got out. But it’s grist for our mills.’
The senator opened an expensive leather briefcase and took out a sheaf of papers and handed them to Oliver. ‘These are the people you’ll be dealing with here in Kentucky. They’re powerful men and women, but they all have Achilles’ heels.’ He grinned. ‘The mayor has an Achilles’ high heel. He’s a transvestite.’
Oliver was scanning the papers, wide-eyed.
‘You keep those locked up, you hear? That’s pure gold.’
‘Don’t worry, Todd. I’ll be careful.’
‘And, son – don’t put too much pressure on those people when you need something from them. Don’t break them – just bend them a little.’ He studied Oliver a moment. ‘How are you and Jan getting along?’
‘Great,’ Oliver said quickly. It was true, in a sense. As far as Oliver was concerned, it was a marriage of convenience, and he was careful to see that he did nothing to disrupt it. He would never forget what his earlier indiscretion had almost cost him.
‘That’s fine. Jan’s happiness is very important to me.’ It was a warning.
‘For me, as well,’ Oliver said.
‘By the way, how do you like Peter Tager?’
Oliver said enthusiastically, ‘I like him a lot. He’s been a tremendous help to me.’
Senator Davis nodded. ‘I’m glad to hear that. You won’t find anyone better. I’m going to lend him to you, Oliver. He can smooth a lot of paths for you.’
Oliver grinned. ‘Great. I really appreciate that.’
Senator Davis rose. ‘Well, I have to get back to Washington. You let me know if you need anything.’
‘Thanks, Todd. I will.’
On the Sunday after his meeting with Senator Davis, Oliver tried to find Peter Tager.
‘He’s in church, Governor.’
‘Right. I forgot. I’ll see him tomorrow.’
Peter Tager went to church every Sunday with his family, and attended a two-hour prayer meeting three times a week. In a way, Oliver envied him. He’s probably the only truly happy man I’ve ever known, he thought.
On Monday morning, Tager came into Oliver’s office. ‘You wanted to see me, Oliver?’
‘I need a favor. It’s personal.’
Peter nodded. ‘Anything I can do.’
‘I need an apartment.’
Tager glanced around the large room in mock disbelief. ‘This place is too small for you, Governor?’
‘No.’ Oliver looked into Tager’s one good eye. ‘Sometimes I have private meetings at night. They have to be discreet. You know what I mean?’
There was an uncomfortable pause. ‘Yes.’
‘I want someplace away from the center of town. Can you handle that for me?’
‘I guess so.’
‘This is just between us, of course.’
Peter Tager nodded, unhappily.
One hour later, Tager telephoned Senator Davis in Washington.
‘Oliver asked me to rent an apartment for him, Senator. Something discreet.’
‘Did he now? Well, he’s learning, Peter. He’s learning. Do it. Just make damned sure Jan never hears about it.’ The senator was thoughtful for a moment. ‘Find him a place out in Indian Hills. Someplace with a private entrance.’
‘But it’s not right for him to –’
‘Peter – just do it.’
The solution to Leslie’s problem had come in two disparate items in the Lexington Herald-Leader. The first was a long, flattering editorial praising Governor Oliver Russell. The last line read, ‘None of us here in Kentucky who knows him will be surprised when one day Oliver Russell becomes President of the United States.’
The item on the next page read: ‘Henry Chambers, a former Lexington resident, whose horse Lightning won the Kentucky Derby five years ago, and Jessica, his third wife, have divorced. Chambers, who now lives in Phoenix, is the owner and publisher of the Phoenix Star.’
The power of the press. That was real power. Katharine Graham and her Washington Post had destroyed a president.
And that was when the idea jelled.
Leslie had spent the next two days doing research on Henry Chambers. The Internet had some interesting information on him. Chambers was a fifty-five-year-old philanthropist who had inherited a tobacco fortune and had devoted most of his life to giving it away. But it was not his money that interested Leslie.
It was the fact that he owned a newspaper and that he had just gotten a divorce.
Half an hour after her meeting with Senator Davis, Leslie walked into Jim Bailey’s office. ‘I’m leaving, Jim.’
He looked at her sympathetically. ‘Of course. You need a vacation. When you come back, we can –’
‘I’m not coming back.’
‘What? I – I don’t want you to go, Leslie. Running away won’t solve –’
‘I’m not running away.’
‘You’ve made up your mind?’
‘Yes.’
‘We’re going to hate to lose you. When do you want to leave?’
‘I’ve already left.’
Leslie Stewart had given a lot of thought to the various ways in which she could meet Henry Chambers. There were endless possibilities, but she discarded them one by one. What she had in mind had to be planned very carefully. And then she had thought of Senator Davis. Davis and Chambers had the same background, traveled in the same circles. The two men would certainly know each other. That was when Leslie had decided to call the senator.
When Leslie arrived at Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix, on an impulse, she walked over to the newsstand in the terminal. She bought a copy of the Phoenix Star and scanned it. No luck. She bought the Arizona Republic, and then the Phoenix Gazette, and there it was, the astrological column by Zoltaire. Not that I believe in astrology. I’m much too intelligent for that nonsense. But …
FOR LEO (JULY 23rd to AUGUST 22nd). JUPITER IS JOINING YOUR SUN. ROMANTIC PLANS MADE NOW WILL BE FULFILLED. EXCELLENT
