Trevayne threw the arms off him and raced to the desk. When one of the detectives came up behind him, he did something he wouldn’t have thought he was capable of doing. He slammed his fist into the man’s neck. The detective fell backward as his fellow officer withdrew a pistol.
Simultaneously, the frightened clerk behind the desk spoke hysterically.
«Here, sir! Trevayne! Mrs. A. Trevayne. Suite Five H and I! The reservation was made this afternoon!»
Trevayne didn’t think about the man behind him. He ran to the door marked «Stairs» and raced up the concrete steps. He knew the detective followed; the shouts came at him to stop, but he refused. It was only necessary to reach a suite at the Plaza Hotel marked «Five H and I.»
He pushed his full weight into the corridor door and emerged on the thin rug that bespoke of better times. The doors in front of him read «Five A,» then «B,» then «Five C and D.» He rounded the corner and the letters stared him in the face.
«H and I.»
The door was locked, and he threw himself against it. It gave only slightly under his weight. Trevayne moved back several feet and slammed the heel of his foot against the lock area.
It cracked, but did not open.
By now the winded, middle-aged house detective approached.
«You goddamn son-of-a-bitch! I could have shot you! Now, get away from there or I will!»
«You will not! My wife’s in there!»
The strident urgency of Trevayne’s command had its effect. The detective looked at the panicked husband and lent his own foot to Trevayne’s next assault. The door came off the upper left hinge, crashing down obliquely into the short foyer. Trevayne and the detective rushed into the room.
The detective saw what he had to see and turned away. He’d seen it before. He’d wait in the doorframe, both eyes on the husband, to make sure there was no violence.
Phyllis Trevayne was naked in the white sheets of the bed; the covers were at the foot, lumped as if thrown off carelessly. On the night table, on the left side, was a bottle of Drambuie, two glasses half-full.
On Phyllis Trevayne’s breasts were lipstick marks. Phalluses outlined toward the nipples.
The detective assumed that somebody had had a ball. He hoped to Christ the third party had left the premises.
Goddamn fool if he hadn’t.
Phyllis Trevayne sat up in the bed drinking coffee, wrapped in towels. The doctor had finished his examination and motioned to Trevayne to come into the other room.
«I’d say a very powerful sedative, Mr. Trevayne. A Mickey Finn, if you like. There won’t be much aftereffect, perhaps a headache, upset stomach.»
«Was she … was she assaulted?»
«Debatable, without a more thorough examination than I can perform here. If she was, it was a struggle; I don’t believe there was penetration… But I think an attempt was made, I won’t disguise that.»
«She’s not aware of the … attempt, is she?»
«I’m sorry. Only she can answer that.»
«Thank you, doctor.»
Trevayne returned to the front room of the suite and took his wife’s hand, kneeling down beside her.
«You’re a rough old lady, you know that?»
«Andy?» Phyllis Trevayne looked at her husband calmly, but with a fear he rightfully had never seen before. «Whoever it was tried to rape me. I remember that.»
«I’m glad you do. He didn’t.»
«I don’t think so… Why, Andy, why?»
«I don’t know, Phyl. But I’m going to find out.»
«Where were you?»
«In a traffic accident. At least, I thought it was an accident. I’m not sure now.»
«What are we going to do?»
«Not we, Phyl. Me. I have to reach a man in Washington. I don’t want any part of them.»
«I don’t understand you.»
«Neither do I, really. But I think there’s a connection.»
«The President’s in Camp David, Mr. Trevayne. I’m sorry, it wouldn’t be convenient to reach him now. What’s the matter?»
Trevayne told Robert Webster what had happened to his wife. The presidential aide was speechless.
«Did you hear what I said?»
«Yes… Yes, I did. It’s horrible.»
«Is that all you can say? Do you know what the President and Hill told me last week?»
«I have a good idea. The chief and I discussed it; I explained that.»
«Is this connected? I want to know if this is part of it! I have a right to know!»
«I can’t answer you. I don’t think he could, either. You’re at the Plaza? I’ll call you back in a few minutes.»
Webster hung up, and Andrew Trevayne held the disconnected telephone in his grip. They could all go screw!
The Senate hearing was scheduled for two-thirty the next afternoon, and he’d tell them all to go to hell! Phyllis was no part of the bargain! It was one thing to go after him; he could handle that. Not his family. He’d level those bastards at two-thirty tomorrow as they’d never been leveled! And he’d hold a press conference afterward. He’d let the whole goddamn country know what kind of pigs inhabited a town called Washington, D.C.! He didn’t need it! He was Andrew Trevayne!
He replaced the telephone in its cradle and walked over to the hotel bed. Phyllis was asleep. He sat down on a chair and stroked her hair. She moved slightly, started to open her eyes, and then shut them again. She’d been through so much. And now this!
The telephone rang, its bell causing him to jerk his head up, frightened, furious.
He ran to it.
«Trevayne! It’s the President. I’ve just heard. How’s your wife?»
«Asleep, sir.» Trevayne was amazed at himself. In the midst of his anguish he still found the presence of mind to say «Sir.»
«Christ, boy! I haven’t any words! What can I say to you? What can I do?»
«Release me, Mr. President. Because if you don’t, I’m going to have a great deal to say tomorrow afternoon. Inside the hearing and out.»
«Of course, Andrew. It goes without saying.» The President of the United States paused before speaking further. «She’s all right? Your wife is all right?»
«Yes, sir… It was a … terror tactic, I guess. An obscene … obscene thing.» Trevayne had to hold his breath. He was afraid of the words that might come out of his mouth.
«Trevayne, listen to me. Andrew, listen! You may never forgive me for what I am about to say to you. If you feel strong enough, I’ll accept the consequences and expect your roughest condemnation tomorrow. I won’t rebut you … But you must think now. With your head. I’ve had to do it hundreds of times—granted, not like this—but, nevertheless, when it hurt badly… The country knows you’ve been chosen. The hearing is only a formality now. If you tell them to shove it up their ass, how are you going to do it without paining your wife further?… Don’t you see? This is exactly what they want!»
Trevayne took a deep breath and replied evenly. «I have no intention of paining my wife further or of allowing any part of you to touch us. I don’t need you, Mr. President. Do I make myself clear?»
«You certainly do. And I agree with you completely. But I have a problem. I need you. I said it would be ugly …»
Ugly! Ugly! That goddamn terrible word!
«Yes, ugly!» Trevayne roared viciously into the telephone.
The President continued as if Trevayne had not shouted. «I think you should think about what’s happened… If it can happen to you, and by all our estimates you’re one of the better ones, think what can happen to others… Are we to stop? Is that what we should do?»