The Prodigal Daughter (46 page)

“Doesn’t miss a
trick, does he?” commented Florentyna. “I bet his voting record would always be
over eighty percent.
And the third thing?”

“You have a
meeting with Don Short at ten A.M.”

“Don Short?”

“He’s a director
of Aerospace Plan and Research, Inc.,” said Janet. “You agreed to see him
because his company has a contract with the government to build radar stations for
tracking enemy missiles. They’re now bidding for the new navy contract to put
their equipment into American warships.”

“Now I
remember,” said Florentyna. “Somebody produced an excellent paper on the
subject. Dig it out for me, will you?”

Janet passed over
a brown manila file. “I think you’ll find everything in there.”

Florentyna
smiled and flicked quickly through the papers. “Ah, yes, it all comes back. I
shall have one or two pointed questions for Mr. Short.”

For the next
hour, Florentyna dictated letters before reading through the briefing file. She
found time to jot down several questions before Don Short arrived. Janet
accompanied him into Florentyna’s office as ten o’clock struck.

“Congresswoman,
this is a great honor,” said Don Short, thrusting out his hand. “We at
Aerospace Plan look upon you as one of the last bastions of hope for the free
world.”

It was very rare
for Florentyna to dislike someone on first sight, but it was clear that Don
Short was going to fall firmly into that category.

Around five feet
seven and twenty pounds overweight, he was a man in his early fifties and
nearly bald except for a few strands of black hair which had been carefully
combed over the dome of his head. He wore a checked suit and carried a brown
leather Gucci briefcase. Before Florentyna had acquired her present hawkish
reputation she had never been visited by the Don Shorts of the world since no
one thought it worthwhile to lobby her. However, since she had been on the
Defense Subcommittee Florentyna had received endless invitations to dinners and
travel-free junkets, and had even been sent gifts ranging from bronze model F-
I 5s to manganese nodules encascd in
lucite
.

Florentyna had
accepted only those invitations that were relevant to
th(
~
issues she was working on at the time, and with the exception of a model of the
Concorde she returned every gift she had been sent with a polite note. She kept
the Concorde on her desk to remind everyone that she believed in excellence
whichever country was responsible. She had been told that Margaret Thatcher had
a replica of Apollo I I on her desk in the House of Commons and she assumed it
was there for the same ru~ason.

Janet left the
two of them alone and Florentyna ushered Don Short into a (omfortable chair. He
crossed his legs, giving Florentyna a glimpse of haifless skin where his
trousers failed to meet his socks.

“A nice office
you have here. Are those your children?” he asked, jabbing a pudgy finger at
the photos on Florentyna’s desk.

“Yes,” said
Florentyna.

“Such
gooil-looking kids-take after their mother.”
He laughed
nervously.

I think you
wanted to talk to me about the XR-108, Mr. Short?”

“That’s
right, but call
me Don. We believe it’s the one piece of equipment the U.S. Navy cannot afford
to be without. The XR-108 can track and pinpoint an enemy missile at a distance
of over ten thousand miles.

Once
the XR-108 is installed on every American carrier.
the
Russians will never dare attack America, because America
will always be sailing the high seas.
guarding
her
people while they sleep.” Mr. Short stopped almost as if he were expecting
applause. “What is more, my company’s equipment can photograph every missile
site in Russia,” he continued, “and beam the picture straight onto a television
screen in the White House Situation Room. The Russians can’t even go to the
john without us taking a photo of them.”
Mr. Short ial.lghed
again.

I have studied
the capabilities of the XR- 108 in depth, Mr. Short, and I wonder why Boeing
claims it can produce essentially the same piece of equipment at only
seventy-two percent of your price.”

“Out equipment
is far more sophisticated, Mrs. Kane, and we have a proven record in the field,
having already supplied the U.S. Army.”

