She smiled at him when he sat down. “Just like old times.” She pushed a bowl of popcorn across the table.
He grabbed a handful and stuffed his mouth, mumbling. “Sure is, Mizz President. How’s your mother doin’?”
“Much better, thank you. It was a minor attack and she’s very strong.”
Shaw gulped and took the plunge. “If you want, I can call in a few markers, find out where that photo came from, and crunch a few heads.”
She shook her head. “Only as a last resort.” He poured himself a glass of Jack Daniel’s and for a few moments, they were in a time warp, back in Sacramento when she was a confused, lonely, and very junior state senator struggling to find her way. But an alarm kept buzzing in his head, warning him that things had changed. “Patrick, what went wrong with Matt?”
The alarm turned into a blaring Klaxon. Matt Pontowski was the one subject he did not want to discuss. “Geography, most likely. You know these flyboys. Out of sight, out of mind.”
The old intimacy was back as they mulled over the day’s events and gossiped about the personalities who bracketed their lives. “Speaking of Poland,” Maddy said, “did you hear the latest?”
“About the attack? Sure did. Looks like the Poles can take care of themselves.”
“Thanks to Bob Bender. His security-aid program gave the Poles the edge they needed in dealing with the Russians. But that’s only half the problem.”
Shaw sensed they had come to the reason for the meeting. “You got me. What’s the other half?”
“The Germans. They’re systematically buying up the western half of Poland and the Poles are going to end up as tenant workers in their own land. The Germans have got to stop.”
“That’s going to make for some sour Krauts.”
Turner ignored the pun. “Please, this is serious.”
“Sounds to me like a poker game between Germany and Russia with Poland as the pot. Is it winner take all?”
“I don’t think so. Mazie is predicting a fifth partition.” She fixed him with a look he hadn’t seen before. “I won’t have it. Not on my watch. The problem is that I don’t have any counters to put on the table.”
Shaw took a long pull at his drink. “It’s a shame you don’t play poker, Mizz President.”
“I played strip poker with my husband. I won. Stripped him bare every time.”
“Why am I not surprised? In poker you learn to bluff. Maybe it’s time to find out how good the Germans are at poker.”
“You mean bluffing.”
“Actually, I’m wondering how willing they are to call a bluff. There’s a big difference.”
“Patrick! Pay attention. What do I put on the table?”
“Something that will cause their sphincter muscles to slam shut.”
“Such as?” She listened to his answer, surprised at its blatant transparency. “That will never work.”
“Won’t it? Pick the right players and it will.” He gave her a wicked grin. “Talk to Herbert von Lubeck. He fancies himself a poker player.”
“You’ve played with him.”
“Yes, Ma’am. Stripped him clean.”
“Why am I not surprised?” She paused, sipping at her root beer. “Patrick, there’s something else.” He tensed, waiting for the ax to fall. “When do I announce for reelection?”
His heart slowed and he smiled broadly. “Good question, Mizz President.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Maddy Turner paused and gazed out the window of her bedroom. April was still a week away but the morning carried a hint of an early spring and, for a brief moment, she wanted to escape the White House, the cares and pressures, and most of all, the Imperial City itself. As quickly, the feeling was gone. This was her time and place. This was what she wanted.
Out of long habit, she glanced in a mirror. But it was only a cursory inspection to check her hair and makeup. She didn’t really see the person looking back at her. She walked into the dining room for breakfast where Maura joined her, wearing a brightly colored robe. “That’s new,” Maddy said.
“We were out shopping yesterday and Sarah picked it out.”
Maddy looked worried. “You’ve got to be careful and not strain…”
Maura interrupted her. “The exercise is good for me.”
The door opened and Sarah came through, wearing a tight little miniskirt and revealing top. The two women looked at her without a word as she sat down. “Well?” Sarah challenged.
Maddy sighed. “Well, what?”
Sarah didn’t answer and ate in silence while Maddy and Maura discussed the day’s schedule. When they were done, Maura touched Sarah’s arm. “Maybe it’s time to think about makeup and accessories. We’ve got time before school.” Sarah beamed at her. “I’ll get my bag. No, meet me in my bedroom.” The girl bolted for the door. Maura heaved herself to her feet. “I’ll talk her into changing.”
“Thanks, Mother.”
“She’s definitely discovered boys.”
“So soon?”
Maura gave a little snort. “As I recall, you were the same age.”
Madeline Turner was a well-studied subject in the White House and, like most of her staff, Mazie took her cue from the office the president was using. If she was in the Oval Office, any meeting would be short, formal, and very businesslike. If Turner was in her private study off the Oval Office, the atmosphere would be relaxed and chatty. “The president is in her private study this morning,” Turner’s private secretary announced when Mazie appeared for her scheduled 8:30 meeting. Mazie thanked her and walked in.
“Please, sit down,” Turner said.
Long experience had taught the national security advisor the chair closest to the president was the most comfortable. “I received a phone call a few moments ago,” Mazie said. “Nelson Durant passed away. Congestive heart failure.” Turner gave a little nod. She hadn’t heard but her staff would automatically issue the proper condolences and statements to the press. Mazie handed her a folder. “He sent this yesterday afternoon with his apologies for not delivering it in person. I believe it was one of the last things he did.”
Turner opened the folder and read Durant’s summary of his investigation into the photograph. Mazie caught the slight working of her jaw but said nothing. Turner’s eyes turned glassy hard. “That bastard. So it was Leland.”
“Actually, it was Senator Leland’s chief of staff. It’s safe to assume Leland knew about it.”
“That’s not even an assumption. No staff member would do this on his own.”
“Not unless he was suicidal,” Mazie added.
“So where did Leland get the photo?”
“That, Mr. Durant did not discover. Unless the right someone starts talking, we’ll never know.”
Turner was out of her seat, pacing back and forth, clearly very angry. “Damn him! Damn him to hell! I’ve tried to be accommodating and this is what I get in return. Dealing with that man is like falling in a snake pit. No matter what you do, you’re going to get bitten.”
“Keep him busy protecting his backside and he won’t be a problem.” Mazie’s words were an echo of Noreen Coker. Turner sat down and leaned back in her chair. Now she was ready to listen. “Shaw has it right,” Mazie continued. “When you’re losing, leak. Point the media at Leland.”
“Who and how much?”
“That’s the tricky part,” Mazie conceded.
“I need to think about it.” Turner leaned forward, indicating a change in subject. “I want you to tell the Germans to cease and desist in Poland.”