Shall We Tell the President? (23 page)

‘No question,
while.the
Democrats remain in control of both Houses. The minority report was vicious,
but it’ll get a majority on 10 March. There wasn’t much doubt about that after
the House put it through. By Thursday, nothing can stop it. The Majority Leader
is only too aware of the importance the President attaches to this bill.’

Byrd, thought Mark. He’s on the list.
‘Could you tell me a little about the Majority Leader? He was on the Judiciary
Committee, right? Where does he stand?’

‘That’s an interesting question, Andrews.
Senator Byrd is a humourless, driven, ambitious individual. He has ulcers. He
was born in poverty, always makes a point of emphasising his origins, so much
so that some of his colleagues call him Uriah
Heep
.
In the 1940s, when he was only nineteen, he belonged to the Ku Klux Klan; yet
he managed to overcome that handicap and rise to the most powerful post in the
Senate in a party dominated by liberals. He got where he is because he’s a team
player. He does favours for other senators, and always has. He’s diligent,
conscientious about meeting their needs. His attention to detail has paid off
in spades. He had always supported the Democratic — with a capital D -
position. And he’s a very effective Majority Leader.

‘No love lost in that relationship, but
since Byrd has become Majority Leader he has fallen into line. With his
background, it’s unlikely that he’s genuinely in favour of gun control, but he
hasn’t spoken out against the bill, naturally, because he has been shepherding
it through the Senate for the President. He’s done it very efficiently. He’s
scheduled it early, avoided recesses—’

‘Sorry to interrupt you, Mr
Lykham
, but what do you mean he’s avoided recesses? The
committee didn’t sit round the clock, surely?’

‘No, young man, I was referring to a
technical, procedural distinction between adjournment and recess. You see, the
Senate usually recesses from one day to the next. The day after a recess, the
unfinished business of the previous day is in order; the morning business can
be dispensed with. Whenever the Majority Leader opts for a recess rather than
adjournment, he thereby lengthens the “legislative day”. And since bills
reported from committee must lay over one legislative day before a motion to
consider is in order, the recess can be used to delay action on a particular measure.
The so-called legislative day can extend for days, weeks, conceivably even
months now she only has two years left. This bill has been put through in the
minimum possible time. If the President doesn’t get support on 10 March, she
will not have time to put it up again before she goes for re-election. It will
be a victory for those against the bill. And she may not be re-elected if the
polls are to be believed. Americans get sick of their presidents very quickly
nowadays. So it’s 10 March or forget it.’

‘What could stop it on 10 March?’

‘Nothing I can think of offhand, except the
death of the President, which could recess the Senate for seven days. Still the
President looks pretty fit to me, perhaps a little tired, not that I’m one to
comment.’

Mark was about to question
Lykham
about Brooks, when the staff director glanced at his
watch.

‘Look at the time,’
Lykham
expostulated, ‘I must get back. I have to be the first, you know, get
everything in order, so those senators think that we haven’t been away at all.’

Mark thanked him.
Lykham
picked up the check and signed it.

‘Any time you want more help or
information, don’t hesitate to get in touch.’

‘I certainly will.’ said Mark.

The fat staff director waddled away at what
for him was full speed. Mark pondered over his coffee. The man three tables
away had finished his and was waiting for Mark’s next move. Those damn bells
were ringing again. Only one this time, indicating that the yeas and nays were
being tallied on the Senate floor. As soon as the vote was over, the senators
would be flocking back to committee meetings. The bell brought Mark sharply out
of his thoughts.

Once again he returned to the
Dirksen
Building
and the Foreign Relations
Committee Suite, where he asked if he could see Mr
Kenneck
.

‘Who shall I say is asking for him?’ the
receptionist enquired.

‘Andrews, I’m a Yale student.’

She picked a phone up and pressed two
digits, informed the listener of what Mark had told her.

‘He’s in Room 4491.’

Mark thanked her and left for Room 4491,
which was only a few doors down the corridor.

‘Well, Andrews, what can I do for you?’ he
asked, even before Mark had closed the door.

Mark was taken aback by the suddenness of
his question; he recovered.

‘I’m doing some research for a thesis, Mr
Kenneck
, on the work of senators, and Mr
Lykham
said you were the man to speak to. I wondered if
Senators Nunn and Pearson were in the Senate on Thursday, 3 March, at 10:30,
for the Foreign Relations Committee?’

Kenneck
bent over a red leather-bound book.
^l
Nunn
- no.’ He paused. ‘Pearson - no. Anything else, Mr Andrews?’ He obviously
hadn’t any time to waste.

‘No, thank you,’ said Mark and left.

Mark headed for the Library. Suddenly he
was down to five senators, if the Bureau were right about what they had
overheard on the illegal radio transmission when their man must have been in
the Senate on the morning of 3 March. He checked his notes: each one of the
remaining suspects - Brooks, Byrd, Dexter, Harrison, and Thornton - had sat on
the Judiciary Committee on the Gun Control bill and was in the Senate for the
debate. Five men and a motive?

He was followed out of the room and into
the elevator that took him to the ground floor. He used the pay phone across
the hall from the elevator, near the
Constitution
Avenue
entrance, to call the Director.

He dialled the Director’s private number.

‘Julius.’

‘What’s your number?’

Mark gave it. A few seconds later the
Director called him back.

‘Nunn and Pearson are off. I’m down to five
and the one thing they have in common is that all of them were on the committee
of the Gun Control bill.’

‘Good,’ said the Director. ‘Much as I had
expected. Getting better, Mark, but your time is running out, we’ve only about
forty-eight hours left.’

‘Yes, sir.’

The phone clicked.

