"I just can't believe the voters would trust the country to those people," said Nick.
"Neither can my stepmother," said Toni. "But we have to face it."
"Toni ... I won't have a job if it happens. I think I can stay in Washington, though. I've talked with Reuther. I think there'll be a job for me with the United Auto Workers. I've got no promise, but I do have encouragement. I'm going to drive out to Oklahoma next week. I'll be back in two weeks. I was hoping you'd come with me. I'd like to introduce you to my family."
Toni stared at the table, smiled, and shook her head. "I'll be spending a lot of time in Florida between now and November. My senator is on the ballot, after all."
"Besides, I'm getting ahead of things, huh?"
"Nick, I didn't say that. I simply said I have obligations."
"Well — Yeah, sure. Of course. Obligations."
They didn't go back to Washington that night. They spent the night in a motel on the highway between Baltimore and Washington. She had to change clothes before she could go to the office, so Nick dropped her at her apartment, very early in the morning.
She went in. The two young women with whom she shared the apartment were asleep. She took a shower and stretched out on her bed in her panties and bra, thinking she might doze a little but not meaning to go to sleep. She did though.
"Hey, kiddo!"
She came awake and glanced at the clock. Oh, my god, it was after eight! Time to get moving.
"You had a call last night. You know a guy in New York by the name of Bat something? He wants you to call him. I left his number on the back cover of the phone book, the number in a heavy square. Okay?"
3
Bat's call to Toni had been prompted by an invitation from his father. It had been made over dinner in Jonas's apartment in the Waldorf Towers.
"I haven't yet congratulated you on the way you got the Senate subpoenas quashed," said Bat.
"Months ago," said Jonas.
"When we had dinner before, I knew they had been withdrawn, but I didn't know how you did it."
"Phil Wallace is a good lawyer," said Jonas, "but in all modesty, the way we got the Senate politicians off our back was my idea."
"A triple-damages anti-trust action," said Bat, nodding.
"Right. I figured all along that the senators didn't care about gate positions for Inter-Continental Airlines. The problem was that certain senators were in the back pockets of certain airline executives. Hell, I've got a couple on the string myself. So I had Phil and his co-counsel dig around a little, looking for evidence of collusion on the part of three airline companies. They found enough to justify the suit. I don't know if we would have won, but for the next three or four years we'd have been dropping subpoena after subpoena on them and digging through their files. Besides, their attorney fees —"
"What about your own attorney fees?"
"I don't pay fees," said Jonas. "I pay retainers. Phil Wallace and his partners get a flat one million dollars a year from me, whether they do any work for me or not — though I always have plenty of work for them. I've got other firms on smaller retainers, like Wilson, Clark and York and Gurza y Aroza. Besides which, I've got a dozen staff lawyers on my payroll. The antitrust suit wouldn't have increased my legal costs much."
"Anyway, you scared them off," said Bat.
"Anyway, I scared them off. They asked the senators to drop the investigation, which the senators were glad to do."
"Everybody in the office talks about it," said Bat. "With a certain amount of — Awe, I guess I'd call it."
"I guess you're entitled to congratulations yourself, in a sense," said Jonas. "Your great-uncle is President of Cuba again."
"I'd like it better if he'd been elected," said Bat. "It was a military coup d'etat, or as the Germans would call it, a putsch. He'll loot the country."
"That's the way things are done in Latin America, isn't it?" Jonas asked.
"All too often," said Bat.
They were served at the table by a tall, spare black man named Robair. Jonas had explained earlier that Robair had been houseman to the first Jonas, so had served the family for something like forty years. Now, as Robair was pouring wine, Jonas remarked that he knew more about the Cords than the Cords knew about themselves.
"No man is a hero to his valet," said Bat.
"Lord Chesterfield," said Jonas.
"Excuse me, Mr. Jonas," said Robair. "Actually, that was written in a letter by a Frenchwoman named Madame Comuel. 'Il n'y a point de heros pour les valets de chambre.' "
"Damn! My valet de chambre is better educated than I am."
"No, Mr. Jonas," said Robair with a faint smile. "I've just made a point of studying my trade."
They sat at the table after dinner. Jonas sipped bourbon. Bat sipped Courvoisier brandy.
"I've got several things I want to talk to you about," Jonas said. "First, and simplest, why don't you move into this apartment? I'm only here two or three nights a month and sometimes not that much. It's here, available to you."
"I couldn't afford to keep it clean," said Bat.
"Look. I leased it because Monica wanted it, because she spent so much time in New York. She asked for it in the divorce, but she didn't get it. I keep suites in hotels in Chicago and Los Angeles, so when I come to a city I'll find things the way I want them. Like, I've got my own telephone scramblers on the phones in all these places. I've got safes with papers locked inside — with combinations only I know." He shrugged. "I've got my brand of bourbon. I've got clothes. You don't have to clean the place. It is cleaned. You can save whatever you're paying. Besides" — he grinned — "think of what impression you'll make on a broad if you ask her to shack up and this is the shack."
Jonas and Monica had not put much of a mark on the apartment. Bat reflected. Likely they had bought the furniture from the previous occupant. The apartment was handsome but impersonal.
"Well?"
"Let me think about it," said Bat.
"Your gratitude is overwhelming," said Jonas sarcastically.
"I — Well, all right. And thanks." He didn't want to be beholden to his father, didn't want to be drawn within his orbit either, but it was true he could use the money he would save. Wilson, Clark & York didn't pay generously, and he didn't want to have to ask his mother to send him money. "I do appreciate it."
Jonas lifted his glass, looked at the remaining bourbon for a moment, then put it down. "Which brings up the next thing I want to talk to you about. Are you going to Cordoba for Christmas?"
"I don't think so."
"Well, I have a proposition. Come out to the home place, the ranch in Nevada. I'd like for you to see where we come from. I want you to meet Nevada Smith. Uh ... I was wondering about that girl. Suppose you could talk her into coming, too?"
"I don't know. I doubt it."
"Her senator will be reelected. She's been working her ass off and is entitled to a vacation. Also, she isn't committed to anybody else."
"How do you know about her? What the hell have you done?"
"Easy, son, easy. Phil Wallace knows Senator Holland. To use an expression you seem to favor, we asked straight questions and got straight answers."
"I don't remember that I even told you her name. She's none of your business."
Jonas smiled. "I plead guilty to a little snooping. She's a fine girl. You could hardly do better. Well — Okay, it's none of my business. But I'd like for you to spend a few days with me in Nevada, and Toni Maxim is invited too, if you want to ask her."
Bat hesitated for a moment, then said, "I'll think about it."