Indecent Exposure

by Stuart Woods

  “Who is this reliable source?” Stone asked, surprised.

  “Vanessa Blake,” he said.

  “How the hell do you know Vanessa Blake?” Stone asked.

  “My house in the Hamptons is a couple of doors down the beach from theirs. We both run every morning, and that’s how we bumped into each other.”

  “Anything going on there, Herb?”

  “No. Not that I wouldn’t enjoy that, but she’s already got a boyfriend. Anyway, that’s how I heard about Benton’s plans,” he said. “During one of our conversations, Vanessa told me he wants to practice law again. You and Eggers should make him an offer—he’d be a great rainmaker.”

  “What a good idea,” Stone said. “I’ll mention it to Bill.”

  36

  Stone and Dino met for dinner at Patroon.

  “You look pretty happy,” Dino said. “What’s been going on?”

  “You wouldn’t believe it,” Stone replied, causing some of his bourbon to vanish.

  “Don’t I always believe it?”

  “Believe what?”

  “Believe you.”

  “Well, yeah, after you’ve grilled me for a few minutes to see if there are any holes in my story. Any conversation with you is always an interrogation.”

  “That’s a dirty communist lie,” Dino replied. “I’m a charming conversationalist.”

  “Right up to, but not including, the rubber hose.”

  “The rubber hose went out with spats,” Dino said. “These days we use a New York City telephone book—the black pages, not the yellow ones, or the Sunday Times. Both make more noise than the rubber hose and leave less bruising.”

  “Well, I’m glad to be brought up to date with the latest in police violence,” Stone said. “Now, are you ready to converse normally?”

  “Who did you have lunch with today at The Club?”

  “There you go again, can’t you just pretend to listen quietly and murmur an occasional encouraging noise?”

  “Ah, um,” Dino replied.

  “Okay, here we go—Benton and Vanessa Blake are divorcing.”

  “Um, ah,” Dino said, resting his chin on his hand, elbow on the table. “Been there, heard that.”

  “Benton is screwing Gloria Parsons.”

  “Aha! What else?”

  “Let’s see . . . Oh, yes, Benton is going to resign the governorship and come to Woodman & Weld as a partner, where he will, Bill Eggers hopes, make it rain all the time.”

  “Now that’s news.”

  “He’s also going to marry Gloria Parsons.”

  Dino shook his head. “Benton has been married for so long he’s forgotten that these days you don’t have to marry ’em to fuck ’em. Somebody should explain that to him before he does something crazy.”

  “And then Benton is going to run for the Senate against Peter Rule, except he doesn’t know yet that Peter is running.”

  “I’d like to see his face when he finds out. Now tell me some dirt.”

  “That’s not enough dirt for you?” Stone asked.

  Stone sighed and lowered his voice. “All right, but this is the kind of news I don’t share with anybody, not even you, usually.”

  “I will take it to my grave,” Dino said solemnly.

  “If you tell anybody, even Viv, I’ll see that that happens sooner rather than later.”

  Dino made the motion of locking his lips with a key.

  “Before he was governor, Benton used to rent a house on the Vineyard, right next door to Eliot Saltonstall’s house.”

  “Yeah? What’s so hot about that?”

  “He dallied with the girl next door.”

  “Eliot’s daughter? Which one?”

  “Celeste, the younger one.”

  “The one who’s now married to Peter Rule?”

  “The very one.”

  “And how did that turn out?”

  “She found herself pregnant.”

  “Now that’s dirt!” Dino said.

  “And she had an abortion.”

  “All this with a girl who married the guy who’s running against Benton for the Senate?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Stone, I’ve gotta hand it to you, when asked for dirt, you come up in spades. In fact, you should carry around a spade, just to handle it.”

  “I’m so glad to have entertained you,” Stone said.

  Then dinner came.

  37

  Stone was in his office the following morning when Joan buzzed. “Senator Saltonstall on one,” she said.

  Stone pressed the button. “Good morning, Eliot,” he said.

  “Good morning, Stone,” the senator said. “Have you heard the rumors?”

  “What rumors?” Stone asked cautiously.

  “There are so many I can’t keep track of them.”

  “Rumors about what?”

  “Rumors about everybody and everything,” the senator said. “I hear that the Benton Blakes are divorcing. I hear that they both have lovers. I hear that Benton is resigning the governorship.”

  “It sounds as if all that remains is for Benton to find himself pregnant.”

  “What?”

  “Sorry, Eliot, that was an attempt at humor.”

  “Don’t confuse me with humor, I’m confused enough as it is. Have you heard these rumors?”

  “I have now,” Stone replied.

  “Have you heard that Benton is going to declare for the Senate?”

  “I think that’s a logical thing for him to do, considering all the rumors.”

  “Do you think he’s planning to practice law again?”

  “Well, he’s a lawyer. We were at law school together, but a year apart.”

  “Do you think he might join Woodman & Weld?”

  “If that’s another rumor, the only person who could comment on it, besides Blake, is Bill Eggers.”

  “Have you heard any other rumors?”

