Cut and Thrust (8 page)

E
verybody stood, and Will Lee shook every hand before sitting down.

“We weren’t expecting you,” Kate said to her husband.

“I wasn’t coming,” Will replied, “then I thought to myself, why should my wife have all the fun?” He ordered a bourbon and sat down, facing the convention floor. “I hope this is better than the football game on TV,” he said.

“You must have had the press all over you downstairs,” Ann said.

“No, I left the motorcade a couple of blocks up the street and arrived downstairs in a single SUV. Nobody twigged.”

“Look,” Ed Eagle said, pointing at a TV on the wall. They all turned and saw a shot of a single black SUV turning into the Staples Center underground parking lot. Ed switched on the sound as Chris Matthews was saying, “We’re told that was a shot of the president arriving at the convention. But there was no motorcade, and he hasn’t been seen on the floor or backstage. I’m betting he’s watching from a skybox.” Ed switched off the sound.

“So much for my security arrangements,” Will said. “If anybody calls, tell ’em I’m in some other skybox.”

Mike Freeman entered the suite, shook hands with the president, and asked for a glass of orange juice.

“Have you made your rounds, Mike?” Stone asked.

“I have and all is well. Anyway, nobody would want to kill anybody who’s spoken so far. I did hear a rumor that a couple of VIPs sneaked past the press into a skybox.”

“Don’t believe a word of it,” Will said. He found the remote control and turned on the sound from the floor, plus a TV.

A documentary film began, honoring the recently deceased Senator Eleanor Stockman, and the crowd listened respectfully for five minutes, then applauded warmly.

“Here comes Dick Collins and his speech,” Will said.

“And here comes the young governor of California,” Chris Matthews was saying. “Eight years from now, he’ll be a likely candidate for president. His first two years in office have been a spectacular success.”

Dick and Cara Collins spent a couple of minutes waving at the crowd and making eye contact here and there, then finally Cara kissed him and left the platform. Then the podium and the glass shield rose from the floor.

“It worked!” Mike said. “As late as this morning we weren’t sure it would.”

“This is something new at a convention,” Matthews was saying. “That wall of non-glare glass is said to protect against bullets, bombs, and maybe even Republicans. Also, a little inside info: you can’t see it from the audience but the teleprompter is projected onto the inside of the glass wall so the speaker will appear to be speaking without reading it.”

Collins began to speak. “Good evening, and welcome to the great state of California!” The crowd went suitably wild, then calmed down. “Word has reached me that a Californian is seeking your nomination.” Big laugh. “I have not come here to endorse him.” He waited a beat. “Nor to bury him.” Another laugh. Then Collins got serious and began to speak of the challenges facing the country. He finished ten minutes later with a few short sentences. “I’m told that the current president of the United States is watching tonight. On television, of course. I want to say that this country is in the best shape it has been in for many years. Probably since World War Two. And Will Lee is the man we can thank for that!” The crowd went nuts, the band played, and Cara Collins appeared, took the governor by the hand, and led him off the stage.

“Well, that was mercifully short,” Will said. “I think we can thank Bill Clinton for the brevity. And what he said about me was nice.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t true,” his wife said. “If I get this office, I’ll do my best not to screw up your legacy.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him.

A waiter materialized. “Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served.” They all got up and went to the table, where place cards seated Will and Kate at opposite ends of the table. The noise from the floor was turned off and the music restored.

A waiter brought a tray containing a large roast duck. He presented it, then two other waiters began to bring out plates of duck and vegetables. Stone was given the wine to taste and approve.

A cell phone was heard to buzz, and Ann left the table and went into the hallway. She came back a moment later and went to Kate. “Martin Stanton is on the phone for you. He wants a meeting.”

“Not now,” Kate said. “At our cottage at The Arrington.” She looked at her watch. “At ten o’clock.”

Ann left the room and came back a moment later. She nodded to Kate. “Done.”

“Well,
that
’
s
going to be an interesting conversation,” Will said. “Who knows, maybe some history will get made.”

A
nn Keaton sat in the backseat of the SUV with Kate Lee as they approached The Arrington. Stone sat silently in a jump seat.

“What do you think Marty wants?” Kate asked Ann.

“I think he wants secretary of state,” Ann said.

Kate turned and looked at her. “You think he’s going to offer to drop out if I give him State?”

