The Willard (14 page)

“Is that your goal? To make a difference?”

Victoria looked confused. “Of course. Doesn’t everyone want to make a difference? I just think it’s time women had a chance to do more. Mother doesn’t think so. She says it’s unseemly, what they’re doing.”

“Your mother sounds like she has a lot of opinions.”

“You have no idea.”

“I’m sure she’s concerned for your safety.”

“She’s more concerned for my reputation, or rather, our family’s reputation. She’s afraid I will do something to bring shame on us all.”

“You don’t strike me as a young woman prone to shameful associations.”

Victoria looked pleased by Olivia’s compliment. Chase joined them and told Olivia he had arranged for her transportation to the headquarters.

“Edward, I’m pleased to introduce you to Victoria Webster. Victoria, this is Edward Chase, the hotel’s concierge.” Olivia spoke to Chase. “Ms. Webster is looking for a woman named Amelia Sutherland. Are you familiar with Ms. Sutherland?”

“Yes, in fact. She was here earlier and had to leave for a meeting at the very office you are planning to visit. She asked me to pass along her apologies to Ms. Webster, but I would venture to say that if the two of you would like to ride together you could likely catch Ms. Sutherland at the office.”

Victoria looked excited. She turned to Olivia.

“I hope that wouldn’t be an imposition, Mrs. Fordham.”

“Not at all, dear. It’s a splendid idea.”

“And one of great economy as well,” Victoria added.

What a strange thing to say. This child has likely never had to concern herself with issues of economy. There is indeed more to her than meets the eye
.

“It’s settled then. We’ll be off at once,” Olivia said.

“Oh, I almost forgot! My bags are by the door. I have a reservation here for the next several nights,” Victoria said to Chase.

“I’ll take care of your bags and have your room key for you when you return,” Chase said.

Victoria was on her feet, practically bouncing with excitement. “Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Chase. And thank you, Mrs. Fordham. Mother would be so pleased to learn that I’ve made such providential acquaintances my first hours in town,” she gushed.

Providential indeed
, Olivia thought.

Together they climbed into the waiting car and headed for F Street.

C
HAPTER 27

CATHERINE PARKER

1865

Mr. Chase had a hot bath prepared for Catherine and after a good long soak and a change of clothes she went down to the lobby to meet the carriage that would take her to a late dinner with Laura Keene. They settled into a quiet corner table at a restaurant a few blocks from the Willard. Catherine noticed Laura was still wearing her stage makeup from her dress rehearsal.

“I’m so pleased to see you’re feeling better, Ms. Parker,” Laura said to the younger woman.

“Please, call me Catherine.”

“Of course. And you must call me Laura.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you before, Laura. I had a long trip from Ohio and I believe I was just terribly overtired. Of course I know who you are and I’m embarrassed to say I’m a bit star struck to be sitting here with you,” Catherine told her. The star struck part was the truth. She’d never met a famous actress before.

“Nonsense. There is no reason to be awed by a woman of the stage, Catherine. After all, we spend our lives pretending to be someone else. I’ve never understood why that fascinates people so much really,” Laura answered.

Catherine had an immediate thought.
Probably because pretending to be someone or something you’re not is freaking hard
.

“How do you do it?” Catherine asked. “How do you stand up there and act out scenes when you already know the ending of the play? For example, you are all innocent and tentative about love at the beginning of the play, but you know your paramour is going to die in the final scene. How do you play the happy parts knowing the sad is coming?”

Laura thought about it for a minute. “I guess I’ve never considered it that way. When I play a character I do my best to really
become
that person in the moment. At the beginning of the play, if my character is falling in love she’s at that point and has no idea of the tragedy to come. I don’t focus on the tragedy until the character gets to it. That way I can keep my reactions as genuine as possible. I suppose you could say I start the character’s journey over every time the curtain goes up.”

Catherine was quiet as they ate the tender roast beef and potatoes the waiter had brought. She seemed to be deep in thought, but made all the right responses as Laura kept up the small talk. Laura noticed the silence.

“Are you still tired, my dear? Would you like to go back to the hotel?”

“I’m sorry, Laura. My mind is preoccupied with something I have to do. I didn’t mean to be rude. I have a lot on my mind,” Catherine apologized.

“It’s no problem. I’m ready to head back myself. I have a few costume adjustments to attend to and a short afternoon rehearsal tomorrow. Would you like to meet for dinner again tomorrow evening?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I might stop by and watch your rehearsal. I’ve never seen anything like that,” Catherine wondered if her request was out of line. Big stars are particular about people watching them rehearse. At least that’s what she’d heard on TMZ.

“I would love for you to join me. It gets so tedious and I would be happy to give you a tour of the theatre and have you sit
in the wings for the rehearsal. And while you’re here this week I welcome you to be my guest for Friday’s performance. Rehearsals are fine, but you really must see the full show with sets and costumes. This show is quite humorous and the light fare will give you a chance to get your mind off serious things for a few hours,” Laura said.

Oh, Laura, you have no idea how serious this is
.

“Thank you for the kind invitation. I accept.”

I’m in
, Catherine thought.
Now what?

C
HAPTER 28

TOM KELLY

1962

Tom cleared security again at the White House gate and found himself waiting outside an unknown meeting room on a lower floor. He had a feeling it was the fabled Situation Room, but nothing about it looked like he expected when he was finally admitted. A quick look around the table confirmed that he was part of something at the highest levels. Seated around the table was the famous “ExComm,” the executive committee Kennedy had pulled together to deal with the crisis. Over the next few hours Tom learned firsthand what was happening and some of it differed from the textbook versions he remembered.

