A God in Ruins - Leon Uris [157]
“I’d rather wait until Greer returns.”
“Sit still, Mr. Jefferson. Pucky Tomtree has been having an illicit affair with another man for over two years.”
Darnell’s mind ran a Pucky-check. If she had, she was extremely clever and careful. Would she? Little gossip bits had her with artists and writers, but that had been long ago, probably before Thornton. What seemed certain was that Maldonado would not try this if it wasn’t true.
“What are your intentions?” Darnel asked grimly.
“This campaign is not going into mud slinging. We demand a full, honest, open debate, without stunts. We demand decency in your advertising.”
Darnell had been scissored. He knew it. Yet Maldonado was not trying to shade his demands. Darnell had gotten to know Quinn with a lot of secondhand study. This was pure Quinn Patrick O’Connell, a sense of humility and honor that conveyed itself to the public.
“Who knows about this?”
“Greer learned about this first. She told the governor, myself and my daughter, who is Quinn’s wife. We are it.”
“The press?”
“Nada, nothing.”
“You are certain to be able to keep a lid on this till after the election, provided we remain in certain bounds?”
“I’m as sure as I can be about anything,” Mal said. “We’re dealing with three fine people. Greer doesn’t even know I’m confronting you. Quinn ordered us not to leak this at any cost. I’m taking it upon myself to offer it to you as a warning.”
“If I agree to carefully inspect our advertising and I agree to your debate conditions, will you give me the name of the gentleman?”
“Do you agree?” Mal asked.
“I agree, but how can O’Connell afford this gesture, a gesture that could deny him the presidency?”
“You just don’t get it, Mr. Jefferson.”
When Greer returned, Darnell watched the two very closely. Were they in cahoots, in a good-cop, bad-cop play, deliberately giving Mal time alone with Darnell so he could squash him while leaving her out? There was absolutely nothing in her demeanor to indicate she knew of Professor Maldonado’s revelation.
Through the next two hours of “negotiations,” Darnell began to “see” more and more merit to their proposal. He wondered out loud that it might even help Thornton. Two politicians facing each other honestly. Now, that’s a picture…or an extended oxymoron.
Darnell won a few points in quibbling over this and that, and by early afternoon they broke camp to return to Midway Airport.
The final seal would be a simultaneous announcement with both candidates praising the honesty and openness of the debate.
* * *
Rae sat in the cockpit at the navigator’s desk, still directing the streams of information coming in.
The cockpit door was closed.
“You all right?” Greer asked.
“I feel very tired,” Mal answered.
“You told him while I was out of the room.”
“Yeah,” Mal sighed, “I nailed him.”
“That puts Quinn in a rotten position vis-à-vis the two of you.”
“I’ll save him the pain of having to fire me. I’m resigning.”
Greer patted his hand. “Maybe we see Quinn in too bright a light, Mal. Maybe he knew, in his heart of hearts, one of us intended to confront Jefferson about the Pucky affair. He’s that smart, you know.”
Rae came back with messages and gave them to Greer.
“Are you okay, Grandpa?” Rae asked.
“Just tired, honey.”
Quinn read the short note of resignation from Mal.
“This is terrible,” Quinn said.
“I got you the debate I think you need. So, don’t let’s rehash it.”
“I’m going to have to accept your resignation,” Quinn said, feeling a trembling wash over him.
“Yes, I know.”
“Mal. We are still family. We’re only humans. I wasn’t really all that surprised when you told me. Maybe I silently hung the bad deed on you. And you only did it to make the playing field level. I want to keep Rita and my personal rooms at your home. We are family, man!”
“Thanks, Quinn.”
Chapter 43
NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY—
FIFTH AVENUE
OCTOBER 15, 2008
On this day the grand repository of human existence and thought was the focus of the nation. On this day illicit lovers could no longer rendezvous at the statues of the lions, for the building