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Authors: William Diehl

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Sharky's Machine (8 page)

BOOK: Sharky's Machine
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C
hapter Five

The man who arrived at one o’clock at the private suite in the Regal Hotel was short and unkempt. He needed a shave, his greying hair was frazzled and uncombed, his fierce grey eyes ringed with circles, lie wore a pair of baggy slacks, a mismatched sports jacket, and his tie was a disaster. He carried a cheap plastic snapshut briefcase under his arm and a copy of
The New York Times
he had brought with him on the early morning flight from Washington. And he was hyper; energy vibrated around him. He sucked noisily on an empty pipe, walking in tight little circles waiting for someone to answer his knock.

His appearance was deceiving. Julius Lowenthal, former advisor to two presidents and a gnawing antagonist for a third, had once been described by a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist as having the appearance of a burlesque comic and the mind of a Borgia.

One did not court Lowenthal’s services; he offered them. On this morning he was about to meet Senator Donald Walden Hotchins, Jr.

He was greeted at the door by another political curiosity. Physically, Charles Roan was Lowenthal’s alter ego: a tall, husky, pleasant man with an ebullient personality, boundless energy, and a taste for three-piece tailored suits. He was an open, buoyant man, unlike the caged lion that was Lowenthal. As Hotchins’s campaign manager Charley Roan had overcome two major drawbacks: he was a former All-American football player

a jock

and he had been Hotchins’s room-mate in college. Sixteen years earlier, when Hotchins had challenged one of the strongest old-line machine politicians in the state for governor, his appointment of Charley as campaign manager had been regarded as a joke. Nobody laughed any more. Roan had been the architect of a remarkable success, had guided Hotchins through two terms in the statehouse, a term as governor and finally had helped him defeat the state’s senior senator. It was Roan who had discreetly let it be known to Lowenthal that Hotchins needed him.

The suite was modest, a living room furnished with comfortable but undistinguished hotel furniture, a bedroom with a king-size bed, and a small kitchenette. Only a few of J-Hotchins’s closest confidants knew he maintained the suite. The senator was standing near a window when Lowenthal entered the room, He smiled and limped across it with the aid of a highly polished shillelagh, a tall, lean, handsome man, well-tanned, with blond hair and penetrating blue eyes. He was casually dressed in flared slacks and a dark blue sports shirt. He shook hands with Lowenthal.

‘How’s the foot?’ Lowenthal asked.

‘It’s okay. Occasionally it acts up when the weather’s bad.’

Lowenthal smiled. ‘Can you run on one leg when the weather’s bad?’

‘He can run on his bands if he has to,’ Charley Roan said. ‘I appreciate your coming,’ Hotchins said. ‘Do you think I’m crazy?’

‘Sure- I do,’ Lowenthal said. ‘Anybody who runs for public office is crazy. Anybody who runs for this office is mad as a hatter.’

Hotchins smiled. ‘Okay, welcome to the tea party. How about some coffee?’

‘Cream and sugar,’ Lowenthal said. ‘I stayed in the airport motel in Washington last night and sneaked out. I don’t think anybody knows Pm here. Once the press finds out, the cat’s out of the bag. Pd like to forestall that as long as possible.’

‘You can stay here. Nobody knows about this suite but a few of us. My press secretary. Pete Holmes, is at a luncheon. He’ll be along in an hour or so. He’s very good at handling the media.’

‘So I’ve heard.’

‘Well,’ Roan said, rubbing his hands together, ‘what do you think?’

‘What do I think?’ Lowenthal said raising his eyebrows. ‘What do I think about what?’

‘I think what Charley means is, What do you think of our chances?’

Lowenthal stuffed tobacco into his battered pipe and lit it, almost disappearing in a nuclearean smoke cloud. He waved the smoke away with a hand.

‘I think if you can survive until the convention, once you’ve made the announcement, you’ve got a chance. I also think that is one big if.’

‘I’m not a pussyfooter, Julius,’ Hotchins said. ‘Are you interested in working with us?’

‘That’s why I’m here, Mr. Senator.’

‘Great. That’s great!’ Roan said and slapped his hands together. Lowenthal felt a moment of annoyance before remembering that exuberance was one of the prices one paid for youth. ‘I took the liberty of talking to Bob Fitzgerald at the National Committee yesterday,’ Lowenthal said. ‘I hope you don’t object. I realize it was a bit unorthodox going ahead before we talked, but the timing seemed right to me. I operate on instincts, been living with them a long time. Usually don’t take time to question them, Ijust go.’

‘And how does Fitzgerald feel about us’?’ Hotchins asked.

