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Carla came back to Stone’s house in time for dinner. She showered and changed, then they went to Patroon, where they were meeting Dino and Viv Bacchetti.

When they were settled at a table and had a drink in hand, Carla spoke up. “I’ve been at a meeting all day, listening to the tape of the Georgetown meeting of Henry Carson and his cohorts and hearing the report from Strategic Services on their voice analysis of the attendees.”

“And what was the verdict?”

“They positively identified the voices of everyone who said anything audible at the meeting, by comparing them with recordings from congressional hearings and press conferences. They are nailed! There’ll be three pages in tomorrow’s paper, including a transcript of the meeting, and it will be on the Times wire tonight, to all the major newspapers in the country.”

“That’s great news, Carla,” Stone said, “and great reporting.”

Carla took a gulp of her martini. “Thank God for Evan Hills,” she said. “All we had to do was confirm everything he said, and the tape was the final nail in the coffin.”

“What do you expect the result of all this will be?” Viv asked.

“Great embarrassment for the Republicans in Congress, but I’m not sure how long that will last. The next election is two years away, so they’ll have time to paper over the story. You watch: pretty soon they’ll be calling it old news and playing the blame game every time they get a question about it.”

“The minority leader apparently took it harder than just being embarrassed,” Dino said.

“I can’t figure that out,” Carla replied. “He wasn’t the type to blow his brains out over a thing like this — he was very good at brazening his way through any embarrassment.”

“So you think it was a homicide?”

“That’s what’s so crazy about it,” Carla said. “How could anybody get into the Capitol with a gun, then walk into the House cloakroom, shoot a congressman, walk away? It seems impossible.”

“Somebody with the right credentials,” Viv said. “Somebody who wouldn’t get noticed. A staffer? Another congressman? A Democrat, perhaps.”

She laughed. “Your guess is as good as mine. The Capitol Police and the FBI are all over it, and they haven’t come up with a thing.” Carla looked around. “Where is the ladies’ room?”

Stone pointed the way, and she left the table.

“You all set for your meeting on Monday?” Dino asked.

“I believe so,” Stone replied. “What about your end?”

“Well, it’s a lot more complicated than what you have to do,” Dino replied. “More dangerous, too.”

“More dangerous than Dolce?”

“Well, maybe not, now that you mention it.”

“I think you’re both crazy,” Viv said. “You, especially, Dino. If this goes wrong, you’re going to be out of a job. They’ll drum you out of the department.”

“You could say that about half the decisions I make,” Dino said. “It goes with the territory, and I’m okay with that. Besides, Mike Freeman would be glad to have another Bacchetti over at Strategic Services.”

Carla came back, and they ordered dinner.


Will and Kate Lee had a late supper in the White House family quarters after a reception in the East Room earlier in the evening.

Will brought the Sunday New York Times upstairs with him, and they went over the big story of the day while they waited for their dinner to be served.

“I wish this had happened before the election,” Kate said. “We might have won a few more House seats on the back of this story.”

“If this had come out before the election,” Will said, “they would have found a way to blame me for it.”

Kate laughed. “They’re very good at that, aren’t they?”

“I think they teach a course in blaming the president at that CPAC shindig. You’ll see, it’ll be your turn soon.”

“Oh, I think I’ll get a pretty good honeymoon — until after the baby is born, anyway.”

“That may be true,” Will said, “and it may not be.”

“And then we’ll get a week of baby pictures in the papers and magazines.”

“The country does love a baby, doesn’t it?”

“All the world loves a baby.”

“It’s a pity we can’t auction the pictures,” Will said. “We’d be set for life on the proceeds.”

“Maybe we should sell the pictures to somebody who’ll give a lot of money to a good cause.”

“Such as?”

“I don’t know, the National Organization for Women? Planned Parenthood?”

Will laughed. “I like it,” he chuckled.

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