He waited for a moment and then dialled
Woodrow Wilson. There was the usual interminable wait while they found
Elizabeth
. What could he
say about last night? What if the Director were right and her father—

‘Dr Dexter.’

‘When do you finish work tonight, Liz?’

‘Five o’clock, lover,’ she said mockingly.

‘May I pick you up?’

‘If you like, now that I know your
intentions are pure and honourable.’

‘Listen, one day, but not today, I’ll be
able to explain about that.’

‘See you at five, Mark.’

‘See you at five, Liz.’

Mark put
Elizabeth
out of his mind by a conscious
effort of will, and walked across the street to the Capitol grounds. He sat
down under a tree on the grassy area between the Supreme Court and the Capitol.
Protected, he thought, by law and legislature, bound by Constitution and
Independence
. Who would
dare to confront him here in front of the Capitol, the favoured haunt of Senate
staff, law clerks, and the Capitol police? A blue and white sightseeing
tourmobile
passed by on 1st Street, blocking his view of
the fountains in front of the Supreme Court. Tourists gaped at Washington’s
white-marbled splendour. ‘And on your right, ladies and gentlemen, the United
States Capitol. The cornerstone of the original building was laid in 1793. The
British burned the Capitol building on 24 August, 1814.. .’

And some crazy senator is going to defile
it on 10 March, added Mark silently as the
tourmobile
moved on. Foreboding oppressed him; it really is going to happen, we can’t stop
it. Comes Caesar to the Capitol… Blood on the steps.

He forced himself to look at his notes.
Brooks, Byrd, Dexter, Harrison, Thornton. He had two days to transform five
into one. The conspirator he sought was Cassius, not Brutus. Brooks, Byrd,
Dexter, Harrison, and Thornton. Where were they at lunchtime on 24 February? If
he knew the answer, he would know which four men were innocent and which man
was so desperate that he would plot to assassinate the President. Even if we
find out which man is behind this, he thought, as he stood up and brushed the
grass from his trousers, how do we stop the murder? Obviously, the Senator
isn’t going to commit the killing himself. We must keep the President away from
the Capitol. The Director must have a plan, he surely wouldn’t let it go that
far. Mark closed his file and walked to the Metro.

Once home, he picked up his car and drove
slowly to Woodrow Wilson. He looked in the rear-view mirror. A different car
was following him today, a black Buick. Someone looking after me again, he
thought. He arrived at the hospital at 4:45 but
Elizabeth
wasn’t free yet, so he went back to
his car and turned on the evening news. An earthquake in the
Philippines
that had killed 112 people was the lead story. President Kane was still
confident of support for the Gun Control bill. The Dow-Jones index had moved up
three points to 1,411. The Yankees beat the Dodgers in a spring training game,
what’s new?

Elizabeth came out of the hospital looking
depressed and jumped in beside him.

‘What can I say about last night?’ Mark
asked.

‘Nothing,’ said
Elizabeth
. ‘It was like reading a book with
the last chapter torn out. Who tore it out, Mark?’

‘Perhaps I’ve brought the last chapter with
me,’ said Mark, avoiding the question.

‘Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll be in the
mood for another bedtime story for a while,’ she replied. ‘The last one gave me
a bad dream.’

Elizabeth was very quiet and Mark could get
little response from her. He turned right off
Independence
and stopped the car on one of
the side streets on the Mall, facing the Jefferson Memorial and the sunset.

‘Is it last night?’ asked Mark.

‘Partly,’ she said. ‘You made me feel
pretty silly walking off like that. I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me
what it was all about?’

‘I can’t do that,’ said Mark uneasily. ‘But
believe me, it had nothing to do with you. At least that’s almost—’ He stopped
abruptly.

Never embarrass the Bureau.

‘ “At least that’s almost” what? Almost
true? Why was that call so important?’

‘Let’s stop this and go eat.’

Elizabeth didn’t reply.

He started the car again. Two cars pulled
out at the same time as he did. A blue Ford sedan and a black Buick. They’re
certainly making sure today, he thought. Perhaps one of them is just looking
for a parking space. He glanced at
Elizabeth
to see if she’d noticed them too; no, why should she, only he could see in the
rear-view mirror. He drove to a small, warm Japanese restaurant on
Wisconsin Avenue
.
He couldn’t take her home while the damned Bureau had the place bugged. Deftly,
the Oriental waiter sliced the fat shrimps, cooked them on the metal slab in
the centre of their table. He flicked each shrimp as he finished it on to their
plates, giving them small, delicious bowls of sauces in which to dip the
pieces.
Elizabeth
brightened under the influence of the hot sake.

‘I’m sorry to react so strongly. I have a
lot on my mind at the moment.’

‘Like to tell me about it?’

‘I can’t, I’m afraid. It’s personal and my
father has asked me not to discuss it with anyone yet.’

Mark froze. ‘Can’t you tell me?’

‘No. I guess we’ll both have to be
patient.’

They went to a drive-in movie and sat in
the comfortable semi-darkness, arms companionably intertwined. Mark sensed she
didn’t wish to be touched, and indeed he was in no mood to do so. They were both
concerned about the same man, but for different reasons - or was it the same
reason? And how would she react if she discovered that he had been
investigating her father since the day after they met? Maybe she knew. Damn it,
why couldn’t he simply believe in her? Surely, she wasn’t setting him up. He
could remember very little about the film, and when it ended he took her home
and left immediately. Two cars were still following him.

A figure jumped out of the shadows. ‘Hi,
stud!’ Mark swung around and checked his holster nervously.

‘Oh, hi, Simon.’

‘Listen, man, I can show you some dirty
postcards if you’re still desperate, ‘cause it seems that you’re just not good
enough, man. I had a black one last night, I’m having a white one tonight.’