“And still the hotel only made a profit of two million while sitting on real estate worth forty million.”
“But there has to be a Baron in the center of New York. You couldn’t think of selling our most prestigious hotel.”
“Until it loses money.”
“But our reputation—”
“Your father was never sentimental about reputation when measured against profits.”
“So what are we doing about it?”
“I’m going to commission McKinsey and Company to carry out a detailed assessment of the whole Group. They’ll give us an interim report in three months and complete the study in one year if we still want it.”
“But they’re the top management consultants in New York. Using them can only add to our cost.”
“Yes, they’ll be expensive. But I wouldn’t be surprised if it saved us a considerable amount in the long run. We have to remember that modern hotels all around the world are serving different customers from those your father built the Barons for. I want to be sure we’re not missing something that’s staring us in the face.”
“But can’t our senior executives give us that sort of advice?”
“When McKinsey moved into Bloomingdale’s,” said Richard, “they recommended that the store should change the location of seventeen of its counters from their traditional positions. Simple, you might say, but the profits were up twenty-one percent the following year and none of the executive staff had considered any changes necessary. Perhaps we face the same problem without realizing it.”
“Hell, I feel so out of touch.”
“Don’t worry, Jessie darling, nothing is going to be acted on that doesn’t meet with your full approval.”
“And how is the bank surviving?”
“Ironically, Lester’s is making more money on loans and overdrafts than at any time since the Depression. My decision to move into gold when Carter won the election has paid off handsomely. If Carter is re-elected I’ll buy more gold. If Reagan captures the White House, I’ll sell the next day. But don’t you worry. As long as you keep earning your fifty-seven five as a congresswoman, I’ll sleep easy knowing we have something to fall back on in bad times…. Have you told Edward about Don Short and the twenty-four thousand?”
“Twenty-four thousand three hundred. No, I haven’t spoken to him in days, and when I do, all he wants to talk about is how to run a hotel group.”
“I’m inviting him to join Lester’s board at the annual meeting. So it could be the bank next.”
“He’ll soon be running the whole show,” said Florentyna.
“That’s exactly what I’m planning for when I become the First Gentleman.”
When Florentyna arrived back in Washington, she was surprised to find that there was no message awaiting her from Bill Pearson. His secretary told her he was in California campaigning, which reminded her how close the election was. Janet was quick to point out that the legislature was sleeping on its feet again, waiting for the new session, and that perhaps it might be wise for Florentyna to spend more time in Chicago.
On Thursday, Bill Pearson phoned from California to tell Florentyna that he had spoken with the ranking Republican and the chairman of the Defense Subcommittee and they both felt it would cause more trouble than it was worth to raise the issue before the election. He asked her not to declare the donation, because his investigation would be hampered.
Florentyna strongly disagreed with his advice and even considered raising the whole issue with the ranking committee members herself, but when she phoned Edward he counseled against such a move on the ground that the whip’s office undoubtedly knew more about bribery than she did and it might look as if she had been working behind their backs. Florentyna reluctantly agreed to wait until after the election.
Somehow Florentyna—with continual reminders from Janet—managed to push her voting record up to over eighty percent by the end of the session, but only at the cost of turning down every invitation outside Washington that appeared on her desk and she suspected there had been a whole lot more that Janet had not passed on to her. When Congress adjourned, Florentyna returned to Chicago to prepare for another election.
She was surprised to find, during the campaign, that she spent a considerable part of her time sitting in the Cook County Democratic headquarters on Randolph Street. Although Carter’s first two years had not lived up to the expectations of the American voters, it was well known that the local Republicans were finding it hard to convince anyone to run against Florentyna. To keep her occupied, her staff sent her off to speak on behalf of other Democratic candidates in the state as often as possible.
In the end, Stewart Lyle agreed to run again but only after he had made it clear to his committee that he was not going to stomp around the district night and day or waste any more of his money. The GOP was not pleased with Lyle when he said in a private conversation—forgetting that nothing was private during an election campaign—“There is only one difference between Kane and the late Mayor Daley: Kane is honest.”