“Your company
did not complete the tracking stations for the Army by the date specified in
your contract and handed us a cost overrun of seventeen percent on the original
estimate or to be more precise, twenty-three million dollars.” Florentyna had
not once looked at her notes.

Don Short
started to lick his lips. “Well, I’m afraid inflation has taken iti toll on
everyone, not least of all the aerospace industry. Perhaps if you could spare a
little time to meet our board members, the problem would become clearer to you.
We might even arrange a dinner.”

“I rarely attend
dinners, Mr. Short. I have long believed that the only person who makes any
profit over dinner is the maitre d’.”

Don Short
laughed again. “No, no, I meant a testimonial dinner in your honor. We would
invite, say, five hundred people at fifty dollars a head, which you could add
to your campaign fund, or to whatever you need the cash for,” he added, almost
in a whisper.

Florentyna was
about to throw the man out when her secretary arrived with some coffee. By the
time Louise left, Florentyna had controlled her temper and made a decision.

“How does that
work, Mr. Short?”

“Well,
ray company
likes to give a helping hand to its friends. We
understand some of your bills for re-election can be pretty steep, so we hold a
dinner to raise a little cash and if all the guests don’t turn up but still
send their fifty dollarswell, who’s to know?”

“As
you say, Mr. Short, who’s to know?”

“Shall I iet
that up then?”

“Why don’t you,
Mr. Short.”

“I knew we could
work together.”

Florentyna just managed
a tight-lipped smile as Don Short offered a limp hand before Janet showed him
out, “I’ll be in touch, Florentyna,” he said, turning back.

“Thank you.”

As soon as the
door closed, the voting bells started to ring. Florentyna glanced up at the
clock on which tiny white bulbs were flashing to-show that she still had five
minutes to reach the chamber. “Well, there’s one I can pick up,” she said, and
left to run to the elevator reserved for members of Congress. When she had
reached the basement she jumped on the subway that went between Longworth and
the Capitol and took a seat next to Bob Buchanan.

“How are you
going to vote?” he asked.

The Present:
1968-1982 285

“Good heavens,”
said Florentyna, “I don’t even know what we’re voting for or against.”

Her thoughts
were still focused on Don Short and what she was going to do about his dinner,
“You’re okay this time. It’s lifting the retirement age cap from sixty-five to
seventy, and on that one I’m sure we can both vote the same way.”

“It’s only a
plot to keep old men like you in Congress and see that I neNer get to chair any
committees .

“Wait until
you’re sixty-five, Florentyna. Then you might feel differeritty.”

The subway
reached the basement of the Capitol and the two representatives took the
elevator up to the chamber together. It pleased Florentyna that this diehard
Republican now looked upon her as a full-fledged member of the club. When they
reached the chamber they rested on the brass rail at the back, waiting for
their names to be called.

“I never enjoy
standing on your side of the chamber,” he said. “After all these years, it
still feels strange.”

“Some of us are
quite human, you know, and I’ll let you in on a secret: my husband voted for
Jerry Ford.”

“Wise man, your
husband,”
chuckled
Buchanan.

“Perhaps your
wife voted for Jimmy Carter?”

The old man
suddenly looked sad. “She died last year,” he said quietly.

“I am sorry,”
said Florentyna. “I had no idea.”

“No,
no, my dear.
I realized that, but rejoice in your family because they are not always with you,
and the one thing I’ve di-,covered i~, that this place can only he a poor
substitute for a real family, whatever you imagine you achieve.... They’ve
started calling the B’s, so I’ll leave you to your thoughts. I’ll find standing
on this side of the aisle more pleasant in the future.”

Florentyna
smiled and reflected on how their mutual respect had been conceived in mutual
mistrust. She was thankful that the party difterences so crudely displayed on
election platforms disappeared in the privacy of everyday work. A few moments
later the K’s were called and once she had punched her card into the voting
pocket she went back to her own office and phoned Bill Pearson, the majority
whip, to ask for an immediate interview.

“Must it 6e this
minute?”

“This minