Ryder shrugged. “I haven’t had all that much time to talk with people, but my immediate sense is that of confusion. Everybody’s wondering just how the hell did the President manage to get captured at sea when everybody says we rule the waves? I have heard a couple of voices say that we might be better off with new leadership and that a new leader might replace General Miles.”
Benteen grinned wickedly. “I’ll forget you said that.”
“Much appreciated. Otherwise, I have the feeling that the men will survive quite nicely without President Custer and that they’d like to get this war over. Do you think the Spanish will want to work out an exchange for him?”
Benteen guffawed. “Exchange him for what? We won’t have to do that. I’ve got this feeling that the Spaniards will throw him back after putting up with him for a few months.”
* * *
Juana kissed her good friend Mercedes de Milan on her heavily rouged cheeks. The older woman gave her a warm hug in return. “How are things with your lover in my little cottage?” the sixty year old widow asked.
“Amazingly well, thank you. I have never known such happiness. I almost don’t know what to do about it.”
“Then enjoy yourself as I have enjoyed all of my lovers.”
“And how many have there been, dear Mercedes?”
She waved her hand. “Too many to count and I’ve enjoyed them all, including the one lover I have now. I will not name him because you might be shocked.”
“You don’t fear discovery?”
“I used to of course, but not much anymore. I am a widow and I can pretty much do what I want. You, on the other hand, are married to a man who, while a fool and a brute, might be a dangerous fool and an even more dangerous brute. But don’t let danger hold you back. Even if you cuckold your husband, the worst he can do is beat you and divorce you and then you would be free. I am also protected by my bodyguards who are very loyal. You’ve met my chief guard, haven’t you?”
Juana smiled and nodded. Hector Rojas was a giant of a man who worshipped Mercedes. Rumors said that Rojas had killed many times in his life. She wondered if Hector ever shared Mercedes bed.
Mercedes reached over and handed Juana a cigarillo. The two women enjoyed a few puffs of the expensive tobacco before Mercedes continued. “Danger makes love affairs even more splendid. I remember one time when I was seated on a raised wooden bench in a stadium watching some dismal musical performance in a very dark night. I was about to doze off when I felt the light pressure of someone caressing my inner calf.”
Juana laughed, “Oh my.”
“Oh my, indeed. I truly didn’t know what to do as his hand delicately slid its way up my calf to my thigh and then to that wonderful soft spot that men love so much. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out as he gently and exquisitely manipulated me and totally aroused me. A couple of times I groaned and my aunt looked at me curiously. I gestured that I was having some trouble with my stomach and she let it go. The erotic game lasted quite some time and, finally, I felt him slide one of my garters down. And then he disappeared. At least I hoped the bold rogue was a he.”
Juana was almost convulsing with laughter. “Well was it a he?”
“Yes,” said Mercedes, smiling at the memory. “The next day a handsome young man I didn’t know came to me with a package. It contained my garter and he cheerfully admitted to both fondling me and removing it. I rewarded him by taking him into my boudoir and insisting that he put it on my leg, but not until that was all I was wearing.”
“How wonderful.”
“Not really. It turned out that he was much more facile with his hands than with any other part of his body. But it was an exciting few weeks until I grew tired of him. That was some years ago and the poor dear is back in Spain and doubtless growing fat. But hearing me talk is not why you came to see me, is it? What do you and your American lover want that I can provide?”
“He would like access to Custer for the purpose of doing an interview. I’ve known that your current lover is Mr. Dunfield, the British Consul. and since President Custer will soon be ensconced at Mr. Dunfield’s villa, James and I thought it could be something that you would be able to arrange.”
Mercedes was mildly surprised that her secret was no secret at all. She laughed again, “Why not?”
* * *
“Well, am I now the President of the United States or not?”
The question came from Chester A. Arthur, the stocky fifty-three year old Vice President of the United States. According to the constitution, he was the man next in line for the presidency on the death of the president. The question he asked was one that no one was quite ready to answer. While the death of a president was covered and understood, the question of a president being incapacitated because he was a prisoner of war was not. Presidential incapacity for various reasons had caused confusion in the past and was doing so now.
“My husband is still alive and as long as he breathes, he is the president,” Libbie Custer practically snarled.
The others in the president’s office simply looked away at the outburst. Arthur, however, was not deterred.
“Madam, as much as I sympathize with your predicament, I must remind you that you have no official position in this matter or, for that matter, at this meeting. You are here as a courtesy. I must also remind you that the government of the United States must continue to run, and that is why we have met here today. The idea of President Custer being shackled in Havana is repugnant, but it is occurring and we can do nothing about it. Your husband may be helpless but we must not be. We haven’t that luxury.”
A tear trickled down Libbie Custer’s cheek. Word had reached them that photographs of President Custer, in chains and in a cell, had made it to Key West and were on their way north. That they would appear in newspapers throughout the world was understood. Custer’s shame had become America’s shame.
“I do wonder just how he managed to get himself captured,” said Arthur. “There are so many conflicting stories.”
“And all of them are irrelevant to the situation,” said Secretary of State Blaine. “Congress can investigate to its heart’s content when this war is over and crucify those responsible, but, as you said, Mr. Arthur, we have a country and a war to run.”
“What about getting my husband back?” Libbie stood and practically shrieked.
“I’m sorry,” said Blaine as she sat down, “but we’ve heard nothing from the Spanish regarding a reasonable price to pay for him. All we’ve heard are rumors which would involve our leaving Cuba and signing a treaty in which we would promise never to invade again. We would also agree to pay Spain an enormous money indemnity. I must add that we have no leverage whatsoever.”
“And that can never happen,” added Arthur. “It would be a humiliation almost too great for our nation and our party to bear, which is why we must decide just who is running the country in Custer’s absence and continue on with the war. I have taken the liberty of checking with Chief Justice Fuller and he is of the opinion that the Constitution does not really cover this sort of exigency. He does feel that naming an acting president for the duration of the emergency would be appropriate. And obviously, that acting president would be me.”
Libbie Custer was shaking and again on the verge of hysterics. “You would take away his office?”
Blaine was getting annoyed. “Madam, he isn’t here and he isn’t likely to return anytime soon. And I must again remind you that you are here as a courtesy. You hold no office, either elected or appointed. If you keep this up, I can assure you that we will meet without you and outside of the White House.”
Blaine was further annoyed by the fact that Custer’s foolishness might have propelled Chester Arthur into the White House, and not just as an acting president. He had been hoping that Custer’s incompetence would lead to his not being re-nominated by the Republican Party in the next election. In that case, he, James G. Blaine, would be honored if they turned to him as their candidate. If Arthur was to turn Custer’s mess into something resembling a victory for him, he would be a formidable force and might just take that nomination away from him. Blaine could only seethe and plot. Nor could he change the fact that, as vice president or acting president, Chester A. Arthur was in charge.