Matt recovered first, his drawl emphasized by his enthusiasm. “I think it’s worth checking out. I wish I’d thought of it myself. ‘Two for the price of one.’ I like it. Of course, we need to run some television spots that will promote the concept and test the waters, and we’ll have to educate the voters as to Carolyn’s qualifications. But so far, the polls have shown that Carolyn’s popularity has made an impressive impact on the campaign.”
Carolyn drew in a deep breath. She quickly lowered her gaze to hide her relief.
The room erupted into a buzz of activity. Matt and Ernie began brainstorming. Nick rapidly took notes.
Warner stood abruptly, knocking his chair over. Everyone fell silent. He glared at Carolyn, then stalked out of the room.
THIRTY-NINE
Warner felt as if the walls were closing in around him. He needed a breath of air to clear his head. He and the other members of the Council had not anticipated this. What had started out as Carolyn’s backstage act was turning into the headliner. Granted, he’d known that her confidence would grow with her belief that she controlled the campaign. While that strategy made for a great cover for the Council, he’d be damned if his dream was going to turn into her triumph.
He made his way up the steps of the basement and out onto the back lawn, shivering when the cold air hit him The chill felt good. He needed to think. Richard had obtained Governor Hick’s endorsement, and for that favor he expected to be the vice presidential candidate. This was a mess.
It would be so much easier if Edmund could be in the campaign meetings, Warner thought, but Carolyn despised the old man.
Of course, Edmund didn’t like the situation anymore than Warner did, but they didn’t have a choice. He needed Edmund’s brilliance when it came to maneuvering Carolyn and her ideas. Ideas, Warner believed, that could cost him the presidency.
Carolyn had no knowledge of the Council, and she never would as long as Edmund remained behind the scenes.
They needed Carolyn as a decoy, and even though her ego was growing immensely, their plans were jelling nicely.
But if Carolyn found out that Warner was even communicating with the old man, there’d be hell to pay. The kind of hell that left a man permanently burned.
FORTY
Jack slammed the phone into the receiver. The son of a bitch didn’t have the balls to confront him face-to-face. He’d mailed the letter, then gone on vacation. Typical Pat Mead, Jack thought, deliver the news then hideout until things calmed down. He re-read the notice he’d received via FedEx from his office.
Mr. Rudly:
Your story on Senator Lane’s military history was substandard. You are hereby warned to verify your sources more carefully. You’ll be expected at the National Convention, until then your assignment is to report on the campaign, not investigate personal issues. Management expects you to write a personal apology to the Senator. This notice shall serve as a warning. When you’re back in town we can discuss this further.
Signed,
Pat Mead
Special Projects Editor
“Verify sources more carefully,” Jack mumbled. “Substandard?” What the fuck did that mean? Never before in his journalistic career had anyone ever questioned his reporting methods, let alone reprimanded him for inaccurate information.
Jack prided himself on being precise, and he knew his article was accurate. He’d verified all of his sources, and had authentic medical records as evidence. The facts obviously didn’t matter. Jack realized; he’d stepped on powerful toes. But he didn’t give a damn.
Jack crumpled the paper, and tossed it into the garbage can. Like hell, he’d write an apology.
He’d done nothing wrong.
Jack had been smarting for weeks from Mead’s chastisement as he stood with other members of the press in the back alley of a large red brick auditorium waiting for Candidate Lane to exit after a speech to the teacher’s union. He glanced over at a colleague. “Hey, Dan, how the hell are ya?”
“Fine, and you?”
Jack lit a cigarette, exhaling as he spoke. “I’d be better with some dinner and a beer right now.”
“I hear ya.” Dan was an old-timer in the business.
“What do you think about the candidates?”
“Same shit, different mouth.” Dan joked, “but personally I like what Lane has to say. What about you?”
Jack shrugged. “Keeping an open mind. There’re a lot of questions I’d like to see answered, but his campaign staff isn’t very forthcoming.”
“They’re just being cautious. Give him a break. He’s new to the national scene. Missouri’s small potatoes compared to the market he’s jumped into now. I mean, you have to admit, we’re a tough crowd.”
“Are we? I’m not so sure, anymore. I can’t believe how easy these guys have been on Lane.” Jack took a drag on his cigarette. He wasn’t prone to arguments, but damn, the lack of curiosity his colleagues were showing was frustrating.
“I don’t think anyone has been easy on him.”
“What about the sweatshop thing? That was dropped like a pregnant debutante.”
“Maybe the press is getting a conscience. It could be argued that journalists are trying to be more objective and not ruin people’s careers just to sell a few newspapers or boost ratings. Look at the Kennedy days. The press kept his personal business quiet and it was probably better for the country.”
“I don’t buy it. If that were true, we wouldn’t have jobs. What’s with the double standard? Suddenly the press has a conscience? Bullshit!”
“Come on, Jack, you’re ignoring the facts. Warner Lane didn’t own that company, his father did.”
“My take is different. Maybe the elite media only has a conscience when it comes to politicians with ideals they agree with.” Jack tossed his unfinished cigarette onto the pavement.
“I can’t believe you don’t like the guy. He’s one of us. He’s a product of the sixties, just like we are. He stands for the same things we do and his wife is a powerhouse. She’ll be more than a pretty figurehead. I believe she may actually make a dent in the drug problem. Shit, she already has.” Dan smacked his fist into his palm “Their concerns are right on target.”
Jack shook his head. “Listen to yourself. ‘He’s one of us.’ That’s exactly the type of group think that destroys the veracity of the media. No wonder the public feels they get the same perspective from every news organization.” This wasn’t about liking or disliking Warner Lane. It was about manipulating the system and biased reporting “You know, I keep getting the same response when it comes to my esteemed colleagues.”
“Maybe that means something,” Dan commented.
“Yeah, like a lot of crack reporters have gotten caught up in all the Lane hype and forgotten their jobs.”
“I call it listening to the man’s message.”
“I call it bullshit.” Jack watched Dan walk away.
He’d tried to maintain an open mind, but maybe his father’s theories of graft had prejudiced him. Jack had known of the Lane family for years, and rumors of trading political favors for profit had always circulated about Edmund and Warner. The implications in his father’s files were unsavory, yet none of them could be proven. Still, the documents haunted him. And he couldn’t ignore his own experience of being reprimanded for revealing Warner’s military career. Someone had applied pressure to shut him down.
Jack leaned against the cool brick of the auditorium. Was he being a hard ass? No, the facts were apparent. At the very least, Warner was being protected and Jack wanted to know by whom.