‘Well, you got to remember that Fitz is an old party bull. He’s been chairman of the NC for ten years. He’s tough, probably the best machine politician this country’s seen since Tammany. He’s like an odds maker. He adds it all up and then he makes his bet.’

‘And?’ Hotchins said.

‘And he’s still betting on Humphrey.’

‘Humphrey!’ Roan bellowed. ‘Jesus Christ, he’s already been whipped once. Does he want to hand the election to Ford?’

‘The way he sees it, it’s going to be a free-for-all in New Hampshire, Wisconsin, West Virginia, and all the early runners are going to burn out in the stretch. We’re talking about a Jot of money and a lot of endurance. Hubert can afford to wait it out until May, maybe even June, then jump in at the last minute after all the shooting’s over and walk off with it.’

‘So,’ Hotchins said, ‘what it’s going to take is a long- distance runner with a lot of money.’

‘That’s it,’ Lowenthal said.

‘And he’s writing us off, right?’ Roan said.

‘He thinks Carter’s going to be the man in the South. And he doesn’t even give him a chance. He doesn’t think either one of you has a chance nationally. Doesn’t think you have the clout. You’ve stepped on too many toes. The insurance companies, the lobbyists, nuclear power. You’ve kicked a lot of ass, Mr. Senator.’

Hotchins smiled. ‘And there’s still plenty of kick left in my good foot,’ he said.

‘But that’s where the money is,’ said Lowenthal.

‘We got the money,’ said Roan.

‘We’re talking big money. Big money.’

‘We have big money. And we have stamina.’

‘How about Carter?’ said Lowenthal.

‘Well, how about him?’ Hotchins said..

‘He’s going to run. I talked to his people last week.’

‘We can take Carter,’ Roan said. ‘He hasn’t got the charisma Hotch has.’

‘And he’s soft on some key issues. I know Jimmy. We get along fine. I like him. But we can take him,’ Hotchins said. ‘We can beat him right here in the back room before be gets started. I guarantee it.’

Lowenthal nodded. ‘I agree. I think you can. But you’re going to have to beat him out of the gate and that means starting the race too soon. It’s dangerous.’

‘He’ll have to do the same. It’s a question of who comes out first. And we’re coming out next Monday,’ said Roan.

‘Next Monday!’ Lowenthal looked shocked.

‘We’ll lock the state before Jimmy gets out of bed,’ Roan said. ‘Then hit New Hampshire like the blizzard of ‘88.’

Lowenthal shook his head. ‘You’ll be on oxygen before spring,’ be said.

‘No way,’ Hotchins said and the intensity of his retort surprised Lowenthal. ‘I can hop faster and farther than any of them can run on two legs. I’ve been training for this for too long. Let ‘em think we’ll burn out. Let Fitzgerald think so.’

Lowenthal nibbled on his pipe. He was seeing a new side to Hotchins. Tough. Obsessed. A man who did not consider losing. Maybe he could do it. Maybe be just had the fever to do it. He decided to try another approach, another test. ‘Let me put it this way,’ he said, ‘You know how the National Committee works. They control party finances. They can also play hell with the convention, with delegates’ votes, simply by screwing with the convention rules. They browbeat, cajole, threaten, blackmail, call in favours

there are a hundred ways they can steal committed votes.

You could go all the way to the wire and see it vanish in a two- or three-ballot donnybrook.’

‘They tried it on Kennedy and got their ass handed to them,’ Roan said.

‘And Harry Truman,’ Hotchins added. ‘Talk about stamina. He whistle-stopped Dewey to death. We can do the same thing. To Carter, Udall, Frank Church, even Humphrey if we have to. We know all this. The question is, Do we need the committee?’

‘Academic question,’ Lowenthal said. ‘We don’t have ‘em, so why worry about it? Fitz’ll fight you all the way to the final ballot. I know him. I’ve been up against him before. He wants a winner; that’s the name of the game this year. And he doesn’t think you have a chance in hell. Look, you’re running, okay? You need money. If you’re a good party hack, they back you. If you’re a maverick, played by your own rules, voted against a few big party bills — which you have they run out of money just when you need it. So you can forget the committee for money and support. And it can get very lonely out there if the party strongarms are against you. They’ll throw everybody in the party at you in the early primaries. They may even quietly support some weak sisters to split the vote, throw it into a runoff. Make you spend more money. And what Fitz is looking for is for you to run out of breath in the stretch. He plays for longevity. Longevity is what counts.’

‘We’ll be waiting for him in New York come July,’ Hotchins said, with more than just confidence. The way he said it, it was a statement of fact.

