Стюарт Вудс - Indecent Exposure

“Well now, that’s interesting on two counts,” Stone said.

“It’s apparently getting to be a weekly thing,” Bob said. “They talked about it in bed.”

“I know someone who needs to know this,” Stone said, “but not until the proper time. Have you made tapes?”

“Yes.”

“Please continue to do so.”

“She also had lunch with Danny and told him about being fired from the magazine. He wants revenge, but she’s told him to cool it, she doesn’t want him to go back to prison, and by the way, neither does the governor.”

“Well, that shows restraint. Stay on her, and let’s see what else turns up.”

“As you wish. I gave Joan my bill to date.”

“Thanks, Bob, and keep those reports coming in.”

The two men shook hands, and Bob left. The other Bob didn’t even notice the removal of his pillow; he just snored on.

Joan buzzed him. “Peter Rule on one.”

“Peter? How are you?”

“Very well, Stone. Are you, by chance, free for lunch today?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I saw your name on the Yacht Club’s newly elected members’ list this morning. Why don’t we meet there? Twelve-thirty?”

“See you then.”

Stone had nearly forgotten that he had been proposed for membership. Those wheels ground slowly, he guessed. He had gone most of his life without joining any kind of club, and now he belonged to three, and he didn’t mind a bit.

They met in the bar, then moved into the beautiful dining room, which had been designed at the turn of the last century to resemble the belowdecks of a ship, and ordered seafood, which seemed appropriate.

“Celeste and I are looking forward to our cruise,” Peter said, “and I know Mom appreciates your keeping it quiet. She has something in mind, but I don’t know what it is.”

“We’ll just wait for the surprise, then.”

“The senator tells me you’re pitching in on his new PAC. I’m very grateful to you, Stone.”

“I’m glad to help. I think it’s a good idea for a wealthy politician not to contribute too visibly to his own campaign, and it’s just as important to adhere to the letter of the campaign laws.”

“I fully intend to do that.”

“When do you expect to announce?”

“Perhaps a year before the election, depending on circumstances.”

“Depending on whether Benton Blake throws in?”

“Ah, the senator told you about the rumor?”

“Yes, and he could be a formidable competitor. After all, the people have already elected him to statewide office twice.”

“I think the divorce is hurting him,” Peter said. “He’s loath to give his wife half his money and a house, but if he stiffs her, it will hurt him at election time.”

“Not a good position to be in,” Stone agreed. “Peter, I’m impressed with your clean record, but there’s something else you should consider.”

“What’s that?”

“What happened in London.”

Peter looked confused. “Did something happen in London?”

“That will be the question on the minds of the operatives who handle Benton’s or your other opponents’ campaigns. You might reflect on those years, as well as those at Princeton and Harvard, and dredge up anything that might be termed misbehavior, especially with regard to women. It would be much easier to deal with such matters now, rather than later.”

“You have a point.”

“For instance, are there any little Peters running around in New Jersey or Cambridge?”

“No, nothing like that. I tend to be a serial monogamist where the ladies are concerned, so there were only a relative few.”

“How about at Oxford, when you were studying there?”

“Ah, I loved English girls.”

“Very many?”

“More than at school in the States. There’s an old joke about what women of different nationalities say immediately after having made love.”

“Tell me.”

“A German girl says, ‘ Gut , now let’s have somesing to eat!’ A French girl says, ‘You weel improve wiz practice.’ An American girl says, ‘Now you must think I’m awful.’ But an English girl says, ‘There, dear, is that better?’ I like that attitude.”

Stone laughed. “You’ll remember that Jack Kennedy’s older brother, Joe Junior, was killed in an accident during World War Two, when an airplane he was flying that was filled with explosives went off before he could depart the aircraft.”

“Yes, I knew that.”

“One account of that time in his life says he was living with an Englishwoman near his base who had a couple of children and a husband overseas.”

“That, I didn’t know.”

“It’s the sort of thing that, especially in those days, would have come back to haunt him if he had lived to run for President.”

“I see your point, Stone. Don’t worry, the skeletons in my closet are things like the time I got drunk at a Harvard party and threw up on a dean’s shoes.”

Stone laughed. “Well, we all have stories like that.”

“I appreciate your concern, Stone, and I’ll be very careful.”

“Please tell Celeste she needs to be careful, too, and ask her to review her past associations for any sign of trouble.”

“I’ll broach the subject.”

Peter Rule had a couple of afternoon meetings with local politicos, then got home around six, to find Celeste hanging pictures in their living room. They kissed.

“Nice,” he said, checking out the art. “Where did these come from?”

“I found them in Dad’s attic,” she said, “just gathering dust. I thought we could make better use of them.”

“I like them,” he said. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Oh, yes, thank you. I’ll get us a snack.” She went into the kitchen and came back with some pâté and crackers.

He handed her her usual scotch, and they settled into the living room sofa. “I had lunch with Stone Barrington today,” he said.

“Oh? Why?”

“I was at the Yacht Club and had some time on my hands, so I called him and he came over. Your dad told me that Stone is going to give a million bucks to the new PAC, and I wanted to thank him.”

“Wow! That’s generous of him.”

“It’s more than he’ll get from fees on our legal work,” Peter said. “He gave me some good advice, too.”

“What sort of advice?”

“Your dad told him about a rumor that Benton Blake is going to run for the Senate seat.”

“ Your Senate seat?”

Peter laughed. “Best not to refer to it that way until I’m actually elected to it.”

“I suppose.”

“Stone suggested that I dredge my memories of Princeton, Harvard, Oxford, and London for anything that Benton or any other opponent might use against me during the campaign.”

“I can’t wait to hear what you came up with,” she said.

“I’m afraid the worst I could do was when I got drunk at Harvard and threw up on a dean’s shoes.”

“Pretty tough to get an attack ad out of that, isn’t it?”

“I think what he really wanted to know was if I had any little Rules running around in any of those places.”

“And do you?”

“Certainly not! What’s the Pill for, after all?”

She didn’t laugh.

“He also suggested that you take a trip down memory lane and see if there’s anything there that might raise a voter’s eyebrow.”

“Well, I’ll have to rewind that tape and see what I can come up with,” she said.

He noted that she still wasn’t laughing, which was unlike her.

“Okay... find anything on the tape?”

“You mean I get all of half a minute to reflect?”

“I didn’t mean to rush you. Were there all that many men in your past?”