The Road to Omaha (65 page)

“Not too terribly pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Secretary,” said the Hawk. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t offer my hand.”

“This is insane, absolutely
insane
! Great issues are at stake, the ultimate strength, the
strike
force of the nation is in the balance!”

“And the only way to put it right is to get rid of those complaining?” asked MacKenzie. “You can’t talk, you can only get rid of the nuisances, who, incidentally, have a
very
legitimate case.”

“You’re twisting everything! There are other issues, economic issues, gargantuan financial losses—my God, my
boat
, the
Metropolitan
Club, my class
reunion
, the life I deserve, I was
born
to! You don’t understand!”

“
I
do, you smelly
prichute
,” said Vincent Mangecavallo, walking forward in the dull wash of light. “Like certain people can be useful to you, but you got no use for
them
!”

“Who are
you
? I’ve seen you before, I know your voice, but I can’t… I can’t—”

“Maybe because my own mother, may she rest in peace in Lauderdale, wouldn’t know me, either, due to my one terrific disguise.” Vinnie removed his red wig and squatted in front of the Secretary of State. “Hello,
fazool
, how
are
ya? Maybe your country club boys blew up the wrong boat, wadd’ya think of that?”

“
Mangecavallo
!… No,
no
! I went to your memorial service the other day! You’re gone, you’re
dead
! This isn’t
happening
to me!”

“Maybe it isn’t, you big
diplomatico
, maybe it’s all a bad dream brought on by the evil in your rotten soul. Maybe I just rose from the arms of Morphine—”

“Morpheus, Commander Y,
Morpheus.
”

“Yeah, him.… Like from the dead across that big river, come back to haunt you pricks who think you’re so
superiore
, like what goes through your stomachs comes out vanilla ice cream. Yeah,
fazool
, I’m back from the fishes, and the sharks came with me. They give me respect; you never did.”

“
Auggh
!” Suddenly, with a shriek that pierced the night and disturbed the floodlit crowds at the Lincoln Memorial, the Secretary of State wriggled like a trapped reptile, sprang to his feet, and raced screaming hysterically across the grounds.

“I gotta
catch
that son of a bitch!” yelled Mangecavallo, getting up, but not easily, because of his weight. “He’ll spill everything!”

“
Forget
it!” cried the Hawk, tripping the CIA director. “He’s finished, he’s out.”

“Wadd’ya talkin’? He’s
seen
me!”

“It won’t matter. No one will believe him.”

“Mac, you’re not making sense!” insisted Brokey the Deuce. “Do you know who this man
is
?”

“Sure I do, and I’m making sense, too.… So you’re really that Italian fella who ran the Agency?”

“Yeah, it’s a long story, and I don’t like long stories. I got carried away.
Shit
!”

“Melodramatic emotionalism is one of the finest gifts of your race,
signore
. Think of the great operas—no one could have created them but yourselves.
Capisce Italiano
?”

“Sure, I speak.”

“
Lo capirete inoltre.
”

“That’s beautiful, but that cannoli is going to blow apart the whole fuckin’ ball of wax!”

“No, he’s not, Signor Mangecavallo.… Brokey, do you remember Frank Heffelfinger?”

“ ‘Finger Frank,’ with his digits on the wrong six-inchers? Who the hell wouldn’t? He blew up the wrong beaches in Wonsan. Naturally, none of us ever say anything, especially now since he’s the President’s clown prince in the navy stag department.”

“I spoke to Frank. That’s why Pease was here.”

“So?”

“The Finger’s waiting by his phone now. He’s got one other call to make. To his buddy, the President.”

“About
what
?”

“About Pease’s state of mind, which is the result of a very strange telephone conversation Frank had with the Secretary this afternoon. After thinking about that call all day, he’s decided to tell his friend in the White House about his concerns.… Come on, we’ve got to find a phone booth. And damn quick, too, I’ve got to catch the shuttle back to New York.”

“Hey, G.I. Joe!” cried Mangecavallo. “What about you and me getting to that hearing?”