Lowenthal shook his head and chuckled. ‘Well, if confidence alone could win it, you’d be on the way to Washington right now,’ he said. ‘But I must tell you, I don’t agree with this plan to announce on Monday. Hell, at least wait until after the New Year.’

‘We can’t,’ Roan said. ‘Carter’s getting ready himself.’

Lowenthal shook his head. ‘It’s Christmas. Nobody gives a damn about politics right now.’

‘They will,’ Hotchins said.

‘Damn, you’re determined!’ Lowenthal said.

Hotchins fixed himself a cup of tea and put half a spoonful of sugar into it. He stirred it slowly, looking at Lowenthal with his crystal blue eyes.

‘What’s your interest in me, Julius?’ he asked.

Lowenthal smiled. ‘Plain and simple? You’re a maverick and I like that, always have. I’ve been watching you for years. We believe in the same things.’ Then: ‘So much for idealism. Now we’ll get to the bottom line. You have style. You have a hell of a war record. But the big thing is, I don’t think Humphrey can beat Ford and I think you just might. Ford’s the weakest incumbent president the Democrats have ever run against, but that doesn’t mean he’s a pushover. He can shake the Nixon thing. He’s already done a pretty good job of that. My personal opinion is that a dark horse is going to take him. And they don’t come any darker than you right now.’

Hotchins and Roan both laughed.

‘Besides,’ Lowenthal said, ‘maybe, just maybe, you could make one hell of a president.’

Hotchins smiled warmly. Then he laughed out loud. ‘I’ll be a son of a bitch,’ he said. ‘That’s one hell of an answer.’

‘Good,’ Lowenthal said, ‘now let’s get to the nut-cutting fast. You got any secrets. Anything in the closet we ought to know about? Any illegitimate kids, bad friends, vices that may upset the little old ladies in Nebraska?’

Hotchins smiled to conceal a tiny shock that hit him in the stomach. A picture of Domino flashed past his eyes. ‘Of course not,’ he said casually.

‘We’ve been through this before,’ Roan said. ‘If there was anything, it would have been turned up by now.’

‘Not like this time. This time they’ll be all over you — into your business deals, your war record, your family life. Both parties in the beginning. I don’t want any surprises popping up at the last minute.’

‘What else?’ Hotchins said, killing that conversation.

‘What’s your net worth?’

Hotchins thought about that for a few moments. ‘I suøpose I’ll show close to a million dollars when my CPA finishes the audit. But most of that’s on paper. Investments, stock in trust to protect me from conflicts of interest.’

‘How much liquid?’

‘Less than two hundred thousand dollars.’

‘Our credit position is very strong,’ Roan said. ‘We can tap several banks. I’d say we can raise a million, maybe more to start with.’

‘Not enough.’

‘What is enough?’ Hotchins asked.

Lowenthal tapped dead ashes out of his pipe. Then he said, ‘Two million, minimum. It could go higher depending on how rough it gets. And no big contributors. It could hurt you later. It also could be illegal.’

Hotchins stared at the lawyer. He had to be careful with Lowenthal. No matter how tough he might talk, Lowenthal was known for his integrity. It was one of the traits that gave him credence and had ever since he had first appeared on the political scene during the Kennedy campaign. But Hotchins was thinking, Illegal? It was only illegal if they got caught and he knew DeLaroza well enough to know Victor would never get caught. Hotchins’s big concern was two million dollars. Vas his finance minister prepared to raise that kind of money? He thought he knew the answer.

‘We’ve got it,’ he said suddenly. ‘And without that son of a bitch Fitzgerald. I don’t want his money. I don’t want him until we get to New York. Then I want him with his hat in his hand, begging to get on board.’

He limped to the window and looked down at the street, at the little people scurrying back to their offices and after- lunch Alka Seltzers. The voters. ‘they were little people to him, humiliated by the routines of life, badgered by the banks and the mortgage companies and the institutions, running one step ahead of failure. His contempt for the common man was a deeply guarded secret, a flaw which could destroy him. And looking down at them he felt a deep rage that his future lay in their hands. But the emotion passed quickly.

‘So it’s Humphrey we have to beat,’ he mused aloud.

‘Hubert’s a fine man,’ Lowenthal said. ‘And a hell of a campaigner.’

‘He had his chance in ‘68,’ Hotchins said, and there was a snap to his voice, like a whip cracking. To Hotchins, he was a loser, a failure, like the little people below, a man who smiled in defeat and cried in public. Happy Warrior, hell. But he said nothing, for he sensed Lowenthal’s respect for the Minnesota senator.

BOOK: Sharky's Machine
13.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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