“It’s my best guess,” Ann said. “In those circumstances, would you give it to him?”

Kate emitted a low laugh.

—

KATE WENT INTO
the library of the presidential cottage and looked around. There were two chairs near the fireplace and a fire had been laid. She pushed the chairs closer to the fireplace and each other, then, using a long match, lit the fire. She pulled a drinks cart closer to the chairs, then looked at her work. Fine. She heard the doorbell ring and looked at her watch. “Right on time,” she murmured to herself. She opened her purse, took out a small dictating device, reset it, and pressed the record button. Then she stuck it into the outer breast pocket of her suit jacket and turned to face the door.

A butler opened the door. “The vice president, Madame Director,” he said.

Martin Stanton swept into the room, his hand outstretched. “Kate, how are you? It’s been too long.”

Kate took it and allowed him a peck on her cheek. “Last month isn’t so long ago,” Kate said. “Have a seat, Marty. Can I get you a cognac?”

“Yes, thank you.” Stanton went and stood in front of a chair but did not sit down until she had poured the drinks, handed him a glass, and sat down herself. I can’t fault his manners, Kate thought.

“I want to have a serious talk with you, Kate,” Stanton said. “We’re coming into this convention with me in the lead and you trailing everybody else.”

“I watch the news, too, Marty,” she said, keeping any reproof from her voice. “And what I’m hearing is that you’re short of the votes you need for the nomination.”

“I’m here to tell you—all that has changed,” Marty said. “The California delegation is solid for me, and I’ve heard only this evening from nineteen delegates from other states who will switch their votes to me.”

“On which ballot, Marty?” Kate asked, trying to sound really curious.

“Why, the first ballot, of course. I know you’ve been counting on a second ballot, with all the delegates free to change their votes to you, but that simply isn’t going to happen.”

“You may be right,” Kate said, “but on the other hand—”

“There is no other hand, Kate. I now have the nomination in my pocket.”

“Is that what you came to tell me?”

“Not entirely,” Stanton said. “I’ve come to ask you to be my secretary of state.”

“That’s awfully generous of you, Marty.”

“You’re perfectly suited for it. I’ve always thought of director of Central Intelligence as a foreign policy post.”

“So have I,” she replied.

“There’s nobody in the party who can lay a glove on you for qualifications.”

“I appreciate the compliment. And what do
you
want, Marty?”

“Me?” As if the thought of a quid pro quo had never occurred to him.

“There must be something.”

“Well, I think it would be very good for the party and the country if you nominated me tomorrow night. It would bring us together better than anything I can think of.”

“And whom were you thinking of for your running mate?”

“I think the senior senator from Pennsylvania,” Stanton said. “With Pete Otero, we’d have two westerners as running mates. I think an easterner would be better for the ticket.”

That, Kate thought, is the worst possible ticket I can think of. “I’m sure your reasoning is sound, Marty.”

“And with you in the wings, waiting to take over at State, well, that would be like having another running mate.”

“You’d announce me for State before the general election?”

“I don’t think that would be presumptuous, given your stature.”

“Did you consider a woman as a running mate?” she asked coyly.

Stanton took a sip of his drink. “If you’ll forgive my saying so, Kate,” he said, “I think that perhaps since the country has had a Lee in office for eight years, it might be a bit of an overdose to have you as number two for another eight.”

“Did it ever occur to you that they might not have had enough of the Lees?”

“They love you both, Kate, but they’re not addicted. You have to be realistic.”

Kate smiled but said nothing.

“What about it, Kate? Will you come with us?”

“Marty, I will make you a pledge right now.”

“And what is that?”

“I will support the nominee of my party.”

Stanton set his glass down on the little table next to his chair. “Well, I’m disappointed that you won’t accept, Kate, but I’ll give you until noon tomorrow to think about it. Talk it over with Will.”

“Oh, I’ll do that,” Kate said. She waited for him to stand, then she did, too. She held out her hand. “Thank you for coming to see me, Marty,” she said.

“Good night, Kate. I hope to hear from you tomorrow.”

“You will, Marty.” She watched him go, closing the door behind him. She heard the outside door close and a car door slam, then she switched off her pocket recorder, picked up the phone, and pressed a button. “Come on in,” she said.

The door opened and Ann and Stone entered the room.

“Pull up another chair, Stone,” she said, “and pour us all another cognac, will you, please?”

Stone carried out his instructions and sat down.

Nobody said anything for a moment.

“Well?” Ann asked, unable to contain herself.

“
He
offered
me
State,” she said.

Ann laughed out loud. “The arrogant son of a bitch!”

“He says he wants ‘the senior senator from Pennsylvania’ for a running mate.”

“The worst possible combination,” Ann said.

“Funny, I thought exactly the same thing.”

“Did he say anything else of import?”

“I believe he did,” Kate said, “though it wasn’t his intent to say it.”

“What?”

Kate smiled. “He doesn’t have the votes to win on the first ballot.”

S
tone and Ann walked back to his house together. “Kate takes my breath away,” he said.

“Mine, too,” Ann replied.

“Do you think she’s right about Stanton not having the votes to win on the first ballot?”

“Kate doesn’t make pronouncements that aren’t hedged in some way—‘in my opinion,’ ‘it’s my guess that . . .’ et cetera.”

“But she just did.”

“She did, didn’t she?”

“She must feel very certain, then.”

“She must, mustn’t she?”

“But you aren’t?”

“I honestly don’t know. I’ve just rarely heard her make flat-footed statements like that.”

“Does she know something you don’t know?”

“Sam Meriwether is in charge of counting delegates,” Ann said. “He hasn’t shared anything like that with me.”

“I’ll tell you something,” Stone said, “I’ve never had more fun in my life than watching all this happen.”

“Maybe you should run for office, Stone.”

“Ha! And give up life as I know it?”

Ann laughed. “Life as you know it is pretty good, isn’t it?”

“It’s spectacular! Being on the inside of the action and having you in my bed every night is almost more than I can stand.”

Ann laughed again. “It’s almost more than I can stand, too.”

“What are you going to do if Kate wins?”

“Just between you and me?”

“Of course.”

“I’m going to be the next White House chief of staff.”

“Kate has offered you that?”

“She has, and I’ve accepted.”

“What is that going to do to your life?”

“It will destroy my life as I know it,” Ann said. “I’ll be constantly on call—twenty-four/seven—I won’t get much sleep. And I won’t have a social life that doesn’t involve a White House dinner.”

“That doesn’t sound very good for you and me,” Stone said.

“No, it doesn’t—you’re going to have to give me up if Kate is president.”

“Entirely?”

“Oh, we can have an occasional dinner and roll in the hay, in D.C. or New York. But for every four dates we make, I’ll have to break three. Something will come up.”

“I don’t like the sound of that much.”

“I don’t like it much, either,” Ann said, “but it’s how it will be. I’ll have a chance to make a difference for this country, and I’ll give up everything else to do that.”

“I can’t blame you, Ann.”

“Thank you.”

“What will you do if Kate loses?” he asked.

“I’ll move to New York, apply for a job with Woodman and Weld, and sleep with you every night. If you’ll have me.”

“No doubt about that.”

“You’re sweet.”

“I’m greedy.”

“It’s one of the things I like best about you,” she said. “Let’s go be greedy right now.”

And they did.

—

HALF A MILE
down Stone Canyon, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Grosvenor were undressing after dinner.

“How did you think our lunch went?” Charles asked his wife.

“I thought it went very well.”

“Do you think Barrington recognized you?”

“I know he didn’t,” she said. “I’ve always been good at makeovers.”

“You certainly have—and I love the gray hair.”

“I thought of affecting a British accent, but that might have been a little much. After all, there are people in L.A. who know who Barbara Eagle Grosvenor is.”

“What if Barrington mentions our lunch to Ed Eagle? He knows my name.”

“He won’t have any reason to mention it, since he hasn’t figured it out.”

“And you’re going to use Barrington to get at Eagle?”

“Ideally, yes. Don’t worry, I won’t get caught. I’ll get away with it, I always have.”

“You have that gift,” Charles said. “And what will you do if you can’t get at Eagle?”

Barbara smiled a little smile. “Then I’ll destroy someone close to him.”

“Barrington?”

“Perhaps. It would cut Ed to the bone, and that’s been my pleasure for a long time.”

“Whatever you want, my sweet.”

“I want you to come over here and fuck me,” she said, stretching out on the bed.

“It’s what I do best, isn’t it?” he asked, joining her.

“It certainly is, my darling.”