jg.thepelicanbrief-第48部分

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ry　convention。〃
　　
　　〃He's　the　best　we've　got；　but　I'm　exploring；〃　Coal　said　without　looking　up　from　his　memo。　He'd　read　the　speech；　and　it　wasn't　that　bad。　But　Mabry　had　been　writing　for　six　months；　and　the　ideas　were　stale　and　Coal　wanted　to　fire　him　anyway。　
　　
　　The　President　glanced　at　Coal's　memo。　〃What's　that？〃
　　
　　〃The　short　list。〃
　　
　　〃Who's　left？〃
　　
　　〃Siler…Spence；　Watson；　and　Calderon。〃　Coal　flipped　a　page。
　　
　　〃That's　just　great；　Fletcher。　A　woman；　a　black；　and　a　Cuban。　Whatever　happened　to　white　men？　I　thought　I　said　I　wanted　young　white　men。　Young；　tough；　conservative　judges　with　impeccable　credentials　and　years　to　live。　Didn't　I　say　that？〃　
　　
　　Coal　kept　reading。　〃They　have　to　be　confirmed；　Chief。〃
　　
　　〃We'll　get　'em　confirmed。　I'll　twist　arms　until　they　break；　but　they'll　be　confirmed。　Do　you　realize　that　nine　of　every　ten　white　men　in　this　country　voted　for　me？〃
　　
　　〃Eighty…four　percent。〃
　　
　　〃Right。　So　what's　wrong　with　white　men？〃
　　
　　〃This　is　not　exactly　patronage。〃
　　
　　〃The　hell　it's　not。　It's　patronage　pure　and　simple。　I　reward　my　friends；　and　I　punish　my　enemies。　That's　how　you　survive　in　politics。　You　dance　with　the　ones　that　brought　you。　I　can't　believe　you　want　a　female　and　a　black。　You're　getting　soft；　Fletcher。〃　
　　
　　Coal　flipped　another　page。　He'd　heard　this　before。　〃I'm　more　concerned　with　reelection；〃　he　said　quietly。
　　
　　〃And　I'm　not？　I've　appointed　so　many　Asians　and　Hispanics　and　women　and　blacks　you'd　think　I　was　a　Democrat。　Hell；　Fletcher；　what's　wrong　with　white　people？　Look；　there　must　be　a　hundred　good；　qualified；　conservative　judges　out　there；　right？　Why　can't　you　find　just　two；　only　two；　who　look　and　think　like　I　do？〃
　　
　　〃You　got　ninety　percent　of　the　Cuban　vote。〃　
　　
　　The　President　tossed　the　speech　in　a　seat　and　picked　up　the　morning's　Post。　〃Okay；　let's　go　with　Calderon。　How　old　is　he？〃
　　
　　〃Fifty…one。　Married；　eight　kids；　Catholic；　poor　background；　worked　his　way　through　Yale；　very　solid。　Very　conservative。　No　warts　or　skeletons；　except　he　was　treated　for　alcoholism　twenty　years　ago。　He's　been　sober　since。　A　teetotaler。〃
　　
　　〃Has　he　ever　smoked　dope？〃
　　
　　〃He　denies　it。〃
　　
　　〃I　like　him。〃　The　President　was　reading　the　front　page。
　　
　　〃So　do　I。　Justice　and　FBI　have　checked　his　underwear；　and　he's　very　clean。　Now；　do　you　want　Siler…Spence　or　Watson？〃
　　
　　〃What　kind　of　name　is　Siler…Spence？　I　mean；　what's　wrong　with　these　women　who　use　hyphens？　What　if　her　name　was　Skowinski；　and　she　married　a　guy　named　Levondowski？　Would　her　little　liberated　soul　insist　she　go　through　life　as　F。　Gwendolyn　Skowinski…Levondowski？　Give　me　a　break。　I'll　never　appoint　a　woman　with　a　hyphen。〃
　　
　　〃You　already　have。〃
　　
　　〃Who？〃
　　
　　〃Kay　Jones…Roddy；　ambassador　to　Brazil。〃
　　
　　〃Then　call　her　home　and　fire　her。〃　
　　
　　Coal　managed　a　slight　grin　and　placed　the　memo　on　the　seat。　He　watched　the　traffic　through　his　window。　They　would　decide　on　number　two　later。　Calderon　was　in　the　bag；　and　he　wanted　　Linda　Siler…Spence；　so　he　would　keep　pushing　the　black　and　force　the　President　to　the　woman。　Basic　manipulation。
　　
　　〃I　think　we　should　wait　another　two　weeks　before　announcing　them；〃　he　said。
　　
　　〃Whatever；〃　the　President　mumbled　as　he　read　a　story　on　page　one。　He　would　announce　them　when　he　got　ready；　regardless　of　Coal's　timetable。　He　was　not　yet　convinced　they　should　be　announced　together。
　　
　　〃Judge　Watson　is　a　very　conservative　black　judge　with　a　reputation　for　toughness。　He　would　be　ideal。〃
　　
　　〃I　don't　know；〃　the　President　mumbled　as　he　read　about　Gavin　Verheek。　
　　
　　Coal　had　seen　the　story　on　page　two。　Verheek　was　found　dead　in　a　room　at　the　Hilton　in　New　Orleans　under　strange　circumstances。　According　to　the　story；　official　FBI　was　in　the　dark　and　had　nothing　to　say　about　why　Verheek　was　in　New　Orleans。　Voyles　was　deeply　saddened。　Fine；　loyal　employee；　etc。　
　　
　　The　President　flipped　through　the　paper。　〃Our　friend　Grantham　has　been　quiet。〃
