Rage Of Angels Part 42

When Jennifer arrived, a lone photographer from the Daily News Daily News was waiting. He stared at Jennifer and said, "It's true! You really handling the Santini case?" was waiting. He stared at Jennifer and said, "It's true! You really handling the Santini case?"

"How did you know that?" Jennifer demanded.

"A little birdie, counselor."

"You're wasting your time. No pictures."

She went inside and arranged for Eddie Santini's bail, stalling the proceedings until she was sure the television cameraman and a reporter and photographer had arrived from The New York Times. The New York Times. She decided she could not wait for the She decided she could not wait for the Post. Post.

The police captain on duty said, "There're some reporters and television people out front, Miss Parker. You can go out the back way if you want."

"It's all right," Jennifer said. "I'll handle them."

She led Eddie Santini to the front corridor where the photographers and reporters were waiting.

She said, "Look, gentlemen, no pictures, please."

And Jennifer stepped aside while the photographer and television cameraman took pictures.

A reporter asked, "What makes this case big enough for you to handle?"

"You'll find out tomorrow. Meanwhile, I would advise you not to use those pictures."

One of the reporters called out, "Come on, Jennifer! Haven't you heard of freedom of the press?"

At noon Jennifer got a call from Michael Moretti. His voice was angry. "Have you seen the newspapers?"

"No."

"Well, Eddie Santini's picture is all over the front pages and on the television news. I didn't tell you to turn this G.o.dd.a.m.ned thing into a circus!"

"I know you didn't. It was my own idea."

"Jesus! What's the point?"

"The point, Michael, is those three witnesses."

"What about them?"

"You said they got a good look at Eddie Santini. Well, when they get up in court to identify him, they're going to have to prove they didn't identify him because they saw his picture all over the newspapers and television."

There was a long silence, and then Michael's voice said admiringly, "I'm a son of a b.i.t.c.h!"

Jennifer had to laugh.

Ken Bailey was waiting in her office that afternoon when Jennifer walked in, and she knew instantly from the look on his face that something was wrong.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ken demanded.

"Tell you what?"

"About you and Mike Moretti."

Jennifer checked the retort that rose to her lips. Saying It's none of your business It's none of your business was too easy. Ken was her friend; he cared. In a way, it was his business. Jennifer remembered it all, the tiny office they had shared, how he had helped her. was too easy. Ken was her friend; he cared. In a way, it was his business. Jennifer remembered it all, the tiny office they had shared, how he had helped her. I've got a lawyer friend who's been bugging me to serve some subpoenas for him. I haven't got time. He pays twelve-fifty for each subpoena plus mileage. Would you help me out? I've got a lawyer friend who's been bugging me to serve some subpoenas for him. I haven't got time. He pays twelve-fifty for each subpoena plus mileage. Would you help me out?

"Ken, let's not discuss this."

His tone was filled with cold fury. "Why not? Everybody else is discussing it. The word is that you're Moretti's girl." His face was pale. "Jesus!"

"My personal life-"

"He lives in a sewer and you brought that sewer into the office! You've got us all working for Moretti and his hoodlums."

"Stop it!"

"I am. That's what I came to tell you. I'm leaving."

His words were a shock. "You can't leave. You're wrong about what you think of Michael. If you'll just meet him, you'll see-"

The moment the words were out, Jennifer knew she had made a mistake.

He looked at her sadly and said, "He's really wrapped you up, hasn't he? I remember you when you knew who you were. That's the girl I want to remember. Say good-bye to Joshua for me."

And Ken Bailey was gone.

Jennifer felt the tears begin to come, and her throat constricted so tightly that she could hardly breathe. She put her head down on the desk and closed her eyes, trying to shut out the hurt.

When she opened her eyes, night had fallen. The office was in darkness except for the eerie red glow cast by the city lights. She walked over to the window and stared out at the city below. It looked like a jungle at night, with only a dying campfire to keep away the encroaching terrors.

It was Michael's jungle. There was no way out of it.

43.

The Cow Palace in San Francisco was a madhouse, filled with noisy, chanting delegates from all over the country. There were three candidates vying for the presidential nomination, and each had done well in the primaries. But the star, the one who outshone them all, was Adam Warner. The nomination was his on the fifth ballot, and it was made unanimous. His party finally had a candidate they could put forward with pride. The inc.u.mbent President, the leader of the opposition party, had a low credibility rating and was considered by the majority of people to be inept.

"Unless you take your c.o.c.k out and pee in front of a camera on the six o'clock news," Stewart Needham told Adam, "you're going to be the next President of the United States."

After his nomination, Adam flew to New York for a meeting at the Regency Hotel with Needham and several influential members of the party. Present in the room was Blair Roman, head of the second largest advertising agency in the country.

Stewart Needham said, "Blair will be in charge of running the publicity end of your campaign, Adam."

"Can't tell you how glad I am to be aboard." Blair Roman grinned. "You're going to be my third President."

"Really?" Adam was not impressed with the man.

"Let me fill you in on some of the game plan." Blair Roman started pacing the room, swinging an imaginary golf club as he walked. "We're going to saturate the country with television commercials, build an image of you as the man who can solve America's problems. Big Daddy-only a young, good-looking Big Daddy. You get it, Mr. President?"

"Mr. Roman..."

"Yes?"

"Would you mind not calling me 'Mr. President'?"

Blair Roman laughed. "Sorry. Slip of the tongue, A.W. In my mind you're already in the White House. Believe me, I know you're the man for the job or I wouldn't be undertaking this campaign. I'm too rich to have to work for money."

Beware of people who say they're too rich to have to work for money, Adam thought.

"We know you're the man for the job-now we have to let the know you're the man for the job-now we have to let the people people know it. If you'll just take a look at these charts I've prepared, I've broken down different sections of the country into various ethnic groups. We're going to send you to key places where you can press the flesh." know it. If you'll just take a look at these charts I've prepared, I've broken down different sections of the country into various ethnic groups. We're going to send you to key places where you can press the flesh."

He leaned forward into Adam's face and said earnestly, "Your wife is going to be a big a.s.set. Women's magazines will go crazy for stuff on your family life. We're going to merchandise merchandise you, A.W." you, A.W."

Adam found himself beginning to get irritated. "Just how do you plan to do that?"

"It's simple. You're a product, A.W. We're going to sell you just like we'd sell any other product. We-"

Adam turned to Stewart Needham. "Stewart, could I see you alone?"

"Certainly." Needham turned to the others and said, "Let's break for dinner and meet back here at nine o'clock. We'll continue the discussion then."

When the two men were alone, Adam said, "Jesus, Stewart! He's planning to turn this thing into a circus! 'You're a product, A.W. We're going to sell you just like we'd sell any other product.' He's disgusting!"

"I know how you feel, Adam," Stewart Needham said soothingly, "but Blair gets results. When he said you're his third President, he wasn't kidding. Every President since Eisenhower has had an advertising agency masterminding his campaign. Whether you like it or not, a campaign needs salesmanship. Blair Roman knows the psychology of the public. As distasteful as it may be, the reality is that if you want to be elected to any public office, you have to be sold-you have to be merchandised."

"I hate it."

"That's part of the price you're going to have to pay." He walked over to Adam and put an arm across his shoulder. "All you have to do is keep the objective in mind. You want the White House? All right. We're going to do everything we can to get you there. But you have to do your part. If being the ringmaster in a three-ring circus is part of it, bear with it."

"Do we really need Blair Roman?"

"We need a a Blair Roman. Blair's as good as there is. Let me handle him. I'll keep him away from you as much as possible." Blair Roman. Blair's as good as there is. Let me handle him. I'll keep him away from you as much as possible."

"I'd appreciate that."

The campaign began. It started with a few television spots and personal appearances and gradually grew bigger and bigger until it spanned the nation. Wherever one went, there was Senator Adam Warner in living color. In every part of the country he could be watched on television, heard on radio, seen on billboards. Law and order was one of the key issues of the campaign, and Adam's crime investigation committee was heavily stressed.

Adam taped one-minute television spots, three-minute television spots and five-minute spots, geared for different sections of the country. The television spots that went to West Virginia dealt with unemployment and the vast supply of underground coal that could make the area prosperous; the television segments for Detroit talked about urban blight; in New York City, the subject was the rising crime rate.

Blair Roman confided to Adam, "All you have to do is. .h.i.t the highlights, A.W. You don't have to discuss key issues in depth. We're selling the product, and that's you. you."

Adam said, "Mr. Roman, I don't care what your G.o.dd.a.m.ned statistics say. I'm not a breakfast food and I don't intend to be sold like one. I will will talk about issues in depth because I think the American people are intelligent enough to want to know about them." talk about issues in depth because I think the American people are intelligent enough to want to know about them."

"I only-"

"I want you to try to set up a debate between me and the President, to discuss the basic issues."

Blair Roman said, "Right. I'll take a meeting with the President's boys right away, A.W."

"One more thing," Adam said.

"Yes? What's that?"

"Stop calling me A.W."

44.

In the mail was a notice from the American Bar a.s.sociation announcing its annual convention in Acapulco. Jennifer was in the midst of handling half a dozen cases, and ordinarily she would have ignored the invitation, but the convention was going to take place during Joshua's school vacation and Jennifer thought about how much Joshua would enjoy Acapulco.

She said to Cynthia, "Accept. I'll want three reservations."

She would take Mrs. Mackey along.

At dinner that evening, Jennifer broke the news to Joshua. "How would you like to go to Acapulco?"