The Frankenstein Candidate (28 page)

Olivia finally called Victor back. He was inflamed. Victor believed he was the party’s kingmaker, and he thought the election was there for the taking. Now the favorite had nose-dived following sexual revelations, some redneck mercenary group has poisoned another crowd pleaser, and the one he wanted to anoint had not been returning his calls.

Victor suggested meeting at his residence or hers. Olivia certainly didn’t want to have a furious and unstable Gary around. She knew the attack on Gary was off the agenda, much as she felt like interrogating Victor about it.

Victor’s place was a quaint, Victorian mansion in suburban Arlington. He was courteous at the door, inviting her to enjoy a Colombian coffee and Swiss chocolates in his expansive, immaculate garden. He let her compose herself, but they both knew why she was there. She had news for him, and he had some breaking news for her. Olivia went first.

“I am having marital problems.”

“At some stage, we all do.”

Olivia was taken aback—if she was expecting sympathy, she wasn’t getting any.

“Colin’s campaign is finished,” he said.

“You told me that before. I don’t know what you want from—”

“No, before was different. Colin…he…had a heart attack last evening.”

She stood up, hand to her mouth.

“No, sit down. He is all right. He is out of danger. He is at Sibley Memorial. There is no suspicion of wrongdoing—he had clogged arteries, they said.”

“Victor, you could have told me…”

“I was wondering when you would return the calls I left you. I only found out this morning anyway. The thing is…now even he accepts he can’t run anymore. That’s two strikes. He thought he could survive the scandal, I didn’t. Did you?”

“It is an unusual election in some ways.”

“Forget the diplomacy, so you didn’t either. But he is pulling out for health reasons, which looks better for him. He will announce this evening.”

“Is this really his decision?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does to me.”

“Ask him when you visit him. Ganon’s a wild card really, and we didn’t want him to run. Now we have no one unless…”

“I told you, I am having serious marital problems.”

“We will throw everything behind you, Olivia. Perhaps you don’t know just who is prepared to back you.”

“Who is?”

“The Obamas, the Kennedy clan, the Clintons…I mean everybody who matters. We have been talking. Larry has been in touch with them.”

“What about that woman?”

“Katrina Marshella, a.k.a. Ashley Bennett? No, we haven’t located her. She may have disappeared overseas. We may not have enough to bring charges against her unless we can prove she took money. You won’t get a confessional from her before November. Don’t worry, one day we will find her, wherever she is…Hawaii, the Caribbean…and we will make life wonderful for her.”

“I need time.”

“I would love to give it to you. But we are really suffering now. Colin will withdraw tonight to stop the scandal. Super Wednesday is only a few weeks away, and the Wednesday states are not prepared to delay it. The good news is that the economy could not be worse.”

“Victor!” Olivia was aghast.

“It’s the way things are, and you know it. Makes Kirby vulnerable. It’s so bad it can only get better from here on. Everything noble that you ever wanted to achieve, Olivia, this is your chance. This is your moment.”

“What about Frank Stein? Do we have a strategy for—”

“What about him? He is not one of us. But you could use him.”

Olivia looked at Victor quizzically.

“He is damaged goods. Severely damaged. He is seen as pro-business, anti-environment, a foreign policy isolationalist, and a Wall Street cowboy. Paint him as close as you can to Young and Kirby. He used to be friends with Kirby. We know he met Young a few times, we have photos of Wall Street parties…no,” Victor continued, concerned at the look she was giving him, “I mean you stay pure, we will do the rest. We have new ads I want you to see. Kirby’s old footage, which sounds like Stein talking…”

“They are completely different, Victor.”

“Anyway, that’s not the real issue. You knew you could be in for this in eight years, Olivia. Opportunity knocks but once, sometimes early. It’s what happened to Obama back in 2008 and to Kirby in 2016. Everyone thought they were making a move too early…”

“Give me forty-eight hours.”

“All right. But then I can no longer stop the super-delegates from swarming all over Sidney Ganon. You know what that means.”

