Hot Pursuit

5

Salton led the way to the stairs. “We’ll walk down,” he said. “By the way, there’s a lovely roof garden above us, but it won’t open until spring.” They didn’t pause at the fourth floor. “There are some rooms here, which are sometimes used by out-of-town members — or members who have found their domestic arrangements temporarily inhospitable.”

“Are there women members?”

“About twenty percent of us,” Salton said, “and the number is growing. Kate Lee is among them, elected many years ago, as is our future first gentleman.”

They came to the dining room, which, at that hour, was thinly populated. Stone spotted a couple of familiar faces there, lingering over coffee.

Another floor down and they entered the most beautiful library Stone had ever seen, paneled in American walnut with white accents and two stories of bound volumes. “We have a very fine collection of American history,” Salton said, “including some volumes from Jefferson’s library.” They continued past the first floor and emerged into a garage, albeit a very elegant one.

“I didn’t notice the garage door when I entered,” Stone said.

“The garage extends into the building next door, where our administrative staff are located and which provides the entry for cars. We find it convenient, because driving in means that members won’t be seen to come and go so often. We wouldn’t like to encourage curiosity.” They approached a slightly stretched Lincoln town car, where a chauffeur stood with the rear door open. “Come,” Salton said, “I’ll give you a lift home.”

They got into the car, and Stone found it had a non-standard interior of tan Nappa leather and burled walnut.

“I can’t be seen in a Bentley or a Mercedes,” Salton explained, “so I bought an old town car and had it renovated. There are so many in the city, no one notices.”

They drove up a ramp to street level, and Stone noticed that there were two garage doors: one closed behind them before the other opened to the street. Now, that was discreet, he thought.

“The building is open twenty-four hours a day,” Salton said, handing him a gold key. “This will get you in between midnight and six AM, should you feel the need for a quiet drink or just to remove yourself from the world for a few hours.” He reached into a compartment, withdrew a handsome envelope, and handed it to Stone. “This will tell you something of our history and perhaps mention a few of those unwritten rules. If you wish to bring a guest, call the front desk and book a dining room on the fifth floor. It’s a privilege best used rarely.”

The Lincoln drew up at Stone’s front door. “Would you like to come in for another cup of coffee?” Stone asked.

“I’d love to another time, but I’m expected downtown for a meeting,” Salton said. He handed Stone a card. “Here are my private numbers in both New York and Washington, along with my Georgetown address. Drinks at six on Inauguration Day, dinner early. If you decide you won’t attend the ball, there’ll be entertainment at the house.”

“Thank you, Senator,” Stone said, shaking his hand.

“From now on it’s Ev,” Salton replied. “We’re very happy to have you among our number.”

“I look forward to it,” Stone said. He got out of the car, and it drove away. He entered the house through his office door.

“Good afternoon,” his secretary, Joan, said as he walked past her office. “Would you like your messages, or would you prefer a nap?”

Stone took the pink slips from her hand. “I’m wide awake, thank you.” He handed Joan the senator’s card. “Put all these numbers into the system, please.” The system would populate his iPad and his iPhone, as well.

“Oh, was he your lunch date?”

“He was.”

“He’s such a handsome man,” she said. “And so well spoken.”

“He’s all of that and more,” Stone said, and went into his office. Dino’s call was first. He dialed the private number.

“Hello, new boy,” he said.

“You son of a bitch,” Stone said. “You never said a word about it.”

“That’s because I know how to keep my mouth shut,” Dino replied, “when it’s desirable to do so. You should work on that.”

“How long have you been a member?”

“I guess that’s not classified: since shortly before I made commissioner. By the way, I was having lunch with Mike Freeman next door, while you and Ev were talking. He’s very pleased to be among us.”

“So am I,” Stone said.

“It’s a good place to lunch when you’re alone,” Dino said. “There’s a big table where the stags sit. You’ll meet some interesting people.”

“That’s good to know. Ev didn’t mention it.”

“There’s too much to mention in one lunch. Did you like the guy?”

“Very much. He seemed very like what I thought he’d be. He invited us all to dinner inaugural night.”

“I know.”

“Tell me, Dino, have you been much put upon for favors from other members?”

“Hardly ever,” Dino said. “That’s frowned upon, unless a member has invited you to call upon him. I try not to offer that courtesy to many people. Listen, I gotta run — speaking date.”

“Talk to you later.”

His next call was to Holly Barker.

“Well, hi there,” she said. “Are we still on for the inaugural?”

“You bet your sweet ass we are. And you should wear that green dress you bought in Paris. It’s perfect for a ball.”

“How’d you guess?”

“Oh, and we have a dinner invitation before the ball: Senator and Mrs. Everett Salton, at their house in Georgetown.”

“That sounds very grand.”

“It should be.”

“I have some news, but I’m sitting on it until we’re in D.C.,” she said.

“You’re being secretive.”

“I’m secretive for a living, remember?”

“Well, there is that.”

“I’ll send Fred to pick you up: Home or office?”

“What time?”

“Ten AM?”

“Oh, home, I guess. How much luggage can I bring?”

“As much as you need, and not a bit more.”

“Oh, shoot, I wanted to bring a selection of things.”

“Select before you pack.”

“If I have to.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Bye.”

Stone hung up and made his other calls. Finally, he got to Pat Frank and dialed the number she had left.

“Hello?”

“It’s Stone.”

“How was your lunch?”

“Very interesting. First time I’ve had lunch with a senator. How was your move-in?”

“Not bad. I had the movers take everything out of the boxes and then take them away. I’m already half done with putting things away. When do you leave for Washington?” He had told her about the trip.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Need a copilot?”

“I’ve got to fly the thing alone sometime — when better than when a thousand other private airplanes are simultaneously diving on the capital?”

“Try not to bump into any.”

“You betcha. I’ll be back in a few days. I’ll call you.”

“You’ll be only one of a hundred clients by then.”

“Yeah, but I’ll still be the first, and deserving of special attention.”

“And special attention you will get.”

He hung up laughing.