The Devil's bed

chapter
twenty-six

Clay Dixon sat at his desk in the Oval Office, scanning a State Department memo that dealt with the upcoming Pan-American summit meeting. Beyond the window at his back lay a dripping sky. A storm front had moved through in the dark of early morning bringing with it a steady rain. Dixon’s whole body ached. Whenever a front moved through, it was a curse, and the old football injuries rose up inside him, working some kind of painful voodoo on his joints and bones.

There was a knock at the open door. The president’s chief of staff, John Llewellyn, stepped in. Senator William Dixon stood just behind him.

“Mr. President, may we have a few minutes of your time?” Llewellyn asked.

The president put aside the memo. “In five minutes, we have a meeting to discuss the Pan-American summit, but until then I’m all yours, John.”

Leaning on his cane, Senator Dixon entered the Oval Office with Llewellyn and sat down.

The president sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “You look like a delegation. What’s up?”

“So she’s left you.” The senator’s words were rife with both satisfaction and disapproval.

“I beg your pardon?”

“No use denying it. Kate’s left you.”

The president looked at his watch. “You have exactly three minutes, Dad.”

“This won’t take long.” The senior senator from Colorado folded his hands atop his cane. They were huge hands. Although blemished by age spots, they still had a powerful, crushing look. “Was she worth it?”

A sick feeling began to knot his stomach, but Clay Dixon tried not to let his face show anything.

“Ms. Channing,” the senator clarified. “Was she worth throwing away the presidency?”

“There’s absolutely nothing between Lorna and me except friendship and the work of this administration.”

“If you say so.”

“And the presidency is secure.”

“Is it? What do you imagine Wayne White would do if he knew your wife had left you? He’d gut you like a fish, Clayboy.”

Llewellyn stood behind the senator’s chair. He said, “Why didn’t you tell me, Mr. President?”

“Because there’s nothing to tell, John. It’s a misunderstanding between Kate and me, and it’s under control.”

The senator said, “Is the First Lady coming back?”

“As soon as her father has recovered.”

The senator smiled smugly. “My information is that she’s through with you, had all she can stomach.”

“Kate’s angry right now, but she’s not stupid. She’ll calm down in a few days and we’ll talk things through. We’re handling it.”

“We?” Llewellyn said. “You mean Bob Lee.”

“Yes, John. I asked Bobby to help me on this one.”

“I’ve got to tell you, Mr. President, I feel so far out of the loop I might as well be on the moon.”

“This situation is personal not political.”

Senator Dixon said, “In your position, there’s no separation. Don’t you understand that? What if she decides to tell the press the things she knows? Your presidency is hanging by a thread, son. And that wife of yours, she’s a sharp pair of scissors poised to snip.” He shook his head and offered his son a look dripping with sympathy. “You should have told me right away. Haven’t I been there beside you all the way since Alan Carpathian died?” He spoke gently, in a tone probably meant to be fatherly but that struck Clay Dixon as foully patronizing.

“Maybe I don’t need you there anymore,” the president said.

“Don’t need me?” For a moment, the senator appeared stung. But he composed himself and laughed. “You go right ahead and think that if you want to. In the meantime, we’ll just go about the business of getting you reelected.”

“How do you propose to do that? How much more slime do we all have to wade through?”

“You listen to me, Clayboy, and listen good. I’m not speaking as your father now. There’s too much riding on this presidency for you to throw it away with your stupid sexual shenanigans or your little polished brass ideals.”

“Take it easy, Senator,” Llewellyn said.

“No, I won’t take it easy.” William Dixon sat back in disgust. “You want to know the truth? The best thing that could have happened was if that nut Moses had done what he set out to do.”

The president went hot, fire in every cell of his body. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. Dead, her lips are sealed, and you’re a widower. Huge sympathy vote factor.”

“Bill,” Llewellyn said. “That’s enough.”

The president stood. “Out of my office, Senator. I want you out now.”

The elder Dixon cast his son a steely glare.

“Now,” the president said.

William Dixon took his time rising from his chair. He drew his rigid frame to its full, impressive height. “You may be willing to stand there and let fate smack you between the eyes, Clayboy, but I’m not going to let that happen, by God. I didn’t get you here just to have you turn the Dixon name into a national joke.” With a show of great dignity, he walked to the door and left the office.

After the Senator had gone, Dixon turned angrily to Llewellyn. “How does he know about me and Kate? Where does he get his information?”

“I don’t know. He just gets it. Mr. President, do you want my resignation?”

“Your resignation? What are you talking about?”

“It’s obvious I don’t have your confidence. Without that, I can’t do my job. Do you want my resignation?”

“John, if I wanted someone else in your office, I’d let you know. I probably should have told you about Kate, but there are some things I want handled by Bob Lee, and that will never change. If you can’t live with it, then do what you need to do.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Right now, I don’t know who in the hell to trust.”

Llewellyn shook his head. “Then God help you, Mr. President, because you can’t run this country alone.”

As soon as his chief of staff was gone, Dixon went to the door of the Oval Office and spoke to his secretary. “Maryelizabeth, get Bobby in here now.”

“He’s waiting for you with the others in the Roosevelt Room,” Maryelizabeth Hart said. “The meeting to discuss the summit.”

“I didn’t ask you where he is. I said get him.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And tell the others the meeting will be delayed awhile.”

A long minute passed before Robert Lee stepped into the Oval Office.

“Close the door, Bobby.”

Lee did as he’d been asked.

“Sit down.”

Lee took a chair.

“Who did you talk to about Kate, Bobby?”

“No one other than those you asked me to speak with.”

“One of them talked.”

“What makes you think so?”

“My father was just in here, and he knows, Bobby. He knows.”

“No one I spoke with would breach your confidence, Clay. They’re our people, not the senator’s.”

“Well somebody sure as hell said something. My father’s surprising in a lot of ways, but I assure you he isn’t psychic.”

“Clay, if you start distrusting those closest to you, you’ll end up trusting no one. Is it possible Kate is the source?”

“She hasn’t even told her father.”

“You’re positive?”

“She was definite.”

Lee put an index finger to his lips and thought a moment. “You talked with Kate on the phone from the Residence.”

“Yes.”

“And we talked here.”

“That’s right.”

“And I met with the others in my office. I know it sounds crazy, Clay, but maybe we’ve been bugged.”

“The Secret Service is supposed to make sure all my communications are secure.”

“Maybe we should have them do a full security sweep,” Lee suggested.

“I agree,” Dixon said.

He buzzed Maryelizabeth Hart. “Get Rich Thielman here and get him here now.” He was speaking of the head of the Secret Service Presidential Protective Detail. He turned to the window behind him. The day was still weighted with the gloom that had settled after the morning storm. “Bobby, I have something I want you to take care of. My father made a comment that concerns me. It sounded like a threat, as if he intends to intervene somehow to save my presidential ass and the family name. I’d like to know exactly what he’s up to.”

“What do you want?”

“He’s a man of amazing resources and little reserve when it comes to getting what he wants. And he doesn’t want me to lose this election.”

“More dirty tricks?”

“I don’t know, but it would be good to keep tabs on him. I’ve had enough surprises already. Can you handle this?”

“I’ll get someone on it.”

“No, I want you on it personally. I know you’re busy, but until we clear up the question of security around here I don’t want this moving beyond you and me.”

“All right,” Lee said. “I’m on it.”

“Be discreet when you’re poking around, Bobby. The last thing I want is for the senator to know we’re digging.”

“When was I not the soul of discretion?” He smiled that charming smile the press loved.