The Ninth District of Illinois agreed with Stewart Lyle and sent Florentyna back to Congress with a slightly increased majority, but she noted the loss of fifteen of her colleagues from the House and three from the Senate. Among the casualties was Bill Pearson.
Florentyna called Bill at his home in California several times to commiserate, but he was always out. Each time she left a message on the answering machine, but he did not return her calls. She discussed the problem with Richard and Edward, who both advised her to see the Majority Leader immediately.
When Mark Chadwick heard the story he was horrified and said he would be in touch with Bill Pearson at once and speak to her later that day. Mark was as good as his word and phoned Florentyna to report something that chilled her: Bill Pearson had denied any knowledge of the $24,300 and was claiming that he had never discussed a bribe case with Florentyna. Pearson had reminded Chadwick that if Florentyna had received $24,300 from any source, she was bound by law to report it either as a campaign contribution or as income. No mention of the money had been made on her campaign forms and, under House rules, she was not entitled to receive an honorarium of over $750 from anyone. Florentyna explained to the Majority Leader that Bill Pearson had asked her not to declare the money. Mark assured Florentyna that he believed her but was not quite clear how she was going to prove that Pearson was lying. It was common knowledge, he added, that Pearson had been in financial trouble since his second divorce. Two alimonies when you’re out of work would flatten most good men, he pointed out.
Florentyna agreed to let Mark make a full investigation while she remained silent on the matter. Don Short rang during the week to congratulate her on her victory and to remind her that the contract with the Navy for the missile program was up for discussion in the subcommittee that Thursday. Florentyna bit her lip after Don Short’s next statement: “I’m glad you cashed the check. I’m sure the money came in useful at election time.”
Florentyna immediately asked the Majority Leader to postpone the vote on the missile program until he had completed his inquiry on Bill Pearson. Mark Chadwick explained that he couldn’t comply with her request because the allocated funds would go elsewhere if the decision was held up. Although Defense Secretary Brown didn’t care which company was awarded the contract, he had warned them that all hell would break loose if a decision was postponed any longer. Finally, Chadwick reminded Florentyna of her own speech about members who held up defense contracts. She didn’t waste any time arguing.
“Are you getting anywhere with your inquiries, Mark?”
“Yes. We know the check was cashed at the Riggs National Bank on Pennsylvania Avenue.”
“My bank, and my branch,” said Florentyna in disbelief.
“By a lady of about forty-five who wore dark glasses.”
“Is there any good news?” she asked.
“Yes,” replied Mark. “The manager considered the sum large enough to make a note of the b
ill numbers in case some query arose later. How about that for irony?” She tried to smile. “Florentyna, in my opinion, you have two choices. You can blast the entire thing open at Thursday’s meeting or you can keep quiet until I have the whole messy business sorted out. One thing you can’t do is talk publicly about Bill Pearson’s involvement until I get to the bottom of it.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“The party would probably prefer you to keep quiet, but I know what I would do if the decision were left to me.”
“Thank you, Mark.”
“No one’s going to love you for it. But that has never stopped you in the past.”
When Defense Subcommittee Chairman Thomas Lee gaveled the hearing to order, Florentyna had already been in her seat for several minutes making notes. The radar satellite contract was the sixth item on the agenda and she did not speak on the first five items. When she looked toward the press table and the seats occupied by the public she could not avoid the smiling Don Short.
“Item number six,” said the chairman, stifling a slight yawn—each subject on the agenda was taking much too long in his opinion. “We must discuss today the three companies that have bid on the Navy’s missile project. The Defense Department’s Office of Procurement will make the final decision, but they are still waiting our considered opinion. Who would like to open the discussion?”
Florentyna raised her hand.
“Congresswoman Kane.”