About a week before, reconnaissance photos had revealed construction of offensive missile sites on the island nation of Cuba. Information that had come in since then showed the sites had been under construction for several months. While the history books claim the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. were equal in their nuclear capabilities, what that really means is that they had enough between them to blow up the world so there wasn’t much point counting beyond that. Where they weren’t equal was in delivery methods. The U.S. could fire long-range missiles into the homeland of mother Russia, but the Soviet missiles were only capable of shorter-range deployment, making them a threat to Europe, but not to the continental U.S. The Soviets needed a closer geographic location where their
limited flight capability could target American soil and they got that by exploiting the fears of one impressionable Cuban dictator. Fidel Castro’s men had repelled the Bay of Pigs invasion, but he feared a new and more successful invasion by American forces. To add to his own security, he approved the Soviet plan to put missiles in his country and, just like that, the Soviets had their launch pad for North American destruction.

In his address to the nation last night, President Kennedy had announced a naval blockade of Cuba aimed at preventing the Soviets from landing more parts and supplies that could make their sites operational. The scariest thing Tom learned was that Soviet field commanders in Cuba had been given authority to use their battlefield nuclear devices in case of invasion. All it would take was one Rambo-esque commander feeling like he was in the crosshairs of the U.S. military and this tinderbox would be lit. Tom couldn’t help thinking about the fog of war and how easily a mistake in judgment could be made. He shivered in his chair, which did not go unnoticed by the military brass in the room. The commanders reported that U2 planes were currently conducting low-level recon flights over the sites every two hours. Analysts were pouring over thousands of frames of film, checking for any change in the readiness of each location. The group in the room with Tom was now on day eight with little sleep and the literal weight of the world on their shoulders. Tensions fluctuated between high and extremely high and tempers were short. Only the two Kennedys seemed to fly above the fray like kings watching their gladiators fight for supremacy. They were listening to every point and carefully evaluating the arguments for and against every proposal. One man in the room would be the ultimate authority and he held tight to his brother’s counsel. These two would watch and listen and, when the time came, they would act. Tom was impressed by the questions they asked when they did interject. The questions were thoughtful and complex. It was clear these two
men were imagining changing scenarios and they challenged their team to think beyond step one and step two to steps ten, and eighteen, and twenty-five. What will happen if we do this? What if we do that instead? The elephant in the room, the one who could not be questioned, was the Soviet Union itself and its recalcitrant leader, Nikita Khrushchev.

On the wall, a giant map of the behemoth nation held sway over the room, its sheer size and the unfortunate shade of red that had been used in printing causing it to feel like a sinister monster, the color of blood. All the mystery of the land behind the iron curtain only served to increase the ominous presence felt anytime it was mentioned. Tom knew why they called it cold war now. The very sight of the red map in this environment chilled him to the bone.

One poor general had been tasked with providing potential casualty reports. It was clear right away that his job was a bit like explaining how many grains of sand there are on the earth. It doesn’t matter if the estimate is wrong because there’s really nobody in the world who can count them anyway.

“For all practical purposes, Mr. President, it will get everyone. Millions in the initial strike, millions more from radiation exposure over time, the rest from sickness, starvation. From suicide.” He paused, and then continued. “There might be some left, sir, but the government will be gone as will the food supply and all infrastructure. Those remaining won’t be in the Middle Ages. They’ll be in the Dark Ages.”

Tom sat stunned.
And there will be no one left to count them
.

The marathon session broke for a quick meal. Sandwiches were brought in from the White House mess and the
group separated into smaller groups at the president’s request. A man with round glasses approached Tom and extended his hand.

“I’m McGeorge Bundy. I’m the one who sent for you. Don’t worry about it if you get some flack from McCone. He took over the agency a few months ago and has a different opinion of the Soviet threat than official reports that were issued before he got there. They underestimated the possibility this could happen, but he didn’t. He’s a sharp guy. I think when he sees what you have to offer he’ll be ready to work with you.” He motioned for Tom to follow him. “The president would like to see you in the Oval in ten minutes. Walk with me upstairs and I’ll park you in a conference room. Someone will come for you when we’re ready,” he said.

Tom followed the man up the stairs, recognizing that McGeorge Bundy was the president’s National Security Adviser. He wasn’t positive but he thought “McCone” was John McCone, head of the CIA.

I’ll bet he’s not happy I’m here. I doubt if the CIA is accustomed to getting advice on covert communications from a Hollywood reject
.

Bundy deposited Tom in a room as promised and Tom pulled out a sheet of paper and started making a list of all the people from the meeting.

President Kennedy

Bobby Kennedy, Attorney General

McGeorge Bundy, National Security Adviser

John McCone, Director of CIA

Dean Rusk, Secretary of State

C. Douglas Dillon, Secretary of the Treasury

Robert McNamara, Secretary of Defense

General Maxwell D. Taylor, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Assorted deputies and under-secretaries

Vice President Lyndon B. Johnson

The last one was a surprise, not because he was there but because he was fairly quiet. Everything Tom had ever heard about the bombastic vice president and later president from Texas had prepared him for a loud, bossy, expletive-spewing man, but Johnson had kept his tongue in the meetings. He participated, but he didn’t try and take over. Whatever his feelings about the president, he knew better than to overstep in this situation.