  “I don’t get out much, Eliot. These things tend to pass me by.”

  “I’m still trying to find something on Benton, and it’s more important than ever. Have you heard anything on that score?”

  Stone paused. He could hardly tell the man that Blake had seduced his daughter, fathered a potential grandchild for him, then paid for the abortion. After all, the girl was Saltonstall’s daughter and his candidate’s wife. “Not a thing,” he replied finally.

  “Why your delay in answering?”

  “I was scouring my brain for signs of a rumor but found none.”

  “If Blake runs for the Senate, do you think he could defeat Peter?”

  Stone thought for a moment. “After scouring my brain again, I don’t know. They both have big advantages as a candidate. I should think it would be close, maybe a toss-up.”

  “That’s what I think, too,” the senator said, “and it’s why I’m trying so hard to find something on Blake.”

  “Just relax and don’t try so hard, Eliot. If there’s something out there, it will likely surface before Election Day. Anyway, you don’t want people to know that you’re trying to torpedo Benton before he’s even announced. You could start a rumor.”

  “That’s what I like about you, Stone, you give thoughtful, sensible advice, even if you’re not much on rumors.”

  “Thank you, Eliot, I think.”

  “There’s a rumor that you, Blake, and Bill Eggers had lunch yesterday at The Club.”

  “Bill and I had a lunch date, and we ran into Benton.” That was very, very close to being the truth.

  “So it wasn’t a rumor?”

  “I suppose not, in the circumstances.”

  “What circumstances?”

  “That the three of us lunched together yesterday.”

  “Oh, yes. Did you
discuss the election?”

  “We talked mostly about the law, as I recall.” And where Blake was going to practice it, but he didn’t mention that. “When is Peter contemplating an announcement?” Stone asked, hoping for a change of subject.

  “Well, our first thought was about a year out from the election, but if Blake announces sometime soon, that could change.”

  “I suppose that, if they both announce, that might discourage other potential office-seekers.”

  “That’s a very good point and an argument for an early announcement. Perhaps Peter should announce before Blake has a chance to.”

  “Do you think Peter’s announcing would discourage Blake from doing so?”

  “That’s a very good question, Stone, and one I’ll have to contemplate at length. Do you have an opinion?”

  “Well, off the top of my head, I would think that Blake possesses sufficient ego to cause him to think of Peter as a kid and not much in the way of competition. It couldn’t hurt to have Blake underestimate Peter and his chances.”

  “Hmmmm,” Saltonstall responded.

  “I hope I’ve been helpful,” Stone said.

  “You’ve certainly given me food for thought, Stone. Are you free for lunch today?”

  Stone didn’t want to prolong this conversation. “I’m afraid not, Eliot, and I have a client waiting to see me now, so I’d better run.”

  “Of course. Let me know if you hear any rumors.”

  “Take care, Eliot.” He hung up and buzzed Joan.

  “Yes, boss?”

  “If Senator Saltonstall calls back before lunch, tell him I’m with a client.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Stone called Dino.

  “Bacchetti.”

  “Have you heard any new rumors?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because Eliot Saltonstall just called me and related most of what I told you last night.”

  “You think I blabbed to Saltonstall?”

  “Of course not, Dino. I trust you implicitly. I just wonder where he’s hearing this stuff.”

  “Apparently everybody is hearing it because I’ve heard most of it from at least two people this morning.”

  “How much of it?”

  “Just about everything except the pregnancy thing.”

  “Did you hear Gloria Parsons’s name mentioned?”

  “Come to think of it, no. Do you want me to start that rumor?”

  “Good God, no—we don’t want Benton’s name sullied before he can join Woodman & Weld.”

  “But after that, it’s okay?”

  “Not until we’ve milked him dry.”

  38

  The following morning, Stone received another call from Senator Eliot Saltonstall. “Good morning, Stone.”

  “Good morning, Eliot.”

  “With regard to our conversation of yesterday, and the possible forthcoming announcement that Benton Blake is declaring for the Senate, Peter and I have decided that he should announce first.”

  “And when will that be?” Stone asked.

  “Preferably the day before Benton plans to announce.”

  “And what date will that be?”

  “Frankly, Stone, I was hoping you could tell me. After all, you hear things.”

  “Eliot, when I hear things I, more than likely, hear them from you, as I did yesterday.”

  “All right, then how about the day before Benton announces his resignation from the governorship.”

  “Eliot, it may surprise you to learn that the governor does not report his intentions to me on any sort of regular basis. I think it would be more productive if you backtracked.”

  “Backtracked? What does that mean?”

  “It means that you should call the person or persons who passed on to you the rumors that you passed on to me yesterday and ask them for any further rumors.”

  “But why should those persons have information any better than what you could get?”

  “That would seem obvious, if you think about it.”

  The senator paused for a moment. “All right, I’ve thought about it, and I think you are as good a source as they.”

  “Eliot, I don’t know, nor have I heard any rumor concerning the date of Benton’s announcement.”

  “But surely you know someone who knows.”