　　
　　〃He's　digging。　I　think　he's　heard　of　the　brief；　but　just　can't　get　a　handle　on　it。　He's　called　everyone　in　town；　but　doesn't　know　what　to　ask。　He's　chasing　rabbits。〃
　　
　　〃Well；　I　played　golf　with　Gminski　yesterday；〃　the　President　said　smugly。　〃And　he　assures　me　everything's　under　control。　We　had　a　real　heart…to…heart　talk　over　eighteen　holes。　He's　a　horrible　golfer；　couldn't　stay　out　of　the　sand　and　water。　It　was　funny；　really。〃　
　　
　　Coal　had　never　touched　a　golf　club；　and　hated　the　idle　chatter　about　handicaps　and　such。　〃Do　you　think　Voyles　is　investigating　down　there？〃
　　
　　〃No。　He　gave　me　his　word　he　would　not。　Not　that　I　trust　him；　but　Gminski　didn't　mention　Voyles。〃
　　
　　〃How　much　do　you　trust　Gminski？〃　Coal　asked　with　a　quick　glance　and　frown　at　the　President。
　　
　　〃None。　But　if　he　knew　something　about　the　pelican　brief；　I　think　he　would　tell　me〃　The　President's　words　trailed　off；　and　he　knew　he　sounded　naive。　
　　
　　Coal　grunted　his　disbelief。　
　　
　　They　crossed　the　Anacostia　River　and　were　in　Prince　Georges　County。　The　President　picked　up　the　speech　and　looked　out　his　window。　Two　weeks　after　the　killings；　and　the　ratings　were　still　above　fifty　percent。　The　Democrats　had　no　visible　candidate　out　there　making　noise。　He　was　strong　and　getting　stronger。　Americans　were　tired　of　dope　and　crime；　and　noisy　minorities　getting　all　the　attention；　and　liberal　idiots　interpreting　the　Constitution　in　favor　of　criminals　and　radicals。　This　was　his　moment。　Two　nominations　to　the　Supreme　Court　at　the　same　time。　It　would　be　his　legacy。　
　　
　　He　smiled　to　himself。　What　a　wonderful　tragedy。　
　　
　　*　　*　　*
　　
　　THE　TAXI　stopped　abruptly　at　the　corner　of　Fifth　and　
　　
　　Fifty…second；　and　Gray；　doing　exactly　what　he　was　told；　paid　quickly　and　jumped　out　with　his　bag。　The　car　behind　was　honking　and　flipping　birds；　and　he　thought　how　nice　it　was　to　be　back　in　New　York　City。　
　　
　　It　was　almost　5　P。M。；　and　the　pedestrians　were　thick　on　Fifth；　and　he　figured　that　was　precisely　what　she　wanted。　She　had　been　specific。　Take　this　flight　from　National　to　La　Guardia。　Take　a　cab　to　the　Vista　Hotel　in　the　World　Trade　Center。　Go　to　the　bar；　have　a　drink；　maybe　two；　watch　your　rear；　then　after　an　hour　catch　a　cab　to　the　corner　of　Fifth　and　Fifty…second。　Move　quickly；　wear　sunglasses；　and　watch　for　everything　because　if　he　was　being　followed　he　could　get　them　killed。　
　　
　　She　made　him　write　it　all　down。　It　was　a　bit　silly；　a　bit　of　overkill；　but　she　had　a　voice　he　couldn't　argue　with。　Didn't　want　to；　really。　She　was　lucky　to　be　alive；　she　said；　and　she　would　take　no　more　chances。　And　if　he　wanted　to　talk　to　her；　then　he　would　do　exactly　as　he　was　told。　
　　
　　He　wrote　it　down。　He　fought　the　crowd　and　walked　as　fast　as　possible　up　Fifth　to　Fifty…ninth　to　the　Plaza；　up　the　steps　and　through　its　lobby；　then　out　onto　Central　Park　South。　No　one　could　follow　him。　And　if　she　was　this　cautious；　no　one　could　follow　her。　
　　
　　The　sidewalk　was　packed　along　Central　Park　South；　and　as　he　neared　Sixth　Avenue　he　walked　even　faster。　He　was　keyed　up；　and　regardless　of　how　restrained　he　tried　to　be；　he　was　terribly　excited　about　meeting　her。　On　the　phone　she　had　been　cool　and　methodical；　but　with　a　trace　of　fear　and　uncertainty。　She　was　just　a　law　student；　she　said；　and　she　didn't　know　what　she　was　doing；　and　she　would　probably　be　dead　in　a　week　if　not　sooner；　but　anyway　this　was　the　way　the　game　would　be　played。　Always　assume　you're　being　followed；　she　said。　She　had　survived　seven　days　of　being　chased　by　bloodhounds；　so　please　do　as　she　said。　
　　
　　She　said　to　duck　into　the　St。　Moritz　at　the　corner　of　Sixth；　and　he　did。　She　had　reserved　a　room　for　him　under　the　name　of　Warren　Clark。　He　paid　cash　for　the　room；　and　rode　the　elevator　to　the　ninth　floor。　He　was　to　wait。　Just　sit　and　wait；　she'd　said。　
　　
　　He　stood　in　the　window　for　an　hour　and　watched　Central　Park　grow　dark。　The　phone　rang。
　　
　　〃Mr。　Clark？〃　a　female　asked。
　　
　　〃Uh；　yes。〃
　　
　　〃It's　me。　Did　you　arrive　alone？〃