“I do.”

She left the Howell residence. It wasn’t an easy choice—a shot at the presidency of the United States of America in its most turbulent phase or putting all her energies into saving her marriage.

There was a man she had to see. Dr. Rohan Joshy’s cell switched to his answering service. First though, she went to Sibley Memorial.

Colin Spain was in ICU, lying on his bed with several tubes attached to him. The attached ECG showed a steady heartbeat. He was in a private room, the lack of flowers and cards suggesting the news had not been made public yet. Olivia stuck some orchids in an empty vase.

“Even my wife hasn’t come to see me,” he said softly.

“Isn’t she in California?”

“Yeah. She is taking a flight back east tonight. With my daughter. No rush. It’s just daddy.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Not so bad. Yesterday, I thought I was going to die. I thought an elephant had its foot on my chest. I couldn’t move.”

“Who found you?”

“I called 911 myself. I will be here for a week at least. The doctors said I am lucky. It could have been fatal.”

She put her hand on his shoulder. Her touch was kind and warm. She knew he needed it.

“I was going to be the next president of the United States,” he said.

“That could still be the case.”

“Doc says it could kill me. The campaign itself. Gee, it has already claimed Casey.”

“I went to see Victor. It’s his idea, but if you—”

“I don’t mind, Olivia. In fact, I suggested it. I am being pushed, Olivia. After twenty-four years of a flawless record in the Senate, you think I would get a second chance. But no, one mistake and you are gone.”

“I am sorry.”

“You don’t need to be. It is your opportunity, your moment in the sun.”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You must take it. Even if you lose to Ganon or later to Kirby, which is unlikely, you can run again. You are only forty-four.”

“Are you sure you are okay with that?”

“That’s what makes you nice, Olivia. You asking me like it’s mine to give.”

“Well, you are the one who got me into the campaign.”

“And I would have hated it if you went behind my back. But I am out anyway. Use Larry. Call me anytime. I will campaign for you to the extent I can.”

She smiled at the irony of it all as it hit her—Olivia Allen, the imposter, the reluctant leader, the female George Washington—her mother would have loved it, but Olivia was leaning toward a no. Her hand was still on his left shoulder, now trapped by his right hand. Olivia waited till the next visitor, Colin’s half-brother, arrived in the lobby.

“Bye, Colin. I will let you know.”

“No, don’t call me if you decide not to run,” he wore a wry smile.

Having dinner with Gary that night, she knew she had to make the hard call.

“Will you stay, Gary?”

“For now, yes. I really don’t know long term. I am not the first gentleman type.”

“That’s what I was going to ask you.”

“It’s what you do, Olivia. It’s what you have done all your life. Don’t give up now. It will make no difference to us.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“If you sat at home, and I left anyway, you would kill yourself.”

“No, I would kill you,” she said. He laughed a nervous laugh.

“If it is going to work, it’s going to work with the way you being the way you are.”

“You are not going to see her then?”

Gary was silent.

“You can’t even promise me that?”

“I can. I won’t see her for a little while. That I promise.”

“How long for?”

“Until we decide what we are doing with us.”

For all his infidelities and insecurities, Gary was a refreshing change from the fake, double-talking politicians she always dealt with. She could not imagine being married to a politician. Her BlackBerry buzzed. The text from Dr. Joshy said he was able to see her the next day. She felt relieved.

Her BlackBerry buzzed again. She thought she was past the tears, but that was before she saw the text message. It said that Dan Curtis had been shot in Black Monday’s riots and that he was critical.

After yet another trip to a hospital, where unfortunately Olivia could not see Dan as he was still critical, she went to Dr. Joshy’s office. Dr. Rohan Joshy wasn’t the sort who could be a political confidante for Olivia. Nevertheless, she thought this was as much a personal as a political decision. In any event, she knew no one else in whom she could confide her marital problem, no one else whom she could trust more, and no one else who could be absolutely trusted to not inform anyone else, professional ethics aside.