In the front hall I met Prince Charming, here to pick up his fairy godmother, to be made ready for the ball.
“How was the interview?” Eric asked.
“You can see it tonight.”
“We’ll be at dinner.”
“You’re in charge of recording it,” I said. “We’ll watch it when we get back.”
“Okay.” Eric was now officially interested in politics, particularly the personal connections he was about to make. “So what are you going to talk about tonight?”
“I want Big Bob to know who’s in charge, and that it’s not him.”
“It’s you?”
“In my opinion, yes.”
He smiled. “All right.”
I saw big thoughts bouncing around inside his head, possibly knocking other things off shelves or breaking furniture. “I’ve thought of what Rule 94 was supposed to be. Whenever I actually tell you the truth about something, don’t ever tell it to anyone else.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
He left on his mission. So what were we going to talk about tonight? I played the senator’s comments through my mind, back and forth, and the more I did, the more riled I got. It wasn’t the ends, of trying to gain control over his own destiny, but his means. To sternly advise me to keep out of politics, when it was Boyer power that put him on his pedestal in the first place-that was unnecessary roughness.
My instinct was to pulverize him. Bright had been practice, but not a challenge. This would be the real thing.
And from where had this instinct sprung? It was pure Melvin, although the old man wouldn’t have been hasty. But he’d built the edifice stone by stone. I was trying to keep it from falling over, and I couldn’t be cautious. I had to maintain my nasty attitude. I called Fred.
“I’m trying to get in the mood for our dinner with the senator,” I said. “I was going to get a flyswatter but I can’t find any flies.”
“Tonight you’ll be in a beehive. Be careful what you swat.”
“Tell me specifically how Forrester could sting me.”
“Just because he has no organization doesn’t mean he can’t build one. He has money and friends with money. Clinton Grainger is gone but there are other organizers who could put the governor’s organization back together for someone else. Forrester couldn’t match your machine in just three years, but he could become competitive.”
“I don’t think he has the personality.”
“A good campaign staff can compensate for that, somewhat. And do you have a better personality?”
“Slightly. And I have unions and lots of employees. You don’t need personality when you sign paychecks.”
“He has his office as senator. He can continue to attack your youth and inexperience, and the media will broadcast his message. Stan Morton can downplay it, but he’ll still have to report what a senator is saying. He can’t ignore it.”
“Okay. But I can get my message out just as well.”
“That is true, but this is not the time. Take care of the state government first. It will take all your attention to hold it together.”
“I still have to do something tonight.”
“Negotiate. Neither of you wants a battle.”
Might as well just say it. “Both of us want that Senate seat.” There, I’d said it.
“Then this is what you should do. First, blackmail Forrester into resigning. Second, bribe Bright to appoint you to the vacant seat. But do it quickly, before he goes to prison. Third, have a new birth certificate forged to add two years onto your age. As an alternative to the third step, you could have the Constitution amended to lower the minimum age for senators.” He was highly exasperated. “Or you could just wait a little while.”
“Where do I get the forged birth certificate?” I said.
“When you are in prison for the bribery and blackmail, I’m sure you will make many new friends who can help you with that. Perhaps you can share a cell with the governor, and he can introduce you.”
“I’ll be patient, Fred.”
“Good. That may be the first intelligent thing you’ve said.”
“It took a lot of effort.”
“But now you will need to be rational for an entire evening.”
“I won’t promise, Fred. The senator was a little too pointed yesterday evening. He deserves a jab.”
“I agree. By all means, jab him. Aim first, do it prudently, and don’t complain when he jabs back. Then get on with business.”
“We’ll see.”
I took the afternoon off from being powerful and was simply rich.
For the first time, I wandered the acres outside to see what I owned. I socialized with the groundskeepers. Two of the gardeners were from Melvin’s estate and the third was new. We talked landscaping, and I requested a half-mile path suitable for running.
I sat in the kitchen with Rosita and she fixed me an ice-cream sundae. She was so happy with her new domain. She might go to school somewhere, to learn how to use it all properly. And she didn’t mind at all that we had maids now! The maids were also family veterans, so grateful to be with us.
I found my office and locked the door. I’d spent lots of words already today, and I didn’t want to run out before tonight. This would be time to think.
I checked the stock market for the first time since Wednesday. The scandals and uncertain future had pushed the share prices down some, but not as much as I’d assumed in my forecast spreadsheets. I’d meet with George Elias on Monday to check cash flow for the next six months, but I knew it would be good through the end of the year at least. Even Katie couldn’t spend it all.
The governor was taking care of himself. I couldn’t improve on that whole situation, and the television interview would ice the cake. He was no threat at all now, with Clinton Grainger gone, except for his wild screaming. That would hurt him more than it hurt me.
Katie was happy and busy, as long as I supplied cash. She was only doing what she needed to. New house, new… everything. It would calm down. It would have to.
I was having lots of quality big brother time with Eric, so he was good for a week or two, as long as Madeleine and Genevieve didn’t get predatory tonight.
So, tonight. Senator Forrester was the next item to deal with. According to Fred, Bob was only staking positions, readying for a deal. My agenda was to negotiate. No ultimatums-no tantrums; just pretend I could act like an adult. That’s what I was always telling Eric to do. He was proof that it was not easy.
Anything else? Of course, that irritating murderer. What about that? Commissioner DeAngelo had made it plain he was no longer a lackey of the governor, so the politics of the investigation weren’t against me. DeAngelo might even want to get in good with the winning side.
Hopefully they’d catch the miscreant. At the moment, it wasn’t my main concern.
I took the picture frame from Melvin’s bedroom out of my desk and stared at the pictures for a while. There is such promise, and hope, in pictures of long-ago youth. Promises unkept.
I took a risk. Even though my previous conversations with Nathan had backfired, I still wanted to hear his opinion on the senator.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your Saturday afternoon,” I said.
“No, Jason, that’s fine. I’m just reviewing some position papers. What can I do for you?”
“I’m talking to Bob Forrester this evening, and I’m not looking forward to it. You know him, don’t you?”
“Of course. He’s occasionally helped with foundation programs when we needed federal involvement. I suppose you’ll have quite a few other things to discuss. He’ll have a great interest in the recent political affairs.”
“That’s the main reason we’re meeting.” What did Nathan know about Melvin and Big Bob? “I’d like to know your impression of him.”
“Well, well. I’ve known Bob Forrester for quite some time, from school days, in fact. He was years ahead of me, but he took me in hand as a newcomer and was very kind. We’ve kept up with each other since, at least slightly. He was at the conference I attended last weekend in Washington, though we didn’t cross paths. So… my impression is that he would be quite above anything improper-and that’s more than just an impression. I feel quite certain of it.”