The chimes could be heard in the hotel suite’s foyer. Vicarson involuntarily patted down his perpetually rumpled hair and buttoned his jacket. «I’ll get the door. Maybe they’ll think I’m the butler; that’d be fine.»
The first ten minutes were like an eighteenth-century pavane, thought Trevayne. Slow, graceful, assured; essentially chartered, fundamentally ancient. Sam Vicarson was doing very well, Andy considered, watching the youthful attorney parry Aaron Green’s thrusts of solicitousness, which barely concealed his annoyance. Green was angry that Vicarson was present; Hamilton barely acknowledged Sam’s presence. For Hamilton, thought Trevayne, it was a time for giants; a subordinate was relegated to his properly unimportant status.
«I think you should realize, Trevayne, when your friends on the National Committee made their choice known to us, we were bitterly disappointed,» said Ian Hamilton.
«‘Shocked’ is more accurate,» added Green in his deep, resonant voice.
«Yes,» said Andy flatly. «I’d like to discuss your reaction. It’s one of the things I’m interested in. Except they’re not my friends… I was wondering if they were yours, frankly.»
Hamilton smiled. The anglicized attorney crossed his legs and folded his arms, sinking back into the soft cushions of the velvet sofa—the picture of elegance. Aaron Green had a hard-backed armchair next to Trevayne. Sam Vicarson sat slightly outside the triangle, at Andy’s right but not in line with Trevayne’s view of Hamilton. Even the seating arrangements seemed orchestrated to Andy. And then he realized that Sam had accomplished it; Sam Vicarson had indicated the places for each of them to sit. Sam was better than he thought he was, mused Trevayne.
«If you’re considering the possibility that you are our choice,» said Hamilton, still smiling benignly, «I think I can disabuse you.»
«How?»
«Quite simply, we favor the President. A perusal of our … combined contributions, both financial and otherwise, will substantiate that fact.»
«Then I wouldn’t have your support under any conditions.»
«I should think not, speaking candidly,» replied Hamilton.
Suddenly Andrew got out of his chair and returned Hamilton’s noningratiating smile. «Then, gentlemen, I’ve made a mistake, and I apologize. I’m wasting your time.»
The abruptness of Trevayne’s move startled the others, including Sam Vicarson. Hamilton was the first to recover.
«Come, Mr. Trevayne, let’s not play those games, which, if I remember correctly, you detest so… Circumstances dictate that we meet with you. Please sit down.»
Andrew did so. «What are those circumstances?»
Aaron Green spoke. «The President does not intend to seek a second term.»
«He might change his mind,» said Trevayne.
«He can’t,» said Hamilton. «He wouldn’t live it out. I tell you this in the strictest confidence.»
Andrew was stunned. «I didn’t know that. I thought it was a personal choice.»
«What’s more personal?» asked Green.
«You know what I mean… That’s terrible.»
«So … we meet.» Green ended the topic of the President’s health. «Circumstances dictate.»
Trevayne was still thinking of the ill man in the White House while Hamilton continued.
«As I say, we were disappointed. Not that the idea of your candidacy is without merit; it’s not. But, frankly, all things considered, we favor the President’s party.»
«That’s a non sequitur. Why should my candidacy concern you at all, then? The opposition has good men.»
«It has the President’s men,» interrupted Green.
«I don’t understand.»
«The President»—Hamilton paused, choosing his words carefully—«as any man who has completed half a job that will be judged by history, is vitally concerned that his programs be continued. He will dictate the choice of his successor. He’ll pick one of two men because they will consent to his dictates. The Vice President or the Governor of New York. In conscience, we cannot support either. Neither has the strength of his own convictions; only the President’s. They can’t win, and they shouldn’t.»
«A lesson. A lesson was learned,» said Green, sitting forward, his hands poised pontifically. «In sixty-eight, Hubert didn’t lose to Nixon because he was the lesser man, or because of money, or the issues. He lost the election with four words whined into the television after his nomination. ‘Thank you, Mr. President.’ He never washed away those four words.»
Trevayne reached into his pocket for a cigarette, lighting it while no one spoke. «So you’ve concluded that the President will ensure the defeat of his own party.»
«Precisely,» replied Hamilton. «That is our dilemma. One man’s vanity. The opposition has only to mount an attractive candidate, accentuate his strength of character—his independence, if you will—and the nationwide gossip will take care of the rest. The electorate has a visceral instinct about puppets.»
«Then you think I have a legitimate chance?»
«Reluctantly,» answered Green. «You haven’t much competition. Who else is there? In the Senate, the party has old men who tremble as I do, or loud-mouthed brats who soil their bell-bottom trousers. Only Knapp has possibilities, but he’s so obnoxious he’d be buried. The House is filled with nonentities. A few big governors might give you a run, but they carry the urban messes on their backs… Yes, Mr. Andrew Trevayne; Mr. Undersecretary in State Department, Mr. Millionaire, Mr. Foundation President, Mr. Subcommittee Chairman. You’ve got a lot of marbles… You could fall down on the issue of elective office, but you would get picked right up again on comparisons. The National Committee boys knew what they were doing when they pulled your name out. They don’t like losers.»
«And neither do we,» concluded Ian Hamilton. «So whether we like it or not, you’re a political reality.»
Trevayne once again got up, breaking the triangle. He walked to the room-service table, picked up the thick red leather notebook, and returned, standing several feet behind his chair. «I’m not sure your assessment is accurate, gentlemen, but it’s as good a springboard as any I can think of for what I have to say… This is the subcommittee report. It will be delivered to the Defense Commission, the President, and the designated congressional committees in five days. The report itself has been boiled down to six hundred and fifty pages, with four volumes of subsequent documentations. Of the report, over three hundred pages are devoted to Genessee Industries. And two volumes of documentation… Now, I understand your ‘bitter disappointment’ at the prospect of my candidacy. I don’t like you; I don’t approve of what you’ve done, and I intend to see you put out of business. Simple? Capisce? As one of your departed colleagues might have said.»
«He was no part of us!» interrupted Aaron Green angrily.
«You allowed him; it’s the same thing.»
«What’s your point? I believe I smell a compromise,» said Hamilton.
«You do. But not your kind of compromise; you don’t come out with anything. Except, perhaps, the comfort of knowing you can spend the rest of your lives outside the courts—and outside the country.»
«What?» Hamilton’s complacency was replaced with his first hint of anger.
«You are a ridiculous man, Mr. Subcommittee!» added Green.
«Not really. But the word ‘ridiculous’ is well chosen, if not correctly applied.» Trevayne walked back to the linen-covered table and threw the notebook carelessly on top.
Hamilton spoke firmly. «Let’s talk sense, Trevayne. Your report is damaging; we won’t bother to deny it. However, it is—or certainly must be—riddled with speculations, inconclusive conjectures. Do you think for one minute we’re not prepared for that?»