me.”
“You bet your ass it would, and I’ve already made some calls. They’re sending me an application to start the process.”
“Listen, baby, I can’t have anything to do with your application; I can’t even write a letter, unless the AG asks me to.”
“How about if I give the big guy as a reference. I’ve known him since he was a Capitol Hill aide, worked with him a couple of times on justice issues.”
“Good idea. He’ll ask me, and I’ll give him my highest recommendation.”
“Then I’ll get started on the application as soon as it comes. When do you want me to resign?”
“We talk almost every day on state business. During the next call, tell me about your plan, then send me a letter saying that you want to start looking for something, but you’ll stay on until you’ve nailed down a new job. That’ll get it on the record, and be sure to log the content of our conversation. I’ll do the same.”
“Can we get together when I’m in town?” she asked.
“Baby, you know we can’t do that. I’ve got the whole process to go through, and I’ve got a security detail on my back now. But announcing this means we can start the proceedings immediately, and I’ve already talked with my people about how to divvy up, so that shouldn’t take long. I’m sure she has a list of what she wants. I’ll give her the house at home, of course, and she’ll pretty much get half. Don’t worry, there’ll be enough for us, especially if I get the job. And after that, who knows?”
“How are we going to handle it when I get there?”
“After everything’s over, we’ll arrange to bump into each other at some public event, then we’ll do a few dinners, or something, just to let people get used to seeing us together, and after that, we’ll be home free. I think you might like that very nice house over at the Naval Observatory.”
“I might at that,” she said.
“I wish you were here, now, babe,” he said.
“I want to fuck you,” she said.
“How would you like it?”
“Every which way.”
“That’s a promise, but we have to be patient. If you get a chance, be seen with other men around town. That would be good for us.”
“What if I fall in love?”
“You’re already in love,” he said, “and so am I. We’re going to make this work. Bye-bye, now. We won’t be talking for a while, and always let me make the call.”
“Will do, and I’m holding you to that promise.”
Stanton hung up and tried not to think about her body.
A block and a half away, a man in an extremely well-equipped car was fiddling with a very illegal scanner that operated on cell-phone frequencies. He had caught only snatches of that conversation, since in this neighborhood he couldn’t park where the reception was best and listen without attracting Secret Service attention. He didn’t know who the parties were, but he knew there was a story in this, probably a big one. He would just have to keep listening. He shut off his recorder and made a note of the time and place where the reception had been best, then he took the memory chip from the recorder and slipped it into his pocket. He’d go over it later with Marlene; she was very good at figuring out this stuff.
13
FBI Assistant Director Kerry Smith, along with a recording technician and the agent who was nominally in charge of the background investigation, Shelly Bach, presented himself at the reception desk at the White House.
Smith gave his name and title. “I have an appointment with Governor Martin Stanton,” he told the uniformed Secret Service officer behind the desk.
“Yes, Director Smith,” the officer replied, “we’ve reserved the Map Room for you, and you’ll have half an hour to set up your equipment before the governor arrives.”
Smith and his little group followed another officer down hallways until they were admitted to a handsome room.
“This is called the Map Room,” the officer said, “because during World War Two all the theater operations maps were displayed here and kept current so that President Roosevelt could consult them at any time.”
“That’s very interesting,” Kerry replied, because it was. “Thanks for your help.” The man left, and the technician began setting up the equipment around the conference table.
Will Lee stood as Governor Stanton was shown into his private study, off the Oval Office. They shook hands and sat down.
“Good morning, Marty,” Will said.
“Good morning, Will.”
“I’ve talked with all the relevant people about your situation, and there’s a general agreement that you should remain on the ticket. Whatever light flak we might receive about your domestic situation would be less than the difficulties involved in choosing a new running mate, and we all agree that you’re the best man for the job.”
Stanton heaved an audible sigh. “Thank you, Will, I’m very pleased to hear that.”
“We’re able to proceed as before, largely because of your candor in bringing up the situation now, instead of later, and I want you to know we’re all grateful to you.”
“I’m looking forward to the campaign,” Stanton said. “Just let me know what you want me to do.”
“Right now my staff are putting together a schedule for you, Marty, and, of course, they’ll want your approval before it’s all set. Roughly, the FBI expects to conclude its background check this week, perhaps as early as tomorrow, and the day after the National Cathedral service for George Kiel, I’ll announce that I’m appointing you to his unexpired term. Barring any hiccups, we should have Senate approval inside of a week.”
“That’s moving fast,” Stanton said.
“We’re going to need every day between now and the election,” Will said. “The Republican Convention starts Monday, and we’ll all be interested, of course, to see who they pick. They’re going to get a big television audience, because of the closeness of their race. No one candidate has the delegates to sew it up yet.”
“I think you can beat any one of them handily, Will.”
“Together, I think we can.” Will’s phone buzzed, and he picked it up. “Thank you,” he said, and hung up. “The FBI people are ready for you in the Map Room.”
Cora Parker, the formidable African-American woman who was Will’s personal secretary, came into the room. “Governor, if you’ll follow me, please,” she said.
“We’ll talk more later,” Will said, waving him off.
Kerry Smith stood as Governor Martin Stanton walked into the room. “Good morning, Governor,” he said, with a smile. “I’m Assistant Director of the FBI Kerry Smith. This is my associate, Special Agent Shelly Bach, and our technician, Danny Miller.”
The governor shook hands all around.
“Please have a seat there,” Kerry said, indicating a chair on the other side of the table. “As you can see, you
