“Well, that’s very flattering, Senator,” Rutledge said, “but I can’t honestly say that I’ve already decided to vote for you. I’d like to see who else is running.”
“It’s not necessary that you vote for me, Mr. Rutledge,” Will said. “I think you’d be making a fine contribution to the political process, in general, if you could help keep just one major campaign on track. I don’t want to see the excesses of the past races this year, and I’m sure you don’t, either. Your work at the Justice Department and your personal reputation make you an ideal person to make this contribution.”
“Would you expect to use my name?”
“Yes. I would release your name, along with a list of other people who are assisting my campaign, and a description of your function.”
“Well, I suppose that would be all right. The purpose is a noble one, and I wouldn’t appear to be taking a partisan political stand.”
“I’m not sure that’s the case,” Will said. “The mere mention of your name in conjunction with my campaign will cause many people to infer that you’re supporting me. You would be free, of course, to clarify your position to your colleagues at Harvard Law and to the press. You need never make a statement supporting me, not even if you decide to. I’m quite content to have you as an outside, objective advisor to my campaign.”
“I appreciate your candor, Senator,” Rutledge said. “On that basis, I accept. I would be grateful if you would write to me, setting out what you expect my contribution to be, and I will respond in writing. Down the road a piece, it might be good to have such a communication on the record.”
“I will do so immediately,” Will said, “and I’m delighted that you’ll serve in this capacity. I’m announcing at noon on Saturday, on the Capitol steps. Everyone so far associated with my campaign will be there, and we’d be very pleased if you would join us. When I introduce you, I’ll stress your objective status.”
“I’d like very much to meet your people,” Rutledge said, “and I’d like to be there.”
“Good. I’ll have my office arrange airline tickets, and if you’d like to stay overnight, my wife and I would be very happy to have you as our guest in Georgetown.”
“Thank you. Can I let you know?”
“Of course. My office will be in touch about the tickets today.” Will gave him his private office number. “I hope you’ll feel free to call me if you have any questions for me or any member of my staff.”
“Thank you,” Rutledge replied. “I look forward to receiving your letter, and I’ll see you on Saturday.”
Will said good-bye and hung up. Immediately, he dictated a letter to Rutledge. Now he had a campaign manager, a political consultant, and a Holy Man. It was a start.
17
Will and Kate sat before a blazing fire in his Georgetown study. He had poured her a scotch and himself a bourbon. “A lot happened today,” he said.
“I expect so. Tell me about it.”
“Biggest news first: Joe Adams called me right after his TV address and told me that, if the president should die, he will appoint me as vice president.”
Kate began choking on her scotch. Will got up and clapped her on the back a couple of times. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“I took it pretty much the same way, but others were in the room, and I couldn’t let on.”
“Is the president going to die?”
“The prognosis is poor,” Will said.
“You know, I was never his biggest fan, but he did a good job, and he was nice to his wife.”
“I hope when I go, someone will speak as well of me.” Will laughed.
“The statement applies to you in full, except that I’m your biggest fan.”
“Kate, sometimes I wonder about that.”
“If I’m your fan? You can’t be serious.”
“It’s just that you never seem to get very excited about anything that happens to me. Sometimes I’m not even sure that you approve of my line of work.”
Kate put down her drink, got up, and sat on his lap. She kissed him thoroughly. “I’m sorry if I seem that way,” she said. “Just for the record, quite apart from loving you dearly and completely, I want to see you go all the way this year. If I sometimes seem reticent, it’s because I’m selfishly thinking what this is going to mean to me.”
“I know that you’re accustomed to our life the way it is, my love, but try and look at this optimistically. If I win, our lives are going to be more exciting than we could ever have dreamed, and if I lose, we’ll be back to normal by Thanksgiving.”
“Don’t kid yourself, pal,” she said, kissing him again. “Once you make that announcement on Saturday, nothing is ever going to be the same again. It may be better, it may be worse, but it won’t be the same.”
“You have a point.”
“I just hope that, no matter how hard the wind blows, I can hang on to my job.”
“I’ll do everything I can to see that you do,” he replied.
She kissed him again, then went back to her chair and her scotch. “Oh, Jesus,” she said suddenly.
“What’s wrong?”
“If you’re vice president, we’ll have to move into the vice-presidential residence, won’t we?”
“You know, I hadn’t given that a thought.”
“I believe you are acquainted with how much I hate moving.”
“I believe I am. Maybe, since this would only be for the year, we could stay here.”
“I’d love it if we could,” she said.
“If somebody makes us move, then I suppose we could just pack our clothes and leave everything else here as it is for our return.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” she said.
The telephone rang, and Will picked it up. “Hello?”
“Senator, it’s Tim. I’m in a car about a few blocks from you with Leo Berg, who’s agreed to run our advance operation.”
“That’s great news, Tim; tell him I’m very pleased.”
“You’ll get to tell him yourself; we’ll be there in five minutes.”
“What for?”
“I’ll explain when we get there. We’ll try not to interfere with your dinner.” Tim hung up.
“We’re about to have visitors — Tim Coleman and a man named Leo Berg, who used to run the White House Secret Service detail. I don’t know what they want.”
The doorbell rang, and Will got up.
“Tim lied; they weren’t a few blocks away, they were outside.” He let the two men in.
“Senator,” Berg said, “thank you for the opportunity; I’m looking forward to it.”
“I’m glad to have you aboard, Leo. Now what can I do for you two?”
“Senator, Tim tells me that there was an attempt on your life some years ago by a right-wing militia group.”
Will glanced at Tim sharply.
“I’m sorry, Senator, but I felt Leo should know about this.”
Will turned back to Berg. “That’s correct. It was a group calling themselves The Elect, and it was run by a retired general named Willingham. Both Willingham and the assassin died in the attempt.”
“Because of that, Senator,” Berg said, “I want to ask for Secret Service support earlier than it would ordinarily be granted in a campaign.”
“Do you really think that’s necessary?”
“Sir, these militia groups are in touch with each other; if you’ve annoyed one of them, you’ve probably annoyed more.”
“I don’t know, Leo,” Will said. “I don’t want to ask for anything that other candidates won’t be getting.”
“They can make their own requests,” Berg replied.