Murder at Ford's Theatre - Margaret Truman [118]
“In a second White House statement, President Nash said, ‘Claire Emerson would have made a superb leader of the NEA, and while I’m saddened at her decision, I certainly respect it, and wish her well in her future endeavors.’”
While the announcement came as a surprise, it did not send shock waves throughout official Washington, at least not initially. Interest in the National Endowment for the Arts, and who would lead it, did not rank high on the political meter. Of course, those for whom the arts were a passion, or who toiled in its vineyards, took Clarise’s decision seriously, but D.C.’s general public yawned. Eventually, by early afternoon, the talking heads began showing up to discuss not what her decision meant to the arts community, but whether it represented a refutation of President Nash and his administration, Washington being a place where nothing, not even the most mundane event, can escape potential political meaning and ramifications.
MAC AND ANNABEL HAD DISCUSSED Clarise’s decision with her for hours, and as they talked, her resolve seemed to harden by the minute. She told them repeatedly how burned out she felt, and how the situation with Jeremiah had drained every ounce of ambition from her. “When this is over, I want to take Jeremiah back to California with me,” she said. “Lord knows I’ll feel better there, and I think he will, too.”
It was almost midnight when she placed a call from the Smiths’ Watergate apartment to the home of Vice President Dorothy Maloney’s chief of staff. That put into motion a series of other calls involving various White House staff, culminating with a call from the vice president herself.
“There’s no way I can get you to change your mind?” Maloney asked.
“No, hon. It’s got to be this way. Someday, when we’re a couple of tottering dowagers looking back over our lives, I’ll tell you everything behind my decision. But for now, let’s just say I’m tired, beaten down, and in desperate need to leave this city. I thought Hollywood was bad, but it’s a fairyland compared with Washington. My only regret is letting you and the president down. You’ll just have to find a way to forgive me.”
“Okay,” the veep said. “I’ve spoken with the president. Naturally, he’s disappointed, but he says he understands how personal pressures can override career decisions, and wishes you nothing but the best.”
“That’s good to hear,” Clarise said, glancing at Mac and Annabel while wiping at a tear rolling down her cheek.
Clarise and the VP agreed that it would be Joyce Drummond who would release the news in the form of a written statement to the media. When the call from Maloney was ended, Clarise called her ex-husband, woke him up, and informed him of her decision. He didn’t sound especially disappointed, although it was hard to distinguish between true feelings and grogginess. Their conversation was brief and unemotional.
Annabel asked Clarise, “You’ll be leaving Ford’s Theatre, too? No chance of deciding to stay on there?”
“I meant it when I said I wanted out of Washington, Annie. The resignation I turned in to the board stays in effect. I’ll remain until they come up with a successor, as long as that process doesn’t drag on too long. I’ve got the Festival at Ford’s on Thursday night, and the financial question to be settled.”
“What financial question?” Mac asked.
“Irregularities the outside auditors have come up with. I’m not certain of the details, but Sol Wexler promised to fill me in once he has a better grasp of it. Exactly what I needed at the moment.”
“What’s your first step?” Mac asked.
“My first step?” Her laugh was rueful. “My first