Mounting Fears (6 page)

“I’m sorry.”

That’s enough punishment for the man, Will thought. “I’ll get together with my staff, and we’ll figure out when to make the announcement.”

“I’ll need to know that, so that I can inform Betty beforehand.”

“Of course. It’s not a time to make her angry.” Will paused and took a sip of his drink. “Now there’s the other question.”

“The answer is no,” Stanton said. “There’s no other woman.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Will said. “Does Betty have another man?” Stanton looked surprised at the question. “Of course not. Betty’s not given to that sort of thing.”

“Are you sure about that, Marty? How much time have you and Betty spent together lately?”

“More than you might think, in the circumstances. We still sleep in the same bed, or at least we did until now.”

“Then I’ll take your word for it, Marty. But I don’t want any more surprises. If there’s anything else you want to tell me, now is the time.”

Stanton shook his head vigorously. “No. There’s nothing else.”

Will polished off his drink and stood up. “Good, then I’m off to bed.”

“I, too,” Stanton said.

The two men shook hands and went to their respective bedrooms.

Will found Kate in bed reading a novel. He sat down on the bed and shucked off his shoes. “All these years, and I don’t know how you do that,” he said.

“Do what?”

“Go from a nuclear crisis to a novel in a heartbeat.”

“It keeps me sane to be able to live in a book for an hour.” She turned the page.

“And you can read while talking to me,” Will said.

“In my novel, you’re not the president.”

“Maybe I won’t be on January twentieth, either,” he said.

“Fat chance,” she replied, turning another page.

10

WILL CONVENED A MEETING WITH KITTY CONROY, HIS CAMPAIGN MANAGER SAM Meriwether, his chief of staff Tim Coleman, his political consultant Tom Black, and Moss Mallet, his pollster. He began by telling them of his conversation with Martin Stanton.

The reaction was, at first, a thoughtful silence. Finally, Tom Black spoke. “This is going to come out,” he said. “Perhaps during the campaign, perhaps sooner.”

“Only Marty and his wife and the people in this room know about it,” Will said.

“Marty and his wife and his mistress,” Tom said.

“There was no mention of a mistress,” Will said.

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have one, or that his wife doesn’t have another man, or both.”

“Kitty,” Will said, “see that the FBI adds those questions to their questionnaire and the background check.”

“Yes, sir,” Kitty replied, making a note.

“Whatever there is, it’s going to come out,” Black repeated, “even if only God knows. Even He would mention it to
somebody
.”

“What do you suggest we do?” Will asked.

“One of two things: either find yourself another running mate, or announce it soon, while we can still control it.”

“I’m convinced Marty is the best choice,” Will said, “even with a pending divorce.”

Moss Mallet spoke up. “You all know Governor Stanton has a Mexican mother. That’s going to help us in California and the Southwest and in Florida, too, and that is a very great deal of help. Your immigration policy has cost you some Hispanic support, Mr. President, but no Republican is going to have even a part-Hispanic running mate. We have to capitalize on that.”

Will nodded. “Sam?”

“Keep him, but get the news out.”

“Tim?”

“Stick with him,” Tim replied.

“Kitty, are you on board?”

“I’m scared, but I’m on board,” she replied.

“So be it,” Tom Black said. “Are you going to appoint him vice president soon?”

“Yes,” Will said.

“Then I think he should bring it up in his opening statement at the Senate confirmation hearings.”

“That will grab all the headlines,” Tim Coleman said.

“For a day,” Tom replied. “Then we’ll have it out in the open and out of the way.”

“It will get more play than that in California,” Coleman pointed out.

“Nothing we can do about that,” Sam said, “and California is where we can most afford the coverage. Stanton was reelected with nearly seventy percent of the vote.”

“Tim,” Will said, “you work on the opening statement with Marty’s people. Don’t finish the statement with the announcement—put it somewhere in the middle. In the meantime, nobody in this room is authorized to tell any other person, living or dead, about this, and don’t mention it in your prayers; you never know who’s listening. What’s next?”

Black spoke up. “Henry King Jackson.” Jackson was the African-American mayor of Atlanta who had left the Democratic Party and had been elected as an independent. A large, handsome man with a voice to match, he had become the most prominent national spokesman for black Americans.

“What about Henry?” Will asked.

“I’m hearing rumors that he’s considering launching a third-party candidacy,” Black said.

“How substantial are the rumors?” Will asked.

“Not very, but they’re from fairly inside sources.”

“I know him about as well as any white guy,” Sam said, “and I don’t think he’ll do it. He’ll use the threat to get something from Will, but in the end, he won’t run.”

There were murmurs of agreement from the others.

“We have to have a plan to deal with him, anyway,” Black said, “just in case he does.”

Will turned to Kitty. “What can we offer him? Something in the new cabinet?”

Kitty shrugged. “King Henry has a pretty high opinion of himself. It would have to be something bigger than HUD. You want to make him secretary of state?”

Will smiled and shook his head.

Sam spoke up. “Why don’t you make him an ambassador-at-large to Africa?”

“Too grandiose a title and not substantive enough,” Will said. “The man is not stupid. How about assistant secretary of state for African affairs?”