  “Not only do I not know anyone who knows, I have no idea whether Benton himself knows. I think he did say he would do so after his property settlement had been approved by the court.”

  “And when will that be?”

  “I got the impression that it should be sooner, rather than later.”

  “That’s very imprecise, Stone.”

  “I’m aware of that, but it’s all I know—or think I know. May I make a suggestion?”

  “Of course.”

  “I expect that, over the course of your political life, you have come to know a person or persons who work for or have regular dealings with the family court.”

  “I expect so.”

  “Then perhaps you could call one or more of those persons and make inquiries. For instance, it might be helpful to know which judge is presiding over Blake v. Blake, would it not?”

  “I expect it would.”

  “Perhaps you might even be socially acquainted with that judge, and if you took him to lunch or engaged him in conversation on the subject of the Blakes, he might refer to the status of their petition.”

  “Perhaps you could do that for me?”

  “Eliot, since I have never handled a divorce as an attorney, nor have I been divorced, I have no knowledge of the inner workings or personnel of the family court.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “I was responding to your ‘oh.’”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s not start this again,” the senator said.

  “No.”

  “Perhaps Bill Eggers might have a better idea than you of the timeline in question.”

  “Why do you think that, Eliot?”

  “Well, if Benton is going to join Woodman & Weld upon his resignation as governor, that might relate to the date of his joining Woodman & Weld, and we could work from that time.”

  Stone sighed. “All right, Eliot, I’ll ask Bill if Benton is going to join us, and if so, when. I think that’s all I can do.”

  “That would be most helpful, Stone, and I would be most grateful.”

  “I’ll get back to you.” They said goodbye, and Stone called Eggers and was connected.

  “Good morning, Bill.”

  “Good morning, Stone.”

  “Eliot Saltonstall is driving me crazy,” Stone said.

  “That could be the title of a popular song,” Eggers said, “as in ‘You, You’re Driving Me Crazy.’”

  “Perhaps in an earlier era,” Stone replied.

  “Why is he driving you crazy?”

  “He wants to know the exact date Benton Blake will resign as governor.”

  “Why?”

  “So that Peter Rule can announce for the Senate before Benton has a chance to.”

  “Peter is running for the Senate?”

  Stone slapped his forehead. “I seem to have inadvertently started a rumor to that effect. Is it too late to swear you to secrecy?”

  “I’ll be happy to keep your secret, Stone—or rather, Peter’s secret.”

  “Thank you. I would not like to have Eliot trace such a rumor back to me.”

  “I understand entirely.”

  “Do you know the date Benton will resign?”

  “I do.”

  “Would it entail a breach of confidence if you were to tell me that date?”

  “It would.”
>
  “Oh.”

  “But I’ll tell you anyway, just to give young Peter a leg up on his announcement.”

  “Thank you.”

  There was a long silence, which Stone finally broke.

  “Bill?”

  “Yes?”

  “You were going to give me the date of Blake’s announcement.”

  “Oh, yes, I’m sorry, my mind wandered for a moment. The date. Now, let’s see—Benton expects Judge Ellis to approve his property settlement next Friday, and if he does so, Blake will make his announcement early on the following Monday, so as to make the morning shows.”

  “Ah, thank you.”

  “Of course, if Judge Ellis gets busy or something, that could change.”

  “Of course. Thank you, Bill. I’ll pass that on to Eliot.” They hung up, and Stone called Saltonstall.

  “Yes, Stone?”

  “Here’s what I’ve learned, Eliot. It is expected that Judge Ellis, who is presiding, will approve the Blakes’ property settlement next Friday, and if so, Benton will announce his resignation early on the following Monday, so as to make the morning shows.”

  “That’s wonderful news, Stone. Is that a certainty?”

  “No, it’s a target date, subject to change for all sorts of reasons, and you should treat it as no more than that.”

  “That’s troubling.”

  “Life is troubling, Eliot.”

  “All right, then I’ll suggest that Peter announce next Friday.”

  “I hope it all works out, Eliot.”

  “Oh, I expect it will. Goodbye, Stone.”

  “Goodbye, Eliot.”

  They both hung up. Stone was exhausted.

  39

  The following Friday, Stone was watching Morning Joe with his breakfast when Mika Brzezinski broke off an interview with some politico, pressed a finger to her ear, and said, “Hold on, we have breaking news. Let’s go to the Capitol in Washington, D.C., where Senator Eliot Saltonstall is making a statement.”

  The scene switched to the steps of the Capitol; fortunately, the sun was shining brightly. Eliot Saltonstall stood at a bank of microphones with a couple of dozen people, some of them United States senators, gathered behind him. “Good morning,” the senator said. “This is an important announcement for the people of New York State and of the United States. I wish to introduce to you Peter Rule, who, four years ago, joined my Senate staff as a junior assistant and who has since risen quickly to be first my senior legislative advisor and then my chief of staff. The people of New York State have come to know him as a supremely competent Senate staffer who has dealt with our constituents from Buffalo to New York City, helping to solve their problems with their government. Peter has an announcement to make. Peter?” Saltonstall stood aside and left the microphones to the younger man.