“Sounds like you’re ready for anything,” Stone said. “I’ll talk to Ann at dinner and ask her to phone 60 Minutes first thing in the morning.”
“That’s wonderful, Stone. Thank you, and please thank Ann for me, too. Now I’ve got to go and talk to Susannah — she’s writing a rough draft of what I’m going to say.”
“Ed, my advice, for what it’s worth, is don’t read from a script. You’re used to talking on your feet. Review your points and sell it like a closing argument.”
“That’s good advice, Stone, and I’ll take it.”
“And if you come to New York for interviews, I insist you and Susannah stay with me and, if you like, record interviews there.”
“That sounds perfect. I’ll keep you posted.” Eagle hung up as Ann entered the room. “That was Ed Eagle. He’s hired a publicist named Hal Henry, and he wants you to call your contact at 60 Minutes.” Stone told her about Ed’s plans to record interviews. “Can you call him first thing tomorrow morning?”
Ann looked at her watch. “He’s a late worker, I’ll try him now.” She sat down in the chair next to Stone’s and picked up the phone. Stone went to fix them a drink, and when he came back, she was just hanging up.
Stone handed her a drink. “How’d that go?”
“Amazingly well,” Ann said. “One of his producers has already had a call from a publicist in San Francisco named Hugh Gordon, shopping the piece.”
“Uh-oh.”
“But there’s a twist,” she said. “They’ve also had a call from an interviewer named Pam Hale, at an independent TV station in San Francisco, who has an interview with Barbara scheduled for tomorrow and an exclusive in her market. The twist is, she’s already researched Barbara’s background, and she plans to let her make her case, then hit her with some hard questions. She’s offered her raw footage to 60 Minutes, and they’re very interested.”
“That sounds good,” Stone said.
“They did a piece on Ed some years ago, about a trial he was conducting, and they like him. They’d like him to come to New York tomorrow and to be available for interviews.”
Stone picked up the phone, called Eagle, and told him about Ann’s conversation with 60 Minutes. “If you want to do it, we’ll pick you and Susannah up in Santa Fe at around eleven your time tomorrow morning and take you with us.”
“Hang on,” Ed said, then put him on hold. He came back a moment later. “We’re on,” he said. “Susannah has told the publicist, and she thinks he should come, too. Have you got room for him and an assistant on the airplane?”
“Plenty of room,” Stone said. “Have him meet us at Atlantic Aviation at Burbank tomorrow morning at ten, and I’ll be happy to put them up at my house.”
“He’ll be there,” Ed replied. “See you here tomorrow at eleven.”
“Bye.” Stone hung up, called Mike Freeman, and told him what was up. “Can you handle the four extra passengers, Mike? Dino and Viv left after the convention. If it’s a problem, please say so and I’ll charter something.”
“No problem at all, Stone. You always bring along such interesting people. I’ll see you at the airport, and I’ll let our pilot know to include Santa Fe in his flight planning.”
Stone hung up and called Joan Robertson. “It’s Stone. Sorry to call so late.”
“Hey, there. You still coming home tomorrow?”
“Yes, and I’m bringing four guests: Ed Eagle and his wife, Susannah Wilde, a publicist named Hal Henry and his assistant. Please have the second-floor suite freshened up for the Eagles and two rooms on the third floor for Henry and his assistant.”
“Will do. What time will you be in?”
Stone did some rough mental calculations with flight times and time zones. “We should be at the house between four and five. Send Fred and the Bentley for us and the Eagles, and another car and driver for the publicists.”
“I can do that.”
“And tell Helene we’ll be six or eight for dinner tomorrow night.”
“Right. Anything else?”
“I’ll call you from the airplane if I think of anything else.” Stone hung up. “I think we’re all set,” Stone said.
Ann looked at him. “I’m impressed with your organizing skills,” she said. “How would you like to work on Kate’s campaign full-time?”
“Thanks, but I still practice a little law now and then, and Woodman and Weld are wondering where the hell I’ve been for the past ten days.”
47
Stone, Ann, the publicist Hal Henry, and his assistant, who turned out to be a beautiful blonde of about twenty-five named Tina, took off from Burbank Airport a little after ten A.M. and were soon cleared direct to Santa Fe, with a detour over the Grand Canyon that Stone had requested.
As they approached the Canyon, Stone told everyone to raise their window blinds. The view from the G650’s big windows was spectacular.
“You know,” Ann said, “I’ve never seen it before. It’s so much bigger than I realized.”
“Yes. And if we hadn’t been doing six hundred knots over the ground with a tailwind, it would have seemed even bigger.”
The big jet set down at Santa Fe and, with its large tanks, didn’t need refueling. The pilot shut down the engine on the side of the airplane with the door and Ed, Suzannah, and their luggage were aboard in less than a minute while the copilot got their clearance for Teterboro. The pilot restarted the engine and they were wheels-up after a stop of less than fifteen minutes.
The stewardess served them a lunch of lobster salad with a Cakebread Chardonnay from California, and they were on the ground at Teterboro a little after four. Rush-hour traffic was heavy, but they were at Stone’s house at five-thirty, where Fred and the driver of the other car got their luggage into the house.
“Everybody freshen up and get some rest, if you like,” Stone said to his guests. “Drinks are at seven, with dinner to follow.”
“Dino called and asked if he could bring a couple of guests,” Joan said, as she gave Stone his messages. “I’ve alerted Helene.”
“Fine. Did he say who?”
“Nope.”
In San Francisco, Pam Hale welcomed Barbara Grosvenor and her publicist, Hugh Gordon, to her television studio.
“I’m so sorry you’ve had all this trouble with your former husband,” she said to Barbara, clasping her hand in both of her own.
“Thank you so much,” Barbara said.
“I hope that what we do here today will go a long way toward rectifying the situation.” She handed Gordon a sheet of paper. “Please look this over and have Barbara sign it,” Pam said.
Gordon scanned the sheet. “Minimum of half an hour,” he muttered, “nonstop. That okay, Barbara?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Wait a minute — no editing?”
“Oh, there’ll be editing for time, but that’s our professional responsibility,” Pam said smoothly. “And, of course, we own the copyright.”
“That’s fine with me, Hugh,” Barbara said. She took the document from him, signed it, and handed it back to Pam, who handed it to her producer. “Put that in your safe right now,” she said to him, sotto voce.
They had made up a set to resemble a corner of a living room, with a vase of plastic flowers on a table between two wing chairs. An assistant wired up Barbara, and Pam settled her guest into a chair and put a bottle of water and a glass on the table for her, while an assistant took Hugh Gordon into the Green Room, where he could watch a monitor. “All ready?” Pam asked. “Comfortable?”