"And did Broderick tell you where Henderson was picked up?"
"The military police picked him up on a downtown street here in Washington, as I understand it."
Lyman shook his head in impatience. "General, Colonel Henderson was kidnapped. He was taken forcibly from Senator Clark's home in Georgetown."
Scott threw back his head and laughed.
"Mr. President, let's get back to earth. I don't know who's providing your information, but he has a vivid imagination."
"We will go to another subject," said Lyman coldly.
"Before we do, Mr. President, would you mind if I had one of those excellent cigars from your box?"
Lyman had no intention of letting the General relax in a cloud of easy cigar smoke.
"I'm sorry," he lied, "but Esther must have forgotten to fill it today. I looked just before you came in."
"Well, then." Scott unbuttoned his jacket and reached into a shirt pocket. "I trust you don't mind if I have one of my own."
"Not at all." Lyman felt that he had been outmaneuvered.
Scott lit the cigar and watched reflectively as the first few puffs of smoke rose toward the ceiling. He settled back on the couch and smiled.
"There was something else, Mr. President?"
Boy, this is a tough customer, Lyman thought. The muscles between his shoulder blades hurt, and he could feel the strain in his face. He hoped he looked half as confident to Scott as the General did to him.
"Indeed there is," Lyman said. "I would like an explanation of your wagering activities, in particular your betting pool on the Preakness."
"Oh, come now, Mr. President. Certainly you do not intend to try to pillory me for making a bet?"
"I would like an explanation, General."
"There's really nothing to explain," Scott replied. "Oh, I know all-service radio isn't supposed to be used for personal traffic of that kind. But the chairman traditionally has been granted small courtesies."
"I understand you transferred a young naval officer who talked about the betting messages."
"Cryptographic officers are not supposed to talk about any messages," Scott snapped. "And I see that Colonel Casey has been talking about my personal affairs as well. Frankly, Mr. President, I am surprised and disappointed."
"How do you know I've been talking to Colonel Casey?" Lyman's voice was sharp.
"I didn't say you had. I merely said Colonel Casey had talked to someone. He came to you, then?"
"If you don't mind, General," Lyman said, "I'll ask the questions. Why did you excuse Casey from his work for four days this week?"
"He was tired."
"And why did Admiral Barnswell refuse to join the wagering pool?"
"I really have no idea, Mr. President," said Scott. "I guess some men just don't like to gamble. I love it." He was expansive. "It's one of my many failings."
Lyman eyed Scott closely. There was no indication that he knew of Girard's trip or that he had talked to Barnswell. The President waited a moment, hoping the General would say something more that might offer a clue on the point, but when Scott spoke after several contemplative puffs on his cigar his voice was even and natural.
"If I might ask just one question, Mr. President, what is the purpose of these inquiries about my little Preakness pool? Surely you're not indicating that I am being asked to resign because I sent a personal message?"
"Of course not, General," Lyman said. "Now, on another point. Will you please explain why you and the Joint Chiefs scheduled the alert for a day when Congress will be in recess and its members scattered all over the country?"
"No better way to throw the field commanders off guard," Scott said quickly. "If you recall, you yourself said as much when you approved the date."
"Was Admiral Palmer present at the meeting when the time was fixed?"
"No-o." For the first time, Scott seemed just a trifle taken aback. "No, he wasn't."
"His deputy?"
"No, as I recall," said Scott slowly, "the Navy was absent that day."
"And there have been several other recent meetings when neither Admiral Palmer nor his deputy was present?"
"Well, yes. Now that you mention it, there have been."
"Isn't that highly unusual?"
"Unusual, perhaps, but not highly. The Navy just couldn't make it the last few times. Admiral Palmer, as I understand it, has been preoccupied with some special problems in his missile cruisers lately."
"That's not what Admiral Palmer says, General. He was not notified of certain meetings of the Joint Chiefs. That is certainly highly unusual."
"I gather that Admiral Palmer, as well as Colonel Casey, has been voicing complaints. The Navy and Marines seem to be doing some talking out of channels-from lieutenants junior grade clear up to flag rank."
Lyman offered no response to this, but went to the next point on his list. Scott waited tranquilly.
"You and General Riley made a visit to General Garlock's home Tuesday night," Lyman said.
"Yes, we did. We wanted to make sure everything was in shape at Mount Thunder for the alert."
"And to make arrangements for bivouacking some special troops there Saturday?"
"I take it I have been followed all week." Scott ignored Lyman's question.
"I'd like an answer, General."
"First I'd like to know why the President of the United States feels it necessary to follow the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff like a common criminal," Scott said.
"You will answer my question, General."
"Not until you answer mine, Mr. President."
Scott stood up, towering above the seated President. He held his cigar between thumb and forefinger and pointed it accusingly at Lyman.
"I don't propose to stay in this room and be questioned any further." Command authority rang out like a chisel on granite. "I will not resign and I will answer no more questions. But I intend to say a few things, Mr. President."
Lyman felt inadequate and puny sitting under this tall, imposing officer who held a cigar pointed at him like a weapon. The President stood up and took a step forward, putting the two men on more equal physical terms as they stood facing each other, no more than two feet apart. Scott kept on talking.
"The information put together yesterday morning by the National Indications Center, and reported to both of us by Mr. Lieberman, substantiates all the misgivings of the Joint Chiefs," he said. "We told you time and time again that the Russians would never adhere to the spirit of the treaty. And we emphasized until we were blue in the face that it was folly to sign a document which left a clear loophole-namely, that one country or the other could assemble warheads in one place as fast as it took them apart in another under the eyes of the neutral inspectors. The United States, of course, would never do that. But the Russians would-and they are doing precisely that."
"I know all that as well as you do, General." Lyman began to feel old and tired again, as weary as he had been all week until Henry Whitney's sudden appearance that afternoon.
"I must say further, Mr. President, that it borders on criminal negligence not to take some immediate action. If you persist in that path, I shall have no recourse as a patriotic American but to go to the country with the facts."
"You refuse to resign, but you would do something that would assure your removal," Lyman commented. Scott said nothing.
"Well," the President went on defiantly, "I have moved. But something just as important to this country-perhaps more important-has to be settled first."
"Meaning what?"
"I think you know, General."
"I have no more idea of what you mean by that than I have concerning a dozen other things you have said tonight."
Lyman stared quizzically at Scott. "General," he asked, "what would you have done with Saul Lieberman's information if you had been President yesterday?"