"Umm." Todd wrote on his yellow pad, but did not seem overly impressed.
"Is there anything else new bearing on the ... ah ... situation?" he asked.
There was an uncomfortable moment of silence. We're a funny crew, Casey thought. Each man here is tied to the President, but not to any of the others. Except me. I don't know any of these men except Paul. I wonder how the President picked this group? Casey was puzzling over the absence of "big" names from Congress and the Cabinet when Clark spoke.
The senator told of questioning Scott on communications, and of Scott's putting him off by explaining that there were changes under way because of failures in the last alert.
"Is that right, Jiggs?" Lyman asked.
"No, sir," said Casey quickly. "That is not true. About the only thing that went right with the last All Red was communications. Even the big master cut-in, the one that allows us to take over the networks, worked perfectly, in spite of the fact that it had never been tested before."
"Score another for Gentleman Jim," said Girard. "And I always thought he was a real Boy Scout."
"Well, he gave a wonderful imitation of one this morning," Clark said. "He laid down a personal statement for the committee that was about as fine as I ever heard." He went on to quote the General on the treaty and his fears of Russian duplicity.
"Of course," said Lyman, "that's the real trouble with our conjectures. I mean Scott's character. Even to consider tampering with the Constitution requires a certain kind of personality-overly ambitious and a little bit warped. Scott has always impressed me as just the opposite. I've never doubted his sincerity, nor his feeling for the country either. After all, I appointed him chairman of the Joint Chiefs. How about it, Jiggs?"
"That's why I waited so long yesterday," Casey said hesitantly. "General Scott has never been a conniver. We have them in the service, sir, just like you have them, I guess, in politics. But the General is always straightforward. He always says that he could never have gone so far in any other country."
"As I say," Clark added, "he struck that same note this morning. And I couldn't detect any false overtones either."
"That's what I mean," Casey said. "I guess you all remember that old joke about MacArthur, how he'd turn to his wife when they played the national anthem and say, 'They're playing our song, dear'? Well, I've always kind of thought it was Scott's song."
Casey paused a moment, then added: "So his misstatements to me yesterday hit me pretty hard."
"You mean lies, don't you, Colonel?" asked Todd quickly.
"Well, yes, sir."
"I just think we'll make more progress if we're completely frank," Todd said tartly. "It will save time."
They waited for the President to resume his discourse on Scott, but Lyman, busying himself with the filling and firing of his pipe, said nothing. Todd went back to his check list.
"Anything else new?"
"I followed Scott today," offered Corwin, "as the President directed. When he left the Senate hearing this morning, Senator Prentice got in the car with him. They drove to General Scott's quarters at Fort Myer. A few minutes after they got there, General Hardesty and General Riley drove up, and then General Dieffenbach arrived in an Army car. They were still there when I had to leave. Must be a pretty long lunch."
"Admiral Palmer was not there?" asked Todd.
"Nope. No sign of him."
Todd tapped his pencil on his teeth. His brows gathered in thought. He was clearly enjoying his role as chief diagnostician.
"As you know," he said, "Palmer was not at the chiefs' meeting yesterday. That did not seem particularly significant, but his absence today makes it look more interesting. The only member of the Joint Chiefs not present. Mr. President, I have an idea."
"All right, Chris, shoot."
"Why don't you call Barney Rutkowski? You could remind him of his earlier conversation and find out if anything has developed since that he knows of. Tell him you want him to fly in here and talk to you in confidence. Then, when he gets here, send him over to see Palmer on some pretext and sound him out. It might be very illuminating."
"Do you suppose Barney knows Palmer?" asked Clark.
Casey had an answer. "All the chiefs have visited the Air Defense Command. They go there at least once a year." He chuckled. "So do I. Everybody likes Colorado Springs."
"That's good enough," said Todd. "What do you think, Mr. President?"
Lyman walked to one of the windowpanes and rubbed a finger across it. He didn't improve the visibility; the mist was on the outside.
"I rather like the idea," he said.
"But don't let Rutkowski know what's bothering you," Todd said. "This business, I mean."
Corwin, sitting at the door, snapped his fingers and held up a hand for silence. A moment later there was a knock at the door. The Secret Service man opened it a little-so that others in the room could not be seen from the outside-and then, recognizing Esther Townsend, threw it wide.
The secretary was all smiles.
"Sorry to interrupt, Mr. President," she said, "but you just became a grandfather. A baby girl. Liz is doing fine."
"Oh, my God." Lyman got up quickly. "I completely forgot about that. I meant to call Doris this morning. Gentlemen, excuse me for a minute, will you? I have to call Mrs. Lyman."
"Never mind the cigars," Clark said. "I'll buy for the house-from your stock downstairs."
"While you're down there," said Todd, as if he had not heard Esther, "why not call Rutkowski, Mr. President? Time's running."
The connection to the hospital in Louisville was already open when Lyman reached his bedroom on the floor below. His wife Doris, cheerful as ever, bubbled happily over the wire. Liz was fine, but too groggy to talk to her father. She had waited a few minutes before calling to make sure Liz was all right. The baby was all in one piece, with the right number of everything, and nicely wrinkled. Would it be all right to name it Florence, after Lyman's mother?
"Whatever the kids want," Lyman said happily. "And, honey, kiss Liz for me. And tell Ed he's a great man."
Another button on Lyman's phone winked insistently. He told Doris to hang on and pushed it. It was Frank Simon on the other line.
"Mr. President," said the press secretary, "Esther told me you were calling Louisville. How about letting the photographers come up for a shot of you? We could use it. The boys in the pressroom think you're sick."
"Sure, sure." Lyman was excited. "Bring 'em up, Frank."
The photographers trooped in just as Lyman was telling his wife that much as he wanted her home (and he did) she might as well wait until Monday. Too much doing on the treaty to give him any free time anyway, he said.
"That's an awful serious look for a new grandfather, Mr. President," said Pete Schnure of AP photos. "How about a smile, huh?"
Lyman obliged to the accompaniment of a brief barrage of flashbulbs, but he shook his head when they asked for more. Simon palmed his charges out the door into the oval study. The President wound up his talk with his wife, then made sure they had started down on the elevator before asking Esther to get him General Rutkowski at the Air Defense Command on a normal commercial line. It took several minutes.
"This is Jordan Lyman, Barney. How are you?"
"Fine, Mr. President." The voice was strong and confident.
"Barney, you remember that call you made to me several months ago?"
"Very clearly, sir."
"Has there been anything else said by ... from the same quarter?"
"No, sir. I indicated at the time I didn't think such a conversation would be proper, and that's the last I heard of it."
"Barney, something quite important may have come up. Could you fly in here tonight?"
"Certainly, sir. I can leave in an hour or two."