‘No doubt you remember what Eisenhower said when he was asked about your standard-bearer?’ Florentyna teased.
‘Something unflattering, I’m sure.’
‘ “During your administration,” a journalist asked him, “in which major decisions has Vice President Nixon participated?” ’
‘And what was Ike’s reply?’ inquired Richard.
‘ “If you give me a week, I might think of one.” ’
During the remaining weeks of the campaign, Florentyna spent what free time she had addressing envelopes and answering phone calls at the party’s headquarters in San Francisco. Unlike the past two elections, she was convinced the Democrats had found a man in whom she could place unreserved support. The final television debate between the candidates re-awakened in her the political ambitions so nearly buried by Henry Osborne. Kennedy’s charisma and political insight were dazzling, and Florentyna was left to wonder how anyone who had followed the campaign could possibly vote Republican. Richard pointed out to her that charisma and good looks were not to be traded for a future policy and a proven record, even if it had to include a five o’clock shadow.
All through election night Richard and Florentyna sat up watching the results. The twists, the turns and the upsets lasted all the way to California, where by the smallest margin in American electoral history Kennedy became President. Florentyna was ecstatic about the final outcome, while Richard maintained that Kennedy would never have made it without Mayor Daley and the Cook County ballot boxes — or lack of them.
‘Would you vote the Democratic ticket if I were running for office?’
‘It would depend on your policies. I’m a banker, not a sentimentalist.’
‘Well, unsentimental banker, I want to open another store.’
‘What?’ said Richard.
‘There’s a bargain going in San Diego, a building with a lease of only two years to run, but it could be renewable.’
‘How much?’
‘Thirty thousand dollars.’
‘You’re mad, Jessie. That’s your projected profits for this year gone in expansion.’
‘And while you’re on the subject of expansion, I’m pregnant again.’
When the thirty-fifth President delivered his inaugural address Florentyna and Richard watched the ceremony on television in the apartment above the main shop.
‘Let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans, born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace...’ Florentyna’s eyes never once left the man in whom so many people had placed their trust. ‘Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country...’ When President Kennedy concluded his speech, Florentyna watched the crowd rise and found herself joining in the applause. She wondered how many people were clapping in other homes throughout America. She turned to Richard.
‘Not bad for a Democrat,’ he said, aware he was also clapping.
Florentyna smiled. ‘Do you think my father is there?’
‘Undoubtedly.’
‘So now we sit and wait for the appointment.’
George wrote the next day to confirm that Abel had been in Washington for the celebrations. He ended on the words: ‘Your father seems confident about going to Warsaw, and I am equally sure that if he’s offered the position, it will be easier to get him to meet Richard.’
‘What a friend George has turned out to be,’ said Florentyna.
‘To Abel as well as to us,’ said Richard thoughtfully.
Each day Florentyna checked the new appointments as they were released by Pierre Salinger, the White House press secretary, but no announcement concerning the Polish ambassador was forthcoming.
Chapter seventeen
When Florentyna did see her father’s name in the paper, she could hardly miss it: the banner headline was all across the front page:
Florentyna read the story in disbelief.
NEW YORK — Abel Rosnovski, the international hotelier known as the Chicago Baron, was arrested at 8:30 this morning at an apartment on East Fifty-seventh Street by agents of the FBI. The arrest took place after his return the previous night from a business trip to Turkey, where he had opened the Istanbul Baron, the latest in his chain of hotels. Rosnovski was charged by the FBI with bribery and corruption of government officials in fourteen different states. The FBI also wants to question ex-Congressman Henry Osborne, who has not been seen in Chicago for the past two weeks.
Rosnovski’s defense attorney, H. Trafford Jilks, made a statement denying the charges and added that his client had a full explanation which would exonerate him completely. Rosnovski was granted bail in his own recognizance of $10,000.
The news story went on to report that rumors had been circulating in Washington for some time that the White House had been considering Mr. Rosnovski for the post of the next U.S. ambassador to Poland.
That night Florentyna lay awake wondering how it could have all happened and what her father must be going through. She assumed Henry was involved in some way and determined to follow every scrap of information that was reported in the papers. Richard tried to comfort her by saying there were very few businessmen alive who had not at some stage in their careers been involved in a little bribery.
Three days before the trial was due to begin, the Justice Department found Henry Osborne in New Orleans. He was arrested, charged and immediately turned State’s evidence. The FBI asked Judge Prescott for a postponement to discuss with ex-Congressman Osborne the contents of a dossier on Rosnovski that had recently come into their possession. Judge Prescott granted the FBI a further four weeks to prepare their case.
The press soon discovered that Osborne, in order to clear his considerable debts, had originally sold the file that he had compiled over ten years while serving as a director of the Baron Group to a firm of private investigators in Chicago. How the file had then come into the hands of the FBI remained a mystery.
Florentyna was fearful that with Henry Osborne as star witness for the prosecution her father might have to serve a long jail sentence. After another sleepless night, Richard suggested she ought to contact her father. She concurred and wrote him a letter assuring him of her support and her belief in his innocence. She was about to lick the envelope when she walked over to her desk, took out her favorite picture of her son and sent it to his grandfather.
Four hours before the trial was due to begin, Henry Osborne was found hanging in his cell by a guard bringing in his breakfast. He had used a Harvard tie.
‘Why did Henry commit suicide?’ Florentyna asked her mother on the phone later that morning.