“That’s a career diplomat’s post,” Kitty said. “Still, if he had a top-notch State Department officer at his side and in his hair, it might work. And it would keep him out of the country a lot, and that’s a plus.”

“Are you going to keep Tom Rodgers on at State?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” Will said, “and he’s already said he’ll stay on.”

“You’d better feel him out about it before you talk to Henry,” Kitty said. “I’m not sure how he’ll react.”

Will smiled. “Neither am I.”

“Henry’s going to be in D.C. for an NAACP conference pretty soon,” Sam said.

“Maybe I’ll invite him to lunch,” Will replied.

“No witnesses,” Kitty cautioned. “None of his people, anyway.”

“You’re a cynic, Kitty. If Tom Rodgers buys into this, maybe I should have him there. It would lend weight to the offer.”

Kitty nodded and made a note.

“Moss,” Will said, “how are we looking in the polls this week?”

“You’ve got a fifty-eight percent approval rating nationwide—up a point. Your ratings on foreign affairs and defense remain at that level, too. Forty-seven percent on immigration, which is more than I expected.”

“How about against the Republican candidate?”

“Tell me who he or she will be, and I’ll tell you,” Moss said, laughing. “There’s a close, three-way contest among the opposition party. But, you’re ahead of them all by at least ten points.”

“So things aren’t bad, then?”

“They’re better than not bad, they’re very good.”

“Have you done any polling on a possible Henry Jackson run?”

“I’ve thought it better to let sleeping dogs lie, but I haven’t seen anything from the papers or the networks that gives him more than eight percent. Of course, most of those would be black folks who would otherwise be voting for you.”

“Would he take any votes at all from a Republican?”

“Maybe a few black Republicans, but not anybody else. Jackson could only matter in a tight race.”

“Still,” Will said, “I’d rather have him in Africa than on the campaign trail.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Kitty asked.

“Henry is a smart guy,” Will said. “Let’s not underestimate him.”

“I hope he’s smart enough to take the African job,” Kitty said.

11

ROBERT KINNEY, DIRECTOR OF THE FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION, LOOKED across the desk at Assistant Director Kerry Smith, the youngest AD every to hold that office. Kerry looked back at him expectantly.

“Kerry, you’ve been supervising the background check on Governor Martin Stanton, haven’t you?”

“Yes, Director, but just oversight, not direct participation.”

“There’s an interview with the governor scheduled this afternoon.”

“That’s correct, Director.”

“I want you to conduct it personally.”

Smith’s eyebrows went up.

“Don’t question, just do.”

“I take it this interview is of a special nature to the White House?”

“This
appointment
is of a special nature, Kerry. We’ve got a dead vice president, not even in the ground yet, and an appointment of a new one by the president on the fly in the middle of a nuclear event halfway around the world. There’ve been a lot of distractions for the president. He’s ordinarily a careful man by nature, but I don’t want him to miss something that’s going to rise up and bite him on the ass later, like in the confirmation hearings in the Senate.”

“Then he’s going to appoint Stanton vice president to serve out Kiel’s term?”

“You have to ask?”

“No, sir. Is there anything in particular that should be brought into this interview, apart from the draft of the information you’ve already seen?”

“Yes, two things: First, the governor has told the president that he and his wife are divorcing quite soon and that she will not be participating in the campaign.”

“And the president is keeping him as his running mate? Wow.”

“They intend for Stanton to announce this during his opening statement to the Senate Judiciary Committee. They figure it will blow over quickly.”

“That seems like a good plan,” Smith said.

“It’s a good plan, if the governor has told them everything. It’s my experience that no one ever tells anyone, let alone a Senate committee,
everything
about the circumstances of a pending divorce.”

“I agree.”

“What I want you to find out is
everything
, or at least everything the governor is willing to tell anybody.”

“What methods do you wish me to employ to secure this information, Director?”

“I want you to
ask
him.”

Smith blinked. “Oh.”

“And then I want you to check out everything he says and, in addition, everything he
doesn’t
say. I want you to do it fast, and I want you to do it good, because when I report to the president that his candidate is squeaky clean or, at least, highly unlikely to get caught doing anything that isn’t squeaky clean, I want to be telling my president the truth. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Director.” Smith held up a folder. “I have his questionnaire, and there are some points in there that I will raise with him. Ah, you said there were two things you wanted me to raise with the governor. What was the other one?”

“I want you to ask him where he was born. That is,
exactly
where he was born.”

“Exactly?”

“Get a street address, if you can.”

“May I ask the relevance of this information, Director?”

“Not yet.”

Smith flipped through the pages of his file on Stanton and came up with a sheet of paper. “His birth certificate says he was born at San Diego Women’s Hospital, in California. Isn’t that good enough?”

“Look just under the hospital name, Kerry. What does it say?”

Smith looked at the information. “It says ‘in transit.’”

“I want you to find out exactly what that means.”

“I expect it means in an ambulance, on the way to the hospital.”

“I can tell you the governor wasn’t born in an ambulance, and what the birth certificate doesn’t tell us is where his mother was in transit
from
.”

Smith shook his head. “I’m sorry, Director, but you’re going to have to tell me what you’re talking about, because I’m not getting it.”