Woman King

CHAPTER 27

There is an old French saying one of my teachers would use to scold us for misbehaving when she left the room. Quand le chat n’est pas là, les souris dansent. When the cat’s away the mice will dance. In other words, leave the children alone, and they will get into mischief. The same holds true for campaigns. There is no rest until the end, no moment when you can let your guard down. Every word must be spoken with intent, and every action must be carefully vetted to weigh its potential impact. One step in the wrong direction can be the end. To be a good candidate requires discipline. As with all things in life, without discipline, you get chaos.

I let out a few more expletives as I scanned the emails.

“Darlin, you sound like some of the men I’ve heard in the trenches.”

“I assure you I can do worse,” I said. “Listen, something happened last night after we left. I need to get in touch with Gabriel. I will probably need to get out of here quickly and go back to my house. I need my laptop and my phone charger.” I dreaded dialing his number. I knew he would be furious at me for being out of touch. C’est la vie, I thought. I can’t take it back; I can only try to fix the mess.

“Olivia,” Gabriel said, his French accent weighing down the first vowel of my name. “Call Levi, he will explain everything. There is a video; that damn reporter Richard invited took it. After you speak with Levi, call me back.”

I pressed the number on my speed-dial for Levi. He picked up on the first ring.

“Where have you been?” was his only greeting. “I have been trying to reach you for hours. The reporter, you know the one Richard invited, he videotaped us…Richard and me …I don’t know what happened. Last night I thought perhaps that he’d had too much to drink. He said…some unfortunate things.”

“I know about the video,” I said, scanning my email. “Let me take a look and I will call you back in five minutes.”

William, who had walked out of the room, returned with what looked like a brand new MacBook. We sat at his desk, side by side, and called up YouTube to view the video. Even before watching the video, my heart sank. The clip had already been viewed 10,000 times. The video itself was shaky at best; JP had clearly filmed it with his phone at a distance so the two men would not see him.

They were standing on the deck at Richard’s house, near the bar, illuminated by outside lights mounted to the side of the house. Levi and Richard clearly were already in the middle of a conversation. Richard looked agitated. He was holding a glass of wine in his hand, but didn’t appear to be drunk.

“Come on, Levi. Do you honestly believe that woman has a chance? She thinks the Bible should be the basis for all of our laws, for the Supreme Court for Christ’s sake. She is crazy and so are her few meager supporters. They’re pathetic, the lot of them. Those fat, lazy high-school dropouts…Why on earth should they forever have jobs building houses, or making cheap American cars no one wants to buy? There is no room for them in this new economy. What person in their right mind would support someone who wants to ‘ask for a sign from God’ to fix immigration? This is Silicon Valley, not the Beverly Hillbillies. People are smart enough to know better.”

I watched the video five times in succession, trying to memorize all of the words and gestures. The one thing that stood out immediately was that Levi never said a word. He never agreed with Richard. On the flip side, he didn’t try to stop him either. At the end, when Richard had finished his tirade, Levi said, “OK, Richard. Let’s go inside now. Let’s let the voters make up their minds. I think they can be trusted to make good choices.”

Levi’s faith in voters was something I could use. It was a small thing, but it provided the foundation necessary to build a plan for responding. The bitter irony of the moment settled upon me as I prepared to conference in Gabriel and Levi. I had assumed Stoner Halbert would try to do something directed at me personally. Now, it appeared that either Halbert’s demon had come in contact with Richard and egged on his outburst, or we’d been walking around with a ticking time bomb inside the campaign for weeks.

I’d warned Levi not to jinx us.

I pulled out my phone, which was beeping frantically, to see what the noise was about and ran smack into a set of Twitter feeds from Lacy Smith’s campaign.

Barnes must quit campaign.

Intellectual elite have no place in government

It’s of the people, by the people.

William leaned over my shoulder as I scanned the tweets. “I call it Constitutional haiku,” I said. “It’s a favorite of conservatives.”

“Smart,” William said. “They are striking while the news cycle is hot.”

I nodded in agreement. I had to acknowledge their discipline, but I had no intention of letting Levi resign, at least not yet. I picked up the phone, resolved to put Humpty-Dumpty back together again. I dialed Levi and conferenced Gabriel in to the conversation.

