The Wrecker by Clive Cussler (book club reads .TXT) 📕

“She’s getting into the elevator! Come on, Isaac!”

Crowds of people were waiting for the elevators. Bell led Abbott through the canvas rain curtains, down the outside stairway, and into the cavernous lobby on the ground floor that served all three theaters in the building.

“There she is!”

Lillian Hennessy and Senator Kincaid were surrounded by admirers. Women were vying to shake his hand while their husbands elbowed one another trying to make Lillian’s acquaintance. It was doubtful that their wives noticed or even cared. Bell saw two of them slip their calling cards surreptitiously into Kincaid’s pocket.

Taller than most, and experienced in barroom brawls and riot control, the Van Dorn detectives parted the crush like a squadron of battleships. Lillian smiled at Bell.

Bell focused his gaze on Kincaid and Kincaid looked his way with a friendly wave.

“Isn’t the show wonderful?” the Senator called over heads as Bell drew near. “I love the theater. You know, I heard you talking with Kenny Bloom about running off to the circus. For me, it was the stage instead of the circus. I always wanted to be an actor. I even ran off with a touring company, before sanity prevailed.”

“Like my good friend Archie Abbott here. Archie, meet Senator Charles Kincaid, a fellow thwarted thespian.”

“Good evening, Senator,” Abbott said, extending his hand politely but missing Kincaid’s hand entirely as he gaped at Lillian.

“Oh, hello, Lillian,” said Bell casually. “May I present my old friend Archibald Angel Abbott?”

Lillian started to bat her eyes in the style of Anna Held. But it seemed as if something she saw in Abbott’s face made her look again. He had compelling gray eyes, and Bell saw them working full steam to keep her attention. Her gaze traversed the scars on Abbott’s brow and took in his red hair and sparkling smile. Kincaid said something to her, but she did not seem to hear as she looked Abbott squarely in the face and said, “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Abbott. Isaac has told me all about you.”

“Not all, Miss Hennessy, or you would have fled the room.”

Lillian laughed, Archie preened, and the Senator looked very displeased.

Bell used the excuse of the poker debt to nudge Kincaid away from Archie and Lillian. “I did enjoy our game of draw. And it was a pleasure to receive your calling card, but a check for the amount written on it would stir even better memories.”

“My check will be here tomorrow,” Kincaid replied affably. “You’re still at the Yale Club?”

“Until further notice. And you, Senator? Will you be in New York a while or are you off to Washington?”

“Actually, I’m leaving for San Francisco in the morning.”

“Isn’t the Senate in session?”

“I am chairman of a subcommittee conducting a hearing in San Francisco about the Chinese problem.” He looked around at the mobs of theatergoers trying to catch his attention, took Bell’s elbow, and lowered his voice. “Between us poker players, Mr. Bell, the hearing will mask my true purpose for traveling to San Francisco.”

“And what is that?”

“I’ve been persuaded by a select group of California businessmen to listen to them implore me to run for president.” He winked con spiratorially. “They offered to take me on a camping trip in the redwoods. You can imagine what little pleasure a former bridge builder takes in sleeping out of doors. I told them I would prefer one of their fabled western resort lodges. Antlers, stuffed grizzly bears, pine logs... and indoor plumbing.”

“Are you persuadable?” asked Bell.

“Between you and me, I’m playing hard to get. But of course I would be deeply honored to run for president,” said Kincaid. “Who wouldn’t? It is the dream of every politician who serves the public.”

“Would Preston Whiteway be one of those California businessmen?”

Kincaid looked at him sharply.

“Shrewd question, Mr. Bell.”

For a moment, locked eye to eye, the two men could have been standing alone on a cliff in Oregon instead of in a crowded theater lobby on the Great White Way.

“And your answer?” asked Bell.

“I am not at liberty to say. But so much depends upon what President Roosevelt decides to do next year. I can’t see any room for me if he wants a third term. At any rate, I prefer if you would keep that under your hat.”

Bell said he would. He wondered why a United States senator would confide in a man he had only met once. “Have you confided in Mr. Hennessy?”

“I will confide in Osgood Hennessy at the proper time, which is to say after such an arrangement is consummated.”

“Why wait? Wouldn’t a railroad president be helpful to your cause?”

“I would not want to raise his hopes of having a friend in the White House at this early stage only to dash them.”

The lobby lights flashed on and off, signaling an end to the intermission. They returned to their seats in the rooftop theater.

Abbott said to Bell, “What a wonderful girl.”

“What do you think of the Senator?”

“What senator?” asked Abbott, waving across the boxes to Lillian.

“Do you still think he’s a stuffed shirt?”

Abbott looked at Bell, perceived that he was not asking idly, and answered in all seriousness, “Certainly acts like one. Why do you ask, Isaac?”

“Because I have a feeling that there is more to Kincaid than meets the eye.”

“From the look he gave me when he saw me talking to her, he would kill to get his mitts on Miss Lillian and her fortune.”

“He wants to be president, too.”

“Of the railroad?” asked Archie. “Or the United States?”

“The United States. He told me he’s having a secret meeting with California businessmen who want him to run if Teddy Roosevelt doesn’t stand again next year.”

“If it’s secret, why did he tell you?” asked Archie.

“That’s what I was wondering. Only a complete fool would blab that about.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Good question, Archie. Funny thing is, he said nothing about William Howard Taft.”

“That’s like not mentioning the elephant in the drawing room. If Roosevelt doesn’t choose to run for a third term, then Secretary of War