The Heritage Paper

Chapter 69



Lower Manhattan was packed to the rafters as darkness had settled in. The energy reminded Veronica of New Year’s Eve in Times Square.

Youkelstein had come to the end of his road. He started losing consciousness and they decided to drive him directly to the hospital. He railed against it—it was like trying to get Picasso to the vet.

His physician was based out of Beth Israel Hospital on 16th Street. They stopped in front and Zach carried him in. He dropped him in the lobby without explanation and returned to the car. They then miraculously found a spot near the park at Stuyvesant Square—a place Veronica often took the kids when they lived in Manhattan—they left the vehicle there and headed off by foot.

Veronica, always prepared, fitted Maggie and Jamie with the jackets she brought with her when she left for Long Island this morning. What an optimist, she thought, but it’s not like she had a choice—thinking any other way would’ve crushed her. Maggie’s coat was a wool, pink button-down. She normally refused to wear it, or the cute matching hat that came with it. But she understood there was no way she was getting in the Waldorf in a pair of pajamas, and put it on without a fight.

Jamie, Mr. GQ, was more prepared for high society. He proudly wore the tuxedo that his new pal Jim Kingston had provided for him. He opted for fashion over comfort, but she wasn’t taking no for an answer. The jacket was not optional.

They headed without a second look through the minefield of security and barricades for the two-mile journey from 15th Street up Park Avenue to the Waldorf. If anyone had a plan for what they were going to do when they got there, they’d yet to reveal it.

Their biggest weapon was Eddie’s badge that declared him to be the head of NYPD’s Kingston security task force. It worked like a charm all the way through the Waldorf’s Park Avenue entryway, which they entered under the hotel’s famed art deco grill.

Inside, it felt like the center of the universe. And in a way it was. Zach mentioned that he doubted it was a coincidence that the Kingston victory celebration would take place within blocks of some of the country’s best known financial, political, and religious symbols, including Rockefeller Center, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, and Times Square. What better place to launch a takeover of the universe, but from its core?

Now came the hard part. Their request to be cleared to go to Kingston’s suite was met with suspicious looks. When they offered to call the presidential nominee, those looks turned to action. Security began moving toward them like they were John Wilkes Booth scalping theater tickets.

As the guards closed in, Maggie calmly spoke up, “Mr. Chester, can I see your phone?”

Zach flashed her a curious look, but reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. The Waldorf staffer saw it as a possible weapon and shrieked. Security now came rushing towards them. Veronica knew when they checked the bag and found the gun and handcuffs that Eddie had left for Maggie, they’d be spending a long time in prison.

But Maggie remained undeterred as she punched in a phone number.

“Is this Jim Kingston?” she asked into the phone and awaited an answer.

Maggie listened for a moment, before replying, “This is Maggie Peterson. I’m down in the lobby being hassled by some of your security force. Can you call down and clear us to come up? We have a few things we need to talk about.”

They were now surrounded—guns pointed at them. “Get down … now!” yelled one. “Drop the bag,” shouted another.

They followed orders and hit the cold floor. The buzzing lobby went silent and all eyes shot toward them.

The silence was shattered by the ringing of a phone.

It was coming from the hotel staffer. He answered it, did a few a-hums and yes-sirs, before handing it to the lead security guard, who repeated the drill.

“On your feet,” the guard demanded, putting his gun away. The others followed his lead.

“What’s going on?” Zach asked.

“I’m going to take you up to Senator Kingston’s suite,” the guard stated, matter-of-fact. He was now on his best behavior.

As they rode the gold and glass elevator to the 35th Floor, Veronica looked to her daughter with astonishment. “You have Kingston’s cell number?”

Maggie smiled. “Actually he confiscated my phone at his house. So I dialed my own phone and he answered.”

Veronica couldn’t help but return a proud smile.