Free Dark Ambition by Allan Topol Page A

statement?"
    Slater was annoyed. Dealing with Winthrop's murder wasn't the purview of the secretary of defense. Cunningham was using his friendship with the President to gain a foothold on Slater's turf. "I haven't called yet. I figured we'd call him now."
    The President glanced at his watch, then picked up the phone and told his secretary, "Get me Attorney General Hawthorne. Try the Okura Hotel in Tokyo."
    A few minutes later, Ches Hawthorne was on the speakerphone. "Jim wants me to go on TV tonight to talk about Robert's death," Brewster said. "What do you think, Ches?"
    It was the middle of the night in Tokyo. The call had awakened Hawthorne, who had had too much sake at dinner, out of a sound sleep. "What would you say?"
    Slater repeated his summary of the proposed television address. There was a long silence while Hawthorne tried to think it through. "It's probably a good idea," he finally said, "How soon can I see a copy of the statement?"
    "I'll fax it to you within the hour."
    "I think I should come home tomorrow," Hawthorne said, "and personally take charge of the Winthrop investigation."
    Slater decided he'd better jump in fast. He didn't want Hawthorne getting a lot of publicity and looking like a hero when there was an early arrest. "That's a terrible idea," he replied. "You're attending an international conference devoted to crime control and law enforcement. We'll look like idiots if you have to rush home because of a murder. Besides, Murtaugh has his top people involved. No offense, Ches, but what would you add being here that you can't contribute by phone and e-mail?"
    "There may be legal decisions to be made."
    Cunningham was amused by the infighting between Slater and Hawthorne. Pleased that the gardener's arrest was imminent, Cunningham didn't care who took credit for it.
    "I got Al Hennessey to give us the best man in his office," Slater said.
    "What do you think, Philip?" Hawthorne asked the President.
    "It's your call, Ches, but I think Jim makes some good points."
    "All right, I'm convinced. I'll have Sarah Van Buren, the head of the criminal division at Justice, keep me informed."
    When they hung up the phone, Cunningham thought about telling the President about his meeting with the Chinese ambassador that morning, but decided against it. In Brewster's emotional state, his knee-jerk reaction would be to blow up at the Chinese and take some action against them. Maybe even increase Winthrop's proposed arms package for Taiwan. It would be a poor decision, because Cunningham was convinced that, if pushed, Beijing would attack Taiwan. No, he had to gamble that Winthrop hadn't told Brewster about the meeting at Winthrop's house on November first and the London video.
    * * *
    Free! Free at last! Ann thought as she leaned back in the warm bubble bath. Finally, the frenzied activity of the last twenty-four hours was over, and the house was empty. They all meant well, so genuine in their concern for the grieving widow. God, if they only knew how she felt.
    And what about Matt and Gerry? How did they feel about their father's death? Neither of the children had been close with Robert. When they were young, she had tried to be both mother and father—making up for Robert's indifference that frequently descended into unreasonable commands and destructive criticism. The petty tyrant making arbitrary demands on his subjects. Of course, it was inevitable that neither of them would measure up to his standards, and so Matt had a job as the editor of a small literary magazine in San Francisco, about as far as he could go physically and spiritually to escape from his father without leaving the continental United States. And Gerry had set aside her Ph.D. in history to teach fourth grade in an inner-city school. Both drifted away, coming home as little as possible because of Robert, while blaming her for not giving them more support in battles with their father. It left her with a gaping hole that she had tried to fill