“That’s under control, Commander Y. You’ll be with the Wopotamis. Naturally, I’ll have to get your measurements, but we can do that quickly. The squaws are excellent seamstresses—almost as good as Mrs. Lafferty.”

“
Squaws
? We got Irish-American
Indians
? This guy’s
pazzo
!”

“Have faith, Mr. Director. The Hawk moves in mysterious ways.”

“Come, gentlemen,” ordered MacKenzie. “Triple quick-march. There’s a phone booth at the edge of the parking lot. Let’s roll!”

The three red-wigged men ran across the grounds in varying degrees of breathlessness, the only words, however, from Vinnie the Bam-Bam, who kept repeating. “
Mannaggia, mannaggia
! It’s all crazy!
Pazzo, pazzo, pazzo
!”

THE WASHINGTON POST

SECRETARY OF STATE HOSPITALIZED
TAKEN TO PSYCHIATRIC WARD
AT WALTER REED HOSPITAL

Warren Pease, Secretary of State, wearing the garb of a Catholic priest, was taken into custody last evening while running amok through the crowds at the Lincoln Memorial. According to the police, as well as witnesses, Mr. Pease kept screaming that some “specter” he could not or would not identify had “risen from the dead” and had “come back to haunt his rotten soul.” He also claimed that a “painted hermaphrodite from hell” had threatened to slash his “pockets and his throat” because he/she determined he was an (expletive deleted) which he kept screaming he was not because “he forgave her for her sins.”

The Secretary has no history of being an ordained priest or minister, and would therefore have no powers of religious absolution. (Our editors have diligently researched this fact.)

A late report from the White House, however, may shed light on this incredible event. Maurice Fitzpeddler, the press secretary, said that the nation should have only great sympathy for the stressed, overburdened Mr. Pease and his family, although when questioned, Mr. Fitzpeddler admitted that the divorced Secretary Pease had no family. Adding to this, the President allowed, through Mr. Fitzpeddler, that he had received a telephone call yesterday calling into question the state of the Secretary’s extreme stress under the pressures of his office. He asked that the nation pray for Mr. Pease’s recuperation and “his release from a straitjacket.”

It should be noted here that the President’s Chief of Staff, Arnold Subagaloo, smiled throughout the press conference. When questioned about his expression, the Chief of Staff gave the press an erect middle finger.

It was shortly past midnight when MacKenzie Hawkins walked into the lobby of the Waldorf-Astoria and, as arranged, went to the front desk to pick up whatever messages were left for Suite 12A—no names, merely the room number. There were two:

Call Beverly Hills
.
Reach Worm City
.

As it was three hours earlier in California, he decided to call Madge first in Greenwich, Connecticut. He recrossed the lobby to a pay phone.

“Midgey, I’m sorry it’s so late, but I just got in.”

“No sweat, Mac dear, I’m still working on the outline. I’ll have it finished in less than an hour, and the courier service will bring it down right away; you should have it by two-thirty. Hawk, it’s
terrific
! Straight boffo box office across all markets!”

“Now, Midge, don’t go sounding too Hollywood, it gets a mite hard.”

“Sorry, you’re right, darling. It’s just that everyone talks
like that to work up enthusiasm for a project. The more the hype, the better the pitch.”

“March to your own drummer, girl. You’ve got too much class for that.”

“With
worms
, Mac?”

“Well, you were fashioning a commodity.”

“You can bank on it, and I have.”

“But I’m pleased you think the Suicidal thing’s got possibilities… frankly, I did, too.”

“Darling, it’s pure
gelt
!… Gold, Mac, I mean gold.
Actors
traveling the world over as an antiterrorist unit, and it’s
real
!”

“You think I could get a couple of West Coast types interested—”

“
Interested
?” she interrupted. “Then you haven’t talked to Ginny yet, have you?”

“No, I figured it was earlier out there, so I called you first.”

“I spoke to her late this afternoon, after I listened to the tapes, and we had a long talk. You’re in for a surprise, Mac. She’s been networking since three-thirty, California time.”

“ ‘Networking’? Midgey, you’re picking up some very odd language, and I’m not sure I approve. It sounds coarse.”

“No, darling, that one’s okay, it’s really standard. It’s just taking a noun and turning it into a verb.”

“That sounds better—”

“But, Hawk, you
listen
to me,” broke in Madge of Worm City. “I know you sometimes get a little overprotective about us girls, and we love you for it, but you’ve got to promise me something.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t beat the shit out of Manny Greenberg. Don’t give him the deal, but don’t break his face.”

“Now,
Midgey
, that’s plain vulgar—”

“Gotta go, Mac. I’m getting near the finish line here and my word processor’s smoking. Call Ginny, darling. Love, as always.”

“The residence of Lord and Lady Cavendish,” announced the adenoidal Anglican on the line from California. “The name, please?”

“Guy Burgess calling from Moscow.”

“It’s all right, I’ve got it!” Ginny broke in quickly. “He’s such an old tease, Basil.”

“Yes, madam,” said the butler in a devastating monotone as he hung up the phone.

“Mac, sweetie, I’ve been waiting hours for your call. I’ve got wonderful news!”

“Which, I gather from Madge, includes not engaging Manny in hand-to-hand combat.”

“Oh, him—no, don’t, he can be useful in an auction but not if he’s in the hospital. To tell you the truth, I started with Manny, breaking my rule never to talk to ex-husbands while my lawyers are talking to their lawyers, and it worked.”

“What worked? What’s an auction?”

“Midgey says the concept is not only
sensational
, it’s a landmark in the worldwide gold stakes! She says it’s all
there
, everything—and it’s
got
everything! Actors—
hunks
, six of them—flying all over freeing hostages, capturing terrorists, and it’s all
true
I gave Manny just a hint … after he agreed to leave the paintings alone, naturally … and when I told him that Chauncey was reaching some
‘cinema
chaps’ in London, Manny screamed for his secretary to schedule the studio plane.”

“Ginny, for God’s sake, slow down! You’re grasshopping from one thing to another and not making sense.… Now what’s Manny doing, and what did this ‘Chauncey’ do, and who the hell is he?”

“My husband, Mac!”

“Oh, the Grenadier, yes, I remember now. Damn fine regiments, all of ’em; first rate in combat. What
did
he do?”

“I told you, he’s a great admirer of yours, and when Madge called and began explaining what you had on those tapes, I asked him to get on the line—what with his being so military and everything.”

“What did he think?”

“He said it was similar to the Fourth or Fortieth Royal Commandos who were recruited from the Old Vic and had
what he called ‘only marginal success,’ because they kept ‘breaking silence.’ He wants to talk to you about it and compare notes.”

“
Goddamn
, put him on the phone, Ginny!”

“
No
, Mac, there isn’t time. Besides, he’s not here. He’s over at the armory in Santa Barbara playing polo with the British colony.”

“So what did he
do
?”

“Hawk, you must be tired and need to have your shoulders massaged. I
told
you. He thought the whole thing Midgey’s putting together for you has the earmarks of a megahit and called some friends of his in London to let them know about it.”

“So?”

“They’re taking the early morning Concorde and will be here before they took off from London.”

“Be where?”

“In New York. To see you.”

“Tomorrow … 
today
?”

“Where you are, yes.”

“And your ex, Greenberg?”

“Tomorrow morning—
this
morning for you. Also, since I had Manny and Chauncey’s friends on the record—out here everyone checks out everything, including airline passenger lists and the schedules of studio planes—I called a few other hotshots who want Chauncey at their dinner tables, and gave out a little inside information. You’re going to have a busy day, sweetie.”

“By Caesar, you’re on the mark, it
is
wonderful! But frankly, Gin-Gin, I knew you girls would come through for me, except I sort of figured later on, like early next week—not Friday to Monday, of course, because I’m kind of tied up with other endeavors—”