“I have no particular preference, Mr. Chairman, between Boeing and Grumman, but under no circumstances could I support the Aerospace Plan bid.” Don Short’s face turned ashen with disbelief.
“Can you tell the committee why you feel so strongly against Aerospace Plan, Mrs. Kane?”
“Certainly, Mr. Chairman. My reasons arise from a personal experience. Some weeks ago an employee of Aerospace Plan came to visit me in my offices in order to go over the reasons why his company should be awarded this contract. Later he attempted to bribe me with a check for twenty-four thousand three hundred dollars in exchange for my vote today. That man is now in this room and will no doubt have to answer to the courts for his actions later.”
When the chairman of the committee had finally brought the meeting back to order, Florentyna explained how the testimonial dinner had worked and she named Don Short as the man who had given her the money. She turned to look at him, but he had vanished. Florentyna continued her statement but avoided making any reference to Bill Pearson. She still considered that to be a party matter, but when she finished her story she couldn’t help noticing that two other members of the committee were as white as Don Short had been.
“In view of this serious allegation made by my colleague, I intend to delay any decision on this item until a full inquiry has been carried out,” Chairman Lee announced.
Florentyna thanked him and left for her office immediately. She walked down the corridor, surrounded by reporters, but made no reply to any of their insistent questions.
She talked to Richard on the phone that night and he warned her that the next few days were not going to be pleasant.
“Why, Richard? I’ve only told the truth.”
“I know. But now there are a group of people fighting for their lives on that committee and they only see you as the enemy, so you can forget the Marquis of Queensberry rules.”
When she read the papers the next morning, she found out exactly what Richard had meant.
“Congresswoman Kane Accuses Aerospace Plan of Bribery,” ran one headline, while another read, “Company Lobbyist Claims Member of Congress Took Money as Campaign Contribution.” Once Florentyna had seen that most of the papers were running roughly the same story, she jumped out of bed, dressed quickly, went without breakfast and drove straight to the Capitol. When she reached her office she studied all the papers in detail, and without exception they all wanted to know where the $24,300 had disappeared. “And so do I,” said Florentyna out loud. The headline in the Chicago Sun-Times was the most unfortunate: “Representative Kane Accuses Space Company of Bribery after Check Cashed.” True, but misleading.
Richard called to say that Edward was already on his way down from New York and not to talk to the press until she had spoken with him. She would not have been able to in any case, because the FBI sent two senior agents to interview her at ten o’clock that morning.
In the presence of Edward and the Majority Leader, Florentyna made a complete statement. The FBI men asked her not to inform the press of Bill Pearson’s involvement until they had completed their own investigation. Once again, she reluctantly agreed.
During the day some members of the House went out of their way to congratulate her. Others conspicuously avoided her.
In the lead story in the Chicago Tribune that afternoon the paper wanted to know where the $24,300 had gone. They said it was their unfortunate duty to remind the public that Congresswoman Kane’s father had been tried and found guilty of bribery of a public official in the Chicago courts in 1962. Florentyna could almost hear Ralph Brooks calling from the State’s Attorney’s office to let them have all the salient details.
Edward helped Florentyna to keep her temper, and Richard flew down from New York every night to be with her. Three days and three nights passed while the papers kept the story running and Ralph Brooks made a statement from the State’s Attorney’s office saying: “Much as I admire Mrs. Kane and believe in her innocence, I feel it might be wise in the circumstances for her to step down from Congress until the FBI investigation is completed.” It made Florentyna even more determined to stay put, especially when Mark Chadwick phoned to tell her not to give up. It could only be a matter of time before the guilty man was brought to justice.
On the fourth day with no more news from the FBI, Florentyna was at her lowest point when a reporter from the Washington Post phoned.
“Mrs. Kane, may I ask how you feel about Congressman Buchanan’s statement on Aerogate?”
“Has he turned against me as well?” she asked quietly.
