Wild Card

26

Stone and Dino were having lunch at their club with no name when the junior senator from New York entered the dining room. He was Peter Rule, the son of the president, Katharine Lee, by her first marriage to one Simon Rule, deceased, who had once been a major figure at the CIA. The senator waved at them, then went to his table.

“That kid has turned out well, hasn’t he?” Dino asked over his lobster bisque.

“He has indeed,” Stone agreed. “He got good committee assignments as a freshman senator, and he dug in, did the hard work, and got commended for it on both sides of the aisle.”

“He’s good-looking, has an even better-looking wife, and a couple of cute kids, right?”

“When you’re right, you’re right, Dino.” Stone had never been able to entirely cure Dino of his habit of ending sentences with an interrogatory.

“Then what’s standing in his way of running for president?”

“Youth, I think, and the fact that both his mother and father have already committed themselves to Holly Barker’s candidacy. He’ll be a major factor when Holly leaves the post.”

Dino nodded and went back to his bisque.

They had just finished their dessert, when Senator Rule wandered over to their table. “Stone, Dino,” he said.

“Peter,” Stone and Dino said simultaneously.

“Pull up a chair,” Stone said.

Peter borrowed a chair from a nearby table and sat down.

“I hope you’re as well as you look,” Stone said.

“At least that well,” Peter replied. “I have a couple of questions for both of you.”

“We’re just full of answers,” Stone said.

“In complete confidence, of course,” Peter said. “I’m interested in becoming the next vice president of the United States. What are your opinions of that notion?”

“Peter,” Stone said, “I’d say you’d make an excellent vice president, but that would be insulting, given how little a vice president has to do in order to be excellent at his job.”

“That’s almost a very nice compliment, Stone,” Peter said, displaying a mouth full of teeth, all of them his own and each one perfect.

“Stone,” Dino said, “I think what Peter wants to know is if we think he should run now or wait four or eight years for a better opportunity.”

“Dino,” Peter said, “now I know why you have such a great reputation for interrogating suspects.”

“Go for it,” Stone said. “Anything could happen while you were waiting. Joe Box could get elected, for God’s sake.” Everybody laughed. “Nail down the job, make it your own, and be unwaveringly loyal to your president, except when you think she’s wrong.”

“What should I do in that case?”

“Tell her so. If she doesn’t see the light, tell everybody, as diplomatically as possible. That will earn you a quick reputation for being an independent mind. However, avoid being a pain in the ass.”

“I think that’s good advice,” Peter said, “and I think I’ll take it.”

“Hear! Hear!” Dino interjected.

“What was your second question?” Stone asked.

“Will you tell Holly I’m interested?”

“Wouldn’t you rather tell her yourself?”

“No, I don’t want to embarrass her, if she has to say no.”

“All right, I’ll mention it to her.”

“When you do, tell her I haven’t talked with either of my parents about this — and I don’t intend to, unless they bring it up. In which case, I’ll ask their advice, then tell them I’ll think about it and get back to them.”

“I’ll mention that to Holly, too.”

“Good. Now I’ll reward you two with a little gossip,” Peter said.

“I love gossip,” Dino replied. He jerked a thumb in Stone’s direction. “So does he. Lay it on us.”

“Ready? Hank Thomas has donated twenty million dollars to Joe Box’s campaign, through a PAC that keeps it anonymous.”

Stone and Dino sat silently, contemplating this information. Finally, Stone spoke. “Of course he has. He’s sticking a thumb in the eye of the Republican Party.”

“We are of one mind on that,” Peter said.

“When I speak to Holly, how shall I put it to her? As a feeler?”

“You can be as direct as you like,” Peter said. “And I hope she gives you a direct answer.”

Stone nodded. “I think it’s a little early in the campaign for her to give you an answer right away.”

“Tell her that if a better political option comes her way, I will stand down. I mean that. And I understand that she would not wish to announce her decision any time soon. She can pick her moment, and I’ll be there.”

“It may take a day or two to reach her. I don’t know what her schedule is like.”

“She’s at the State Department for the rest of the week,” Peter said, standing up and offering his hand. “Then she hits the campaign trail. Thank you both for your attention and your good advice.” He walked away.

“What do you think of that?” Dino said.

“He’s either a very smart politician or absolutely nuts. I can’t figure out which.”

Back at his desk, Stone called Holly’s secret cell number and got only a beep. “Call me when you can,” he said, then hung up.

Jamie Cox bustled in and threw herself into a chair, looking excited.

“You look excited,” Stone said. “What’s up?”

“They’re publishing my book next Tuesday,” she said.

“Jesus, that’s short notice, isn’t it?”

“I told you they were rushing it, and they have. They’re sending me on the road for two weeks — a month, if initial sales are good. They’re putting together an appearance schedule as we speak.”

“I guess that means no sex for a while,” he said.

“Not unless you’re into phone sex.”

“I’m more partial to the real thing,” Stone replied.

“Who isn’t? In this life, we have to take what comes to us.”

“I have the feeling that if we did, the Thomases would be listening to us panting — and in real time.”

“Well, I guess we have to make the most of the time we have left until Tuesday.” She stood up, took his hand, and pulled him to his feet. “Not on that grungy sofa,” she said. “Let’s go upstairs. We can start in the elevator.”

Stone did as he was told.