Talley sniffed. “Great, Arthur, I know that. You know that. Maybe every schoolboy knows that. But does our new Mr. President know that?”
“He may. If he does not understand delegation of power, I think he will come to understand it within a week.”
“I wish I could be as sure of that as you, Arthur. We’re not dealing with an ordinary man. We’re dealing with a colored man, the product of a race that’s been pushed around for a century or more, and is used to being told what to do, and resents it. You give someone like that power, the power to do the pushing, and he may not want to let go of one inch of it. He can ruin us.”
Eaton was briefly preoccupied. At last he looked up. “You may be right. On the other hand, it is quite possible that his color, the history of his racial background, can work to our benefit. Based on what I know of his performance on Capitol Hill, he is a timid and uncertain man, a good listener, orthodox and agreeable in every way. Last night I asked Senator Selander to read me Dilman’s voting record for this last session. He went along with T. C. and the Party on every piece of major legislation. I think that augurs well for all of us.”
“Arthur, he wasn’t President of the United States then.”
“No, but now that he is, he may be more frightened and eager for our help than ever before. At least, I choose to think so. I cannot fire up enthusiasm for those extremist challenges and measures being proposed to void Dilman’s Presidency or to hamper him if he legally remains our President. I see no reason to antagonize him, where there is no shred of evidence that he will be uncooperative. I believe we must make him see matters as T. C. saw them and would have acted upon them in the future. If we succeed, it’ll be a certainty that we will survive the rest of the term unscathed. And I think the time to begin our guidance is right now, from this moment onward.” He pointed to the sheet of paper in Talley’s hand. “Tell me what is on Dilman’s agenda.”
Still troubled, Talley sat on the edge of the sofa, and consulted the scribblings on the sheet of paper he held before him. “Let me see-umm-he signed the proclamation for T. C.’s funeral and the period of national mourning last night, didn’t he? Yes, I remember. Well, now, he’ll have to go over and meet the funeral plane tomorrow.”
“I wish Grover Illingsworth would take care of that,” said Eaton. Then he added, “Anyway, let him make arrangements for the procession, the services in the White House, and the funeral itself. He’s the best Chief of Protocol we’ve ever had, but he’s even better at-at delicate affairs like this. I’ve already packed him off in T. C.’s jet to bring Hesper back from Arizona.”
Talley brought his head up sharply. “What about Hesper? Should Dilman see her?”
Eaton did not reply at once. He thought of Hesper, T. C.’s gracious wife, now a widow, with one fatherless son, isolated in the summer home in Phoenix. He had already spoken to her. She was taking it courageously, as might be expected of a woman of her background. Like his own Kay, she was Social Register and independently wealthy, but unlike his own Kay, she was well-balanced and friendly. Passionately devoted to her child, her numerous charities, she would survive her loss well. “I don’t know, Wayne,” Eaton said. “Perhaps Dilman should pay his respects to the First Lady, but I think it would be uncomfortable for both of them. We have a day or two. Let me think about it.” He waved his hand at Talley’s notes. “Let’s go on.”
“He has to swear in the White House staff-”
“This afternoon.”
“-and fill some sudden vacancies, mostly female secretaries, Southern.”
“I see. Fine, Edna can begin screening applicants.”
Talley went back to his notes. “Tim Flannery says the press reports show considerable concern. The country’s had a bad jolt.” He looked up. “Maybe it would allay everyone’s fear if they could have a look at him, see that he’s harmless. I thought we could prepare a short, rather self-effacing speech for him, and put him on the television networks-”
“No,” said Eaton firmly. “Too soon. His appearance might inflame rather than soothe. Let’s try to keep him out of sight for a while, let the country know that even under Dilman the government has not been disrupted, that business is going on as usual.”
“What about letting him address a Joint Session of Congress? Truman did it after F. D. R.’s death.”
“He did it over his colleagues’ protests. No, Wayne, I don’t like that either. I still say keep him close to his desk for a while, until everyone settles down.”
“Well-”
“Arrange to have him lunch tomorrow with selected leaders of the Senate and House.”
“Excellent,” said Talley, making a note of it. “What about the Cabinet? Shall I summon all hands for a meeting today?”
Eaton shook his head. “Not today. Not tomorrow, either.”
“Won’t it look funny if he doesn’t-”
Eaton licked his lower lip. “I do not want him running a Cabinet meeting until we’ve had a chance to brief him thoroughly. We’ve first got to inform Dilman of T. C.’s desires, wishes, plans. Then he will know how to handle himself.” He sat up straight. “I’ll tell you what to do, Wayne-beginning this afternoon, and during the next few days, have the various Cabinet members drop in on courtesy calls, but make sure none of them discusses business. As to Dilman, for his part he must request each one to remain in office and to serve him as each served T. C.”
“What if he objects or has reservations?”
“He won’t resist, Wayne. He doesn’t know them, and he does need a knowledgeable Cabinet at once. He hasn’t had time to consider anyone else. Oh yes, be sure to remind him that after F. D. R. died, Harry Truman did just this, asked each member of Roosevelt’s Cabinet to stay on. And Lyndon Johnson did the same. Very well, what next?”
“At least a dozen ambassadors have applied this morning for appointments. Ambassador Rudenko wants to discuss resumption of the Roemer Conference-”
“I’ll see him myself.”
“Then the Ambassador from Baraza, Nnamdi Wamba, is most anxious-”
“I’ll have Jed Stover stall him. I’m flying someone over to Baraza tomorrow to sit down with President Amboko. I want to do what T. C. was intending to do-pave the way for a settlement with the Russians by making the Africans ease upon their Communists in return for our ratifying the African Unity Pact. I want to feel Amboko out. When we are ready, we can tell Dilman how to behave with the Barazans.”
“Then the Indian Ambassador and-”
“Limit them to courtesy calls, too. No official business until next week. Is that enough to keep Dilman occupied?”
Talley nodded. “Of course, but there’s-”
The knocking on the door behind them made both of them turn. “Yes?” Talley called out.
The door opened and Edna Foster poked her head into the room. “Secretary Eaton, since it’s personal, I thought, rather than buzz-there’s a call from Miami Beach for you. It’s Mrs. Eaton. Can you take it now?”
Eaton hesitated and then quickly said, “Yes, certainly. Thank you, Miss Foster.”
“Line two, please,” Edna said, and closed the door.
Eaton rose stiffly from the sofa and crossed to the telephone.
“Arthur, if you’d like to be alone-” Talley called after him.
“Stay where you are.”
“Eaton punched a plastic key on the telephone and brought the receiver to his ear. “Kay dear, how are you?”
He listened to her soprano mockery of his greeting. “ ‘Kay dear, how are you?’ Oh, my, somebody should hear you. They’d think you had just come off the tennis court. How do you do it, Arthur? How do you stand calm and collected in a massacre? I thought you’d be in the middle of a wake, at least, beating your breast and loaded to the gills over your poor T. C. Doesn’t anything drive you to drink, Arthur?”