Cut and Thrust

21

Stone hosted Kate and Ann for lunch on his poolside patio. Ann had billed it as a strategy session.

“Whew!” Kate said, blowing upward to clear her forehead of a strand of hair.

“Is Ann working you too hard?” Stone asked.

“When Will was running I met a lot of people, but that was nothing compared to now. I’m having to soak my hand in ice water to keep the swelling down.”

“How do you feel about the way things are going?” Stone asked.

“If all I needed was the goodwill of the delegates I’ve met, I’d feel very confident,” she said. “Unfortunately, I’m not the only one seeking their votes and most of them are already committed, barring a second ballot.”

“If you had it to do over, would you start earlier and enter the primaries?”

Kate thought about it. “No, I don’t think so. I think I’ve done the right thing almost by accident.”

“How by accident?”

“I had thought about doing it last year and going through the whole process and decided against it. Then, months later, over dinner, Will said something to me about it not being too late. I had been thinking about life after the White House. And if Will hadn’t said that at that moment, it wouldn’t have occurred to me that I might have a chance if I got in late.”

“What did he say?”

“He said the field had been narrowed to three candidates and all of them were making credible showings, so the chances of one of them winning on the first ballot were slim.”

“He didn’t think at that point that Marty Stanton would make it?”

“He thought Marty could, but he also thought there was a very good chance that he’d get caught with his pants down and implode. Well, he got caught, but the implosion isn’t complete yet, so he could still win.”

“What does Sam Meriwether think the count is?”

“Marty needs a hundred and thirty-five delegates out of two seventy to win on the first ballot and he has about a hundred and thirty-two. Willingham has about eighty-one and Otero has maybe fifty.”

“And how many do you have, Kate?”

“We’re figuring none.”

“But surely—”

“Most of the people who would vote for me on the first ballot are from primary states and are committed to the man who won their states, and by the time I got in, the others were pretty much committed. Sam thinks it’s better if we work on a worst-case basis, and that’s no delegates for me. I’ve no chance unless Marty fails to get a hundred and thirty-five. Then we’ll see.”

“I have to admit,” Stone said, “it seems impossible.”

“That’s what we want everybody to think,” Ann said, “until tomorrow night.”

“Well, yes.”

“Pete Otero hasn’t called you,” Ann said. “I find that odd that he wouldn’t want your support.”

“Pete knows he isn’t going to win the nomination, so he doesn’t need my support,” Kate said. “I’m sure that both Marty and Willingham have already met with him and I expect they’ve both offered him the vice president’s slot on the ticket. He’s smart not to commit. If he made the wrong move, then he’d miss eight years of being vice president, then a really good shot at the presidency. And if whoever gets the nomination loses in the general, Pete is first in line for the nomination four years from now. Remember Jack Kennedy at the 1956 election? He thought he’d get the vice president slot on the ticket, but Adlai Stevenson threw him a curve ball when he threw the vice presidential nomination open to the convention and Estes Kefauver won. But by that time Jack was as well known to the electorate as almost anybody in the party, and when Adlai lost, the nomination was wide open to him in 1960. Pete has patience and it may work well for him.”

They ate their lunch talking mostly about everything but the convention. Stone saw Kate relaxing and he thought the change of subject probably did her good.

They were done with lunch and on coffee when the telephone buzzed and Stone answered.

“Telephone for Mrs. Lee,” Manolo said.

“Who’s calling?”

“They wouldn’t say.”

Stone pressed the hold button. “Mystery call for you, Kate. Do you want to take it?”

“Who would know you were here?” Ann said.

“Let’s find out,” Kate replied. She took the phone and pressed the button. “Kate Lee. Good morning — or afternoon, as it may be.” She listened for a moment. “All right, I agree — not even Will.” She listened some more. “How sure are you about this? Thank you for calling.” She hung up.

No one said anything for a long moment.

“Who was it?” Ann asked finally.

“I’m sorry, I can’t say,” Kate said. She drank the last of her coffee. “Will you excuse me, please? I think I want to go and lie down for a little while. And, Ann, please cancel the rest of today’s schedule.”

Ann’s face fell. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t think it will matter,” Kate said and got to her feet.

They stood with her.

“Thank you so much for lunch, Stone,” she said, then she walked toward the presidential cottage, and the two Secret Service agents standing a few yards away fell in a few paces behind her.

“What do you suppose that was all about?” Stone asked.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Ann replied. “Did you see her face? It had to be bad news if she canceled her schedule. She had half a dozen appointments with delegates this afternoon.”

“She certainly didn’t seem elated.”

“Somehow,” Ann said, “I have the feeling that the bottom has just dropped out of her world.”