“Levi, get Richard on the line,” I said, as I rummaged around for a piece of paper in William’s desk. I found a yellow legal pad and began to doodle as I spoke to relieve some of my nervous energy.

“Richard isn’t answering his phone,” Levi said, sounding apprehensive.

“I bet,” I said. “Listen, I’ve reviewed the video, as well as the story JP wrote. I also reviewed Lacy’s tweets calling for your resignation. It looks bad, but I think it can be fixed.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” I continued. “First, Richard is going to issue a big, fat apology for his thoughtless remarks, which I will write for him shortly. Next, we will hold a press conference in Palo Alto tomorrow to discuss what he said. We’re going to make sure everybody knows this is about him at the moment and what Levi’s response is going to be.”

“That’s it?” Levi asked.

“No, there’s more. I will be leaving shortly for Palo Alto to begin on-the-street interviews with voters, to gauge what they really think about this situation. Patrick and Maggie from the campaign will conduct a quick phone survey, using some of the voters we identified in our poll.’

“While we do our work, Levi, you need to come up with a gesture, a donation of some kind that will unequivocally demonstrate your respect and belief that no one gets left behind in this new economy. Unemployment is still high with blue-collar voters; you must reassure them that you will help them find work. We need a donation to a major foundation that funds job training and career transition programs. Finally, both of you should plan on being in Palo Alto later this evening. We’ll regroup then and put all of these pieces of the puzzle together. Is everything clear?”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” said Levi. “What time is the conference tomorrow?”

“I’m recommending 3 pm; that way we can make the 5 pm news cycle.”

“Will you let JP into the conference?” asked Gabriel.

“Of course,” I said. “It won’t do at all to shoot the messenger. I’m leaving now to pick up my gear and go. As ritzy as it sounds, I will be checking into the Four Seasons by the highway. I’ll see you later this evening.”

Time was ticking away… I was anxious to get started. I put my phone away and gathered my things to leave.

“You’re as good as any general in the field,” William said, standing in the doorway watching me.

“I don’t know about that,” I said. “I led our troops right into this mess, this is my fault.”

“You think because you didn’t go out to dinner, JP decided to write something negative?”

“Sure, isn’t it obvious?”

“Darlin, you’re a campaign manager, not an escort. If JP was basing his favorable coverage on your affections, then this was bound to happen, regardless. You were never going to end up in his bed; you said so yourself.”

“I did. Shit. Why did Richard Lyon invite JP in the first place? Before I knew you, I would often tell people that reporters are a lot like vampires—you should never invite them into your house because you can’t get them out.”

William laughed as we walked downstairs to his garage. “That’s a bunch of folktale nonsense,” he said. “We can come and go anywhere we please.”

William took me home and I quickly picked up my gear and left for Palo Alto. I phoned my staff from my car and asked them draw up a script to use in the phone interviews. My plan was to conduct in-person interviews at the Stanford Shopping Mall and among small businesses along University Avenue.

Being able to read people’s emotions put me in a good position to conduct voter interviews. It’s common knowledge in the industry that people often lie, or minimize things when they participate in surveys, especially on the phone. No one wants to tell a stranger they drink four cocktails a night, or eat red meat five days a week. It’s the same with their views on candidates and political issues. Most people don’t want to tell you they don’t like someone when they have to look you in the eye. None of that would matter for me, though, because I would know their true emotions whether they shared them or not.

Thankfully, traffic was light and I made it to Palo Alto quickly. As I pulled into the parking lot of the shopping center, I readied myself for an afternoon of reading people.

After several hours of speaking with voters, I took refuge in a café on University Avenue to rest my tired feet and type up my notes. I ordered a chai latte. Elsa’s love of all things tea rubbing off on me. I sipped the frothy, fragrant milk feeling both exhausted and exhilarated after my conversations. I couldn’t wait to relay the results of my discussion with the team.

I had been typing for about an hour when Stoner Halbert suddenly appeared in front of me. It was a shock to see him; we’d managed to sidestep each other for months. I’d avoided him when he was in the midst of stealing all of my clients. Later, when I joined the Council and had given up any work connected to him, I became too busy to care.

