The four of them were whisked backstage and to an elevator that took them to a large suite on the highest floor of the hotel. There waiting for them were Will’s closest staff and a lot of big contributors to his campaign and to the party.
Kitty ran over. “The polls have just closed in Illinois,” she said, “and the networks, based on their exit polling, are giving it to us by two points.”
“We can all thank you for that, Kitty,” Will said, hugging her. “Your idea for the debate against the TV set gave us the state.”
“I hope that turns out to be true,” Kitty said. “I’ll never get tired of taking credit for it.”
Will deposited his parents on a comfortable sofa with drinks; then he and Kate wandered around the huge suite, shaking hands and talking to supporters, while the voting results mounted from around the nation.
Tim Coleman came over to Will. “It’s going pretty much the way Moss predicted: We’re neck and neck in electoral votes; California is going to decide the election.”
“Is there anything we didn’t do in California?” Will asked.
“Not that I can think of,” Tim replied.
“I don’t think there’s a hand in the state I didn’t shake,” Will said. “My arm is sore to the shoulder.”
“That’s the way it ought to be,” Tim said, laughing.
Midnight was approaching, 9 P.M. in California, when the polls would close and the networks could announce the results of their exit polling. The crowd in the suite were all sitting down, occupying all the furniture and much of the carpeted floor, facing the big TV screen, which was divided into quarters, one each for NBC, CBS, ABC, and CNN. Kitty was switching the sound from network to network. More coffee than champagne was being served at that hour.
“Quiet!” Kitty yelled, switching to NBC, where Tom Brokaw was speaking.
“...the closest presidential race in American history,” Brokaw was saying, “closer than Kennedy-Nixon, in 1960, closer than Nixon-Humphrey, in 1968. The polls have just closed in California, and we can now talk about the exit polling we’ve been doing in that state all day, right up to a couple of hours ago. Based on that polling we can now call the California race. Although no more than one percentage point separates the candidates, we can now say that California has gone to Congressman Howard Efton. And that means that Efton takes all fifty-four of California’s electoral votes and the election. Howard Efton is going to be the next president of the United States.”
The crowd sat in shocked silence. “Switch to ABC,” Tim Coleman shouted.
“...California gives the election to Eft Efton,” Peter Jennings was saying.
Kitty switched to CBS and Dan Rather. “It looks as though Efton has won this election,” Rather said.
Kitty switched to CNN. More of the same.
Nobody said much of anything.
Will beckoned Moss Mallet over. “What do you make of this?” he asked.
“No other kind of polling is as accurate as exit polling,” Moss said. “They talked to people who had already voted, as they left the polling places. Quite frankly, if even one of the networks had disagreed, I’d say we have a chance, but they’re all coming up with the same result. I’m sorry, Will, but we’ve lost it.”
Will stood up. “Listen up, everybody. I’m not going to say anything now, except to thank you for being here tonight and for your support during the campaign. Certainly, it doesn’t look good at the moment. Kate and I are going to go home and get some sleep, now, and I suggest you do the same. Kitty, schedule a press conference for noon tomorrow, on the Capitol steps, and I’ll make a statement then.” Will took Kate’s arm and started for the door, shaking hands along the way.
Kitty appeared at his elbow. “I’ll call you if anything changes,” she said.
“Don’t,” Will said. “I’m going to go home and sleep the sleep of the dead, and I don’t want to be disturbed by anybody. Please see to that.” He hugged her. “I’m sorry, Kitty; I know how hard you worked and how much you wanted this. Set up a dinner tomorrow night with just you, Tim, Moss, and Sam Meriwether and my folks, and we’ll pick over the bones and talk about what we might have done. I’ll be in the office by eleven-thirty. Have a statement ready for me to look at.”
“All right, Senator,” Kitty said, and there were tears in her eyes.
Will and Kate were quiet on the ride to Georgetown, but Billy seemed to want to talk.
“You know,” he said, “you ran one hell of a campaign, and if there were any justice, you’d have won. But we both know there’s precious little justice in politics.”
“I guess you’re right, Dad,” Will replied.
“I had an awful good time, though.”
“So did I,” Patricia echoed. “You’ve got a lot to be proud of, Will.”
When they got out of the car, the head of the Secret Service detail approached Will. “Senator,” he said, “we’ve just had word that the FBI has tracked down Zeke Tennant. He’s in a mountain cabin in Idaho, and they’re planning to take him tomorrow morning. They’re not releasing this to the media; they don’t want to alert him.”
“That’s good news,” Will said. “I want to thank you and all your people for your great work during the campaign,” he said. “You saved my life more than once. I’d appreciate it if you’d put together a list of the name of every man and woman who worked on the detail. I’d like to write to them.”
“Of course, Senator,” the agent said. “I’ve had your cars brought back; they’re in the garage. Our people are already out of the house, and I’ll leave a couple of men on the front door to see that no one disturbs you tonight; in the morning, we’ll be gone.”
Will let them into the house and began closing blinds. “God, I’m tired,” he said.
Kate walked to the rear hallway, switched off the telephones, then came back. “The agents are already gone,” she said. “They left everything as neat as a pin. Would you like something to eat? There’s still some pizza in the oven.”
“No, I just want to sleep,” Will said. He took her hand, and they walked upstairs together.
“Do you folks need anything?” Kate asked Patricia.
“I might have a glass of milk after a while,” Patricia replied, “but right now I just want to get Billy to bed. He’s very tired. Don’t worry, I know where the kitchen is.”
“Good night, then,” Kate said, kissing her.
Kate switched off the upstairs phones. “How do you feel?” she asked.
“Numb,” Will replied. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”
They got undressed and into bed.
“You know,” she said, “life will be simpler now, but I had started looking forward to your being president. I think I’m more disappointed than you are.”
“I’ll catch up with you tomorrow,” he said.
Will fell asleep with Kate’s head on his shoulder.
66
Will came awake very slowly in the darkened room. Kate wasn’t there, and he could smell coffee brewing downstairs. He rolled over and looked at the bedside clock. Nearly seven o’clock. He’d slept through the night without even turning over.
He got up, went to the bathroom, and brushed his teeth, using his left hand. His right was too sore and swollen from shaking hands to make a fist. He put on a robe over his nightshirt, got into his slippers, and walked downstairs.
Kate looked over her shoulder from the kitchen. “Morning. Your folks are still asleep; you want some eggs?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” he said, looking around. “Did you bring in the papers?”
“Nope.”
“Do we have any sausage?”
“Some in the freezer, I think. I’ll nuke it.”