Biden even called Inman "the single most competent man in the Federal Government."

Inman's bipartisan popularity stems largely from his straight talk and incisive mind. His virtually photographic memory and workaholic habits pushed him to the top of a career in military intelligence: director of Naval Intelligence from 1974 to 1976; vice director of the Defense Intelligence Agency, 1976 to 1977; director of the National Security Agency, 1977 to 1981.

As head of the NSA, a supersecret agency that uses satellites, sophisticated monitoring techniques and more employees (more than 20,000) than the CIA (some 16,000) to gather intelligence information, Inman developed considerable rapport with congressional committees. When President Reagan was looking for a CIA chief in late 1980, Inman was pushed hard by diverse Capitol Hill backers, most notably Republican Senator Barry Goldwater. Instead, Reagan picked Casey, who had been his campaign director. A bit reluctantly, Inman left NSA to become Casey's deputy. Reagan talked him into it, he said, with "the smoothest job of arm twisting I've ever encountered."

Why was Inman, 51, now leaving the CIA? The admiral told TIME that he felt he had accomplished what he had set out to do at the agency: "Get a road map created for a long-range rebuilding program all across the whole intelligence community." Having done that, he insisted, he was stepping down to build a second career in private business, earn enough money (he now gets $59,500) to put two teen-age sons through college, and spend more time with his family. Admitting that his career had involved "wretched work habits and hours," Inman said his eldest son had asked last Christmas: "Where's the quality of life in all this?" That, said Inman, was "a thoughtful question."