The President's Daughter - Mariah Stewart [99]
“Green heron,” the man whispered as Simon drew near. “I think they’re building a nest there in that stand of reeds.”
Simon leaned forward to take a look but saw nothing moving.
The man offered his glasses to Simon, telling him, “Look to the right of that one low branch.”
“I see them.” Simon nodded. He watched for a moment, then handed the field glasses back. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” The man gave Simon the once-over.
“Are you Peter Stinson?” Not certain of proper birding protocol, Simon kept his voice low.
“Yes. You are . . . ?”
“Simon Keller. I’m working on a book about Graham Hayward, and Philip Norton suggested that I—”
“Saw him not too long ago. He mentioned something about a book, but we didn’t get much chance to chat.” Stinson raised the binoculars to his eyes once again and seemed to be distracted by something that stirred in a clump of tall grasses. “What did you want to know?”
“Well, I know that you were the party chairman while Hayward was in office, and since this book is intended to contain a selection of personal recollections about President Hayward, I wanted to see if you had something to contribute.”
“My recollections of Hayward, you say?”
Simon nodded.
“Graham Hayward was a horse’s ass,” Stinson pronounced as he pointed skyward. “Looks like a black-headed gull, right there. I’ll be darned.”
“Ummm . . .” Simon glanced up. To a boy from Iowa, a seagull was a seagull. “Would you care to elaborate on that?”
“He was a do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do sort of fellow.”
“Everything I’ve read about him leads me to believe that he was a totally honest, moral, upright—”
“Oh, please,” Stinson muttered under his breath. “You ever see a yellow-winged warbler?”
“Ah, no, I haven’t.”
“Look on the low-hanging branch of that dead tree straight ahead.”
“Ah, yes, I see them. . . . Now about President Hayward . . .” Simon held on to the glasses, hoping to prevent Stinson’s attention from wandering again. “Are you implying that he wasn’t as moral as he—”
“Ask Norton. He knew.”
“Knew about what?”
“About Hayward’s girlfriend.”
Simon feigned shock. “Hayward had a girlfriend?” he whispered.
“Yup. Young one. Beautiful girl, but young. Never a word slipped out about that, gotta hand it to Hayward’s people there. Guess you’re not going to slip it into your book, either, not with Norton involved.”
“Why would you say that?”
“He’d never let that get out. He’s like the keeper of the flame. Anyway, it’s no secret that Graham’s boy will be running in the next election. No way they’re going to let that cat out of the bag. Why muddy the waters?”
“Then why did you tell me?” Simon passed the binoculars back.
“What’s the difference?” He shrugged “You’re working with Norton, so he must trust you. He won’t let you use it anyway, but you probably already know that.”
“So that’s the only scandal about Hayward, that he had a girlfriend?”
“Isn’t that enough?” Stinson snorted. “Can’t tell you how pissed off I was when I heard about that. All those years of being Mr. Morality, making it hard on the rest of us to live up to his code, and here he was, doing just what everyone else wanted to do and was afraid to for fear he’d find out and give ’em hell.”
Stinson shook his head. “Hayward was a damned hypocrite.”
“How did you learn about her, the girlfriend?”
Stinson watched a flock of birds take flight from the opposite side of the marsh. “From David Park.”
“The vice president.”
“Yes. He was quite excited about the prospect of moving up the . . .” He stopped mid-sentence.
“. . . the ladder?” Simon finished it for him. “Why would Hayward having a girlfriend make Park think he’d be moving up? Infidelity has never been an impeachable offense.”
“Hayward was in no danger of being impeached. But at one time he did make some ridiculous rumblings about not running for a second term.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because for one brief shining moment Hayward thought that he might walk away from it all.”
“From his office.”
“Yeah.