Margaret Lowell? Again aristocratic old money from the New York-Palm Beach orbit, but with a twist that was virtually unheard of in those circles. She was a brilliant attorney who eschewed the rewards of estate and corporate law for the pursuit of advocacy. She worked feverishly in the legal vineyards on behalf of the oppressed, the dispossessed and the disenfranchised. Both theorist and practitioner, she was rumored to be the next woman on the Supreme Court. Or was the advocacy a supreme cover for the championship of opposite causes under cover?
Eric Sundstrom? The Wunderkind scientist of earth and space technology, holder of over twenty hugely remunerative patents on which the vast majority of proceeds were given away to engineering and medical institutions for the advancement of those sciences. His was a towering intellect concealed within a cherubic face with tousled red hair, an impish smile and a ready sense of humour—as if he were embarrassed by his gifts, even quick to feign mild offence if they were singled out. Or was it all pretence, the guilelessness a sham of someone nobody knew.
Gideon Logan? Perhaps the most complex of the quintet, and because he was a black man, again perhaps, understandable. He had made several fortunes in property, never forgetting where he came from, hiring and nursing along black firms in his developments. It was said that he quietly did more for civil rights than any single corporation in the country. The current administration, as well as its predecessor, had offered him a variety of Cabinet posts all of which he refused, believing he could achieve more as a respected independent force in the private sector than if he were identified with a political party and its practices. A nonstop worker, he apparently permitted himself only one indulgence: a luxurious oceanfront estate in the Bahamas where he spent infrequent weekends fishing on his forty-six-foot Bertram with his wife of twelve years. Or was the legend that was Gideon Logan incomplete? The answer was yes. Several years of his whirlwind, meteoric life were simply unknown; it was as if he had not existed.
'Milos?' asked Margaret Lowell, her elbow forward on the table, her head resting on the extended fingers of her hand. 'How in heaven's name has the administration managed to keep the threats against Bollinger quiet? Especially with a Bureau unit exclusively assigned to him.'
Strike Margaret Lowell? She was opening the obvious can of worms in which was found the Vice President's chief of staff.
'I must assume it's through the direction of Mrs. Vanvlanderen, her executive expertise, as it were.' Watch the eyes. The muscles of their faces—the jaws… Nothing. They reveal nothing! Yet one of them knows! Who?
'I realize she's Andrew Vanvlanderen's wife,' said Gideon Logan, 'and “Andy-boy”, as he's called, is one hell of a fund raiser, but why was she appointed to begin with?'
Strike Gideon Logan? He was stirring up the worms.
'Perhaps I can answer that,' replied Jacob Mandel. 'Before she married Vanvlanderen she was a headhunter's dream. She turned around two companies that I know of from bankruptcy into profitable mergers. I'm told she's distastefully aggressive, but no one can deny her managerial talents. She'd be good in that job; she'd keep the political sycophants at bay.'
Strike Jacob Mandel? He had no compunction about praising her.
'I ran across her once,' said Eric Sundstrom emphatically, 'and in plain words she was a bitch. I assigned a patent to Johns Hopkins Medical and she wanted to broker the damn thing.'
'What was there to broker?' asked the attorney Lowell.
'Absolutely nothing,' answered Sundstrom. 'She tried to convince me that such large grants required an overseer to make sure the money went where it was supposed to go and not for new jockstraps.'
'She probably had a point,' said the lawyer, nodding as if from experience.
'Not for me. Not the way she talked and the med school's president is a good friend of mine. She'd have driven him up the wall so often he would have returned the patent. She's a bitch, a real bitch.'
Strike Eric Sundstrom? He had no compunction whatsoever about damning her.
'I never met her,' interjected Samuel Winters, 'but she was married to Emory Frazier-Pyke, a fine-tuned banker in London. You remember Emory, don't you, Jacob?'
'Certainly. He played polo and you introduced me as a silent branch of the Rothschilds—which, unfortunately, I think he believed.'
'Someone told me,' continued Winters, 'that poor Frazier-Pyke lost a considerable amount of money in a venture she was associated with but came away with a wife. It was the OffShore Investments crowd.'
'Some fine-tuning he had,' added Mandel. 'Goniffs, every one of them. He should have checked with his polo ponies or even the silent Rothschild.'
'Perhaps he did. She didn't last long and old Emory has always been a stickler for the straight and narrow. She could have been a thief, too.'
Strike Samuel Winters? The traitor in Inver Brass would not raise the speculation.
'In one way or another,' commented Varak without emphasis, 'you are all at least aware of her then.'
‘I wasn't,' said Margaret Lowell, bordering on the defensive, 'but after hearing the others I can tell you who else knows her—“aware” is a touch too dull. My ex-husband, the alley cat; it was the Frazier-Pyke that did it.'
'Walter?' Sundstrom's voice and expression were both humorously questioning.
'My boy made so many business trips to London I thought he was advising the Crown, and he frequently mentioned that this Frazier-Pyke was his banker over there. Then one morning the maid phoned me at the office saying that Casanova had an urgent call from an “FP” in London, but she didn't know where he was. She gave me the number and I called saying to somebody—I assumed a secretary—that M. Lowell was on the line for “FP”. I was subsequently greeted by an exuberant voice virtually yelling at me, “Dahling, I'll be in New York tomorrow and we can have five full days together!” I said, “How nice” and hung up.'
'She travels in the right circles for her purposes,' said Gideon Logan, chuckling. 'Andy-boy Vanvlanderen will keep her in blue chips and sables until he gets bored.'
Varak had to change the subject quickly! If he was right about there being a traitor around the table, and he was right—whatever was said about Ardis Vanvlanderen would get back to her and he could not permit anything further. 'From everyone's reactions,' he said pleasantly, aimlessly, 'we can assume that there are some opportunists who are immensely capable. However, it's not important.' Watch them. Every face. 'She serves the Vice President well but that's essentially immaterial to us… Back to our candidate, everything proceeds on schedule. The Midwest newspapers, starting with Chicago, will be the first to speculate on his credentials, both in columns and editorials. They've all been provided with extensive background material on Kendrick as well as tapes of the Partridge Committee, the Foxley show, and his own quite remarkable press conference. From this core the word will spread both east and west.'
'How were they approached, Milos?' asked the spokesman, Samuel Winters. 'The newspapers and the columnists, I mean.'
'A legitimate ad hoc committee that we've formed in Denver. The seed, when planted, grew quickly. The Colorado branch of the party was enthusiastic, especially as the money was contributed by donors who insisted on remaining anonymous. The state functionaries see a potentially viable candidate and the wherewithal to launch him, as well as the attention it focuses on Colorado. Win or lose, they can't lose.
‘That “wherewithal” could be a legal problem,' said Margaret Lowell.
'Nothing significant, madam. It's provided in sequences, no amount over the legal limit as mandated by the election laws—which are quite obscure, if not mystifying, in my opinion.'