“Hardly,” said the voice from the other end of the line. “I’ll read what he said. I quote: ‘I have known Representative Kane for nearly five years as a bitter adversary and she is many things that drive me to despair, but as we say in Tennessee, you’ll have to swim to the end of the river to find anyone more honest. If Mrs. Kane is not to be trusted, then I do not know one honest person in either chamber of Congress.”
Florentyna phoned Bob Buchanan a few minutes later.
“Now don’t you go thinking I’m getting soft in my old age,” he barked. “You put a foot wrong in that chamber and I’ll cut it off.” Florentyna laughed for the first time in days.
It was a cold December wind that whistled across the east front of the Capitol as Florentyna walked back alone to the Longworth Building after the last vote that day. The newsboy on the corner was shouting out the evening headlines. She couldn’t catch what he was saying—something, someone, arrested. She hurried toward the boy, fumbling in her pocket for a coin, but all she could find was a twenty-dollar bill.
“I can’t change that,” the boy said.
“Don’t bother,” said Florentyna as she grabbed the paper and read the lead story first quickly and then slowly. “Former Congressman Bill Pearson,” she read aloud as if she wanted to be sure the newsboy could hear, “has been arrested by the FBI in Fresno, California, in connection with the Aerogate scandal. Over seventeen thousand dollars in cash was found hidden in the rear fender of his new Ford. He was taken to the nearest police station, questioned and later charged with grand larceny and three other misdemeanors. The young woman who was with him at the time was also charged, as an accomplice.”
Florentyna leaped up and down in the snow as the newsboy quickly pocketed the twenty dollars and ran to sell his papers on another corner. He had always been warned about those Hill types.
“My congratulations on the news, Mrs. Kane.” The maitre d’hotel of the Jockey Club was the first of several people to comme
nt that evening. Richard had flown down from New York to take Florentyna to a celebration dinner. On her way into the oak-paneled room, other politicians and members of Washington society came over to say how pleased they were that the truth was at last out. Florentyna smiled at each one of them, a Washington smile that she had learned to develop after nearly five years in politics.
The next day the Chicago Tribune and the Sun-Times came out with glowing tributes to their representative’s ability to stay calm in a crisis. Florentyna gave a wry smile, determined to back her own judgment in the future. Any comment from Ralph Brooks’s office was conspicuously absent. Edward sent a large bunch of freesias, and William sent a telegram from Harvard: “SEE YOU TONIGHT IF YOU’RE NOT THE WOMAN IN FRESNO STILL BEING HELD FOR FURTHER QUESTIONING.” Annabel arrived home seemingly unaware of her mother’s recent problems to announce she had been accepted at Radcliffe. Her headmistress at the Madeira School later confided to Florentyna that her daughter’s acceptance had turned out to be a very close thing, although it couldn’t have hurt that Mr. Kane had been at Harvard and that she herself was a Radcliffe graduate. Florentyna was surprised that her reputation was such that she could influence her daughter’s future without lifting a finger and confessed to Richard later what a relief it was that Annabel’s life was more settled.
Richard asked his daughter in what subject she planned to major.
“Psychology and social relations,” Annabel replied without hesitation.
“Psychology and social relations are not real subjects but merely an excuse to talk about yourself for three years,” Richard declared.
William, now a sophomore at Harvard, nodded in sage agreement with his father and later asked the old man if he could up his allowance to five hundred dollars a term.
When an amendment to the health bill, prohibiting abortions after six weeks, came up on the calendar, Florentyna spoke for the first time since the Aerogate scandal. As she rose from her place, she was greeted with friendly smiles and a ripple of applause from both sides of the aisle. Florentyna made a powerful plea for the life of the mother before the unborn child, reminding Congress that there were only eighteen other members who could even experience pregnancy. Bob Buchanan rose from his place and referred to the distinguished lady from Chicago as the worst sort of simpleton who would be claiming next that you could not discuss a future space program unless you had circled the moon, and he pointed out there was only one member in either house who had managed that.