Halbert took the chair directly in front of me. A changed man stood before me. It was difficult to fathom this was the person who’d ruined so many of my days months ago. Now his aura was hollow, as if someone had stolen his very essence. The blue eyes peering into me were flat and dark.

Sitting in silence, regarding each another across the table, it struck me that I should have been more intimidated to face such a creature, this weasel that stole from the nests of others to feed himself. But I was no longer flying blind; I could read people’s intentions, see their true colors. It hadn’t been easy, but I’d come to trust my instincts and my intuition, two powerful forces that have served women for centuries. Elsa had prepared me for a moment like this, when I could sit face-to-face with an old nemesis and breathe a sigh of relief.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” I said. “What brings you here?”

Halbert licked his lips and sat for a moment before replying. His gestures were human enough to keep people from noticing, but to me, his air of decay was unmistakable, as if he would peel open at any moment and allow some malevolent beast to come pouring out of his center.

“I came to discuss the terms of your surrender,” he said. “You must have known I would be the one to take you down. I felt I should deliver the message in person.”

As odd as it may sound, I was delighted by his remarks because it showed that he didn’t know what I knew: that the majority of local voters cared very little about Richard’s comments. My interviews had revealed that most people were too busy living their lives to tune in to these kinds of petty clashes. And the few who had heard about the video were more interested in Levi’s words and actions than those of his friends. Everyone, it turns out, can relate to being at a party where someone you know says something embarrassing. Halbert, meanwhile, had to stick with the media and their views on controversy—something that didn’t necessarily indicate voter interest.

“Why should I surrender, as you put it?”

“To avoid humiliating yourself,” he said, clearly enjoying the conversation.

“I see,” I said, nodding as if it was the most logical thing in the world. “So you would like us to resign and let your boss run unopposed with six weeks to go in the election?”

“Exactly,” he said with a sense of satisfaction.

His comments were designed to enrage me, but I knew that keeping my temper in check was crucial. Halbert had no gift to read thoughts or emotions. He was one-dimensional. If people looked like losers, then they were. Some in the press might already have made up their minds that our campaign was about to collapse under the weight of Richard’s comments, but I knew better. Tomorrow we would put the campaign back on its rightful course, but I didn’t want Halbert to know it. That secret was all mine, and for once I had something he couldn’t steal. Now it was my turn to prolong the reply, and I sat back savoring the silence that stretched before us.

“I’ll think about it,” I said. “You had better ask Lacy to pray that I make the right decision.”

Having failed to get the response he was expecting from me, Halbert’s face twisted into a grimace. I was tempted to taunt him further, but realized it was time to end our discussion. His overt waves of hostility were starting to alarm the other café patrons.

“I think it’s time for you to leave, Stoner. You’ve delivered your message,” I said. “Now you can go back and report that you’ve done your job.”

“Yes, but what is your response?” he asked tersely. “Will you quit the race?”

“I said we would think about it. You don’t believe I would actually make that decision for Levi without discussing it with him,” I said, feigning surprise. “I am a campaign manager, not a puppeteer.”

He rose from his seat, his eyes full of malicious intent. He seemed poised to say something, maybe a threat. I decided to cut him off.

“Halbert, you mad, old stray dog,” I said. “Look at you chained up at the post, waiting to attack. When you sold your soul to the devil, did you expect to become his pet? I’m through being your meal ticket, so you’ll have to look elsewhere. Now, I think you had better leave before my boyfriend comes over and disembowels you right here at the table.” That caused Halbert to look up and search his surroundings.

William had come into the café minutes earlier. I could feel his presence as he pressed gently to signal his arrival. As Halbert made for the doors to leave, I turned around and scanned the room until I spotted William sitting in the far corner, reading a book. I knew he would not approach me until we were outside. We had agreed on a plan to help protect the campaign. I would drive to Palo Alto alone. He would follow later by train, so there would be no second vehicle for the media to notice.

After Halbert exited, I rose slowly from my seat, giving my lower back a chance to catch up with the rest of my body. I grabbed my bag and left the café. William was already outside waiting for me.

“Miss Shepherd, my name is William. I’ll be driving you back to the hotel,” he said, his words intended for anybody who might be watching.

I nodded and stayed mute, as I was certain Halbert was nearby watching. I handed William the car keys, and he slowly walked behind the car toward the driver’s side, keeping vigilant along the way. One part lover, one part bodyguard, I thought to myself, although he picked right up on the sentiment.

“With me, they are one and the same, darlin, one and the same,” he said. “How did the interviews go? Good news?”

I was almost too excited to speak. “Really well, and the phone surveys, too,” I said. “As far as our research is concerned, voters don’t hold Levi responsible for his friend’s remarks. If Richard issues an apology and disappears for the rest of the campaign, we should be able to right this ship.”

“Is that what you told Halbert?” William teased. “He looks awful, by the way.”

“Wow, vampires have excellent hearing,” I said. “What else did you hear?”

“Apart from threatening to have your boyfriend kill him, I think my favorite line was ‘mad, old stray dog,’ ” he said. “I believe you could write your own bluegrass songs.”

We both laughed and I slid back in my seat, relieved to have someone to talk to after such a grueling day. He took my hand in his as we drove, and within minutes we reached the circular driveway of the Four Seasons. William insisted we check in under his name and booked us into a suite on the 15th floor. It made sense. We needed a large room to work in, and didn’t want anyone in the media to know our whereabouts while we prepared for the next day.

I scanned the suite as the bellman led us into the living room, checking for electrical outlets, the one thing hotel rooms always have too few of. This was to be our campaign’s secret field office for the next several hours. Gabriel and Levi were set to arrive shortly. Maggie was on her way, bringing a portable wireless printer. We would need enough electricity to power a small city, when everyone in our group arrived with their phones and laptops.

When Maggie arrived, William left the main room, leaving us to set up my laptop and the printer. As was his way, he’d wandered off into one of the suite’s two bedrooms to read and play guitar. Since we’d met, I found myself repeatedly taken with his ability to sit quietly and soothe himself. I hoped when the campaign was over, he would teach me how to adopt some of his methods, although I had serious doubts I had the personality to be so restful with my time.

Not long after we set up, there was a gentle knock at the door. William walked out of the bedroom to investigate.

“It’s them,” he said, peering through the peephole, and he quickly opened the door.

Gabriel and Levi walked in, looking exhausted. Twenty-four hours is a long time to be in the churn of the news cycle, and from the look of things, it had been rough on them. I could feel Levi’s deep, deep sadness at the predicament he found himself in. Gabriel, on the other hand, was angry, with Richard, I presumed, or maybe even me.

He wanted to know what had happened today. The thought came into my head clearly and I sent one back just as fast. All in good time, I pushed back to him. I will set your mind at ease. He looked up and nodded, a thin smile on his face.

Levi and Gabriel went into the living room, sinking into a pair of plush library chairs that had been decorated in a jaunty brown and blue French sailor stripe. Now that they were both comfortable, I jumped at a chance to try to relieve Levi.

“As you know, I’ve spent the better part of today interviewing registered voters, while Maggie and Patrick from our campaign conducted about fifty phone interviews, using numbers we got when we ran our poll of the participants who had given permission to contact them again.”

Levi listened, trying to be patient, but clearly wished I’d cut to the chase.

“The bottom line is that after dozens of interviews with voters, we believe that this will not harm your campaign permanently, so long as Richard apologizes and you indicate very concretely that you disagree with his views. If we do those two things, we should be able to pull out of this.”

“The donation,” Levi asked. “Is that still something we want to do?”

“Absolutely,” I said. “Tell me what you have in mind.”

Levi leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes as he spoke. “I have a friend who founded a charity in the Valley called Vocational Service Corps or VSC. It’s a non-profit that helps people find employment and provides classes to improve skills, rewrite resumes, those kinds of things. I am prepared to donate $5 million over the next five years to help start a drop-in program for people who’ve been notified they’ll lose their jobs. Studies show people who prepare are often better able to find work quickly. I’ll place one hundred percent of the money in a trust for them and they can draw the funds annually.”

“Ç’est bon,” Gabriel said.

“It’s perfect, and very generous,” I said.

Levi shook his head ruefully. “The sad thing is that I planned on doing something like this anyway, but now it will also look like a gesture forced under duress.”

“Yes, mon ami, but it’s an elegant gesture, and that is what will be remembered