“I can understand that,” Frank said dryly.
“So anyway I had my new Camcorder, real nifty thing, got an image screen and all. Just hold, look at it and shoot. Great quality. So the wife said I should come down.”
“That’s terrific, Mr. Flanders. And the purpose of all this?” Frank looked at him inquiringly.
Realization spread over Flanders’s features. “Oh. I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I’m standing here rambling, have a tendency to do that, just ask the missus. Retired for a year. Never talked much at work. Assembly line at a processing plant. Like to talk now. Listen too. Spend a lot of time down at that little café over behind the bank. Good coffee and the muffins are the real thing, no low-fat stuff.”
Frank looked exasperated.
Flanders hurried on. “Well, I came down here to show you this. Give it to you, really. Kept a copy for myself of course.” He handed across the package.
Frank opened it and looked at the videocassette.
Flanders took off his cap, revealing a bald head with cottony tufts of hair clustered around his ears. He went on excitedly. “Got some really good shots, like I said. Like of the President and right when that fella was shot. Got all that. Jesus did I. I was following the President, you see. Ran me right into all the fireworks.”
Frank stared at the man.
“It’s all there, Lieutenant. For what it’s worth.” He looked at his watch. “Huh. I gotta go. Late for my lunch. Wife doesn’t like that.” He turned to leave. Seth Frank stared down at the cassette.
“Oh, Lieutenant. One more thing.”
“Yes.”
“If anything were to come from my tape, do you think they might use my name when they write about it?”
Frank shook his head. “Write about it?”
The old man looked excited. “Yeah. You know, the historians. They’d call it the Flanders Tape, wouldn’t they, or something like that. The Flanders Video maybe. You know like before.”
Frank wearily rubbed his temples. “Like before?”
“Yeah, Lieutenant. You know, like Zapruder with Kennedy.”
Frank’s face finally sagged in recognition. “I’ll be sure to let them know, Mr. Flanders. Just in case. For posterity.”
“There you go.” Flanders pointed a happy finger at him. “Posterity, I like that. Have a good one, Lieutenant.”
“Alan?”
Richmond absently motioned for Russell to come in and then looked down once again at the notebook in front of him. Finished, he closed it and looked at his Chief of Staff; his stare was impassive.
Russell hesitated, studying the carpet, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. Then she hurried across the room and fell rather than sat in one of the chairs.
“I’m not sure what to say to you, Alan. I realize my behavior was inexcusable, absolutely inappropriate, if I could plead temporary insanity I would.”
“So you’re not going to attempt to explain it away as being somehow in my best interests?” Richmond sat back in his chair, his eyes remained on Russell.
“No, I’m not. I’m here to offer my resignation.”
The President smiled. “Perhaps I did underestimate you, Gloria.”
He stood up, went around the desk and leaned against it, facing her. “On the contrary, your behavior was absolutely appropriate. If I had been in your position I would’ve done the same thing.”
She looked up at him. Her face betrayed her astonishment.
“Don’t misunderstand me, I expect loyalty, Gloria, like any leader. I do not, however, expect human beings to be anything more than that, meaning human, with all their associated weaknesses and survival instincts. We are, after all, animals. I have attained my position in life by never losing sight of the fact that the most important person in the world is myself. Whatever the situation, whatever the obstacle, I have never, never lost sight of that one simple truism. What you did that night displays that you also share that belief.”
“You know what I intended?”
“Of course I do. Gloria, I don’t condemn you for taking a situation and attempting to maximize its beneficial effect on you. My God, that’s the basis upon which this country and this city in particular are built.”
“But when Burton told you—”
Richmond held up one hand. “I admit I felt certain emotions that night. Betrayal perhaps foremost among them. But in the time since, I have concluded that what you did evidenced strength, not weakness, of character.”
Russell struggled to see where this was going. “Then may I correctly assume that you do not want my resignation?”
The President bent forward, took one of her hands. “I can’t recall you ever mentioning the word, Gloria. I can’t imagine breaking up our relationship after we’ve come to know each other so well. Shall we leave it at that?”
Russell rose to go. The President went back to his desk.
“Oh, Gloria. I do have a number of things I want to go over with you tonight. The family’s out of town. So perhaps we can work in my private quarters.”
Russell looked back at him.
“It might be a late night, Gloria. Better bring a change of clothes.” The President didn’t smile. His stare cut right through her, then he went back to his work.
Russell’s hand trembled as she closed the door.
Jack pounded on the door so hard he could feel the thick, polished wood cut into his knuckles.
The housekeeper opened the door but Jack shot through before she could say a word.
Jennifer Baldwin swept down the curved staircase and into the marbled entrance foyer. Dressed in yet another expensive evening gown, her hair tumbled down her shoulders framing significant cleavage. She was not smiling.
“Jack, what are you doing here?”
“I want to talk to you.”
“Jack, I have plans. This will have to wait.”
“No!” He grabbed her hand, looked around, pushed open a pair of carved doors and pulled her into the library, shutting the doors behind them.
She jerked her hand free. “Are you insane, Jack?”
He looked around the room with its huge bookcases and well-fed shelves of gilt-edged first editions. All for show, none of them had probably ever been opened. All for show.
“I’ve got one simple question for you to answer and then I’ll leave.”
“Jack—”
“One question. And then I’ll leave.”
She eyed him suspiciously, crossed her arms. “What is it?”
“Did you or did you not call my firm and tell them to fire Barry Alvis because he made me work the night we were at the White House?”
“Who told you that?”
“Just answer the question, Jenn.”
“Jack, why is this so important to you?”
“So you did have him fired?”
“Jack, I want you to stop thinking about that and start realizing the kind of future we’re going to have together. If we—”
“Answer the goddamned question!”
She exploded. “Yes! Yes I had the little shit fired. So what? He deserved it. He treated you as an inferior. And he was dead wrong. He was nothing. He played with fire and he got burned and I don’t feel the least bit sorry for him.” She looked at him without a trace of remorse.
Having heard the answer he expected to hear, Jack sat down in a chair and stared at the massive desk at the other end of the room. The high-backed, leather desk chair faced away from them. He looked at the original oils adorning the walls, the huge windows with perfectly pooled flowing drapes that probably cost more than he could even guess, the ornate woodwork, the omnipresent sculptures of metal and marble. The ceiling with yet another legion of medieval characters marching across it. The world of the Baldwins. Well they were welcome to it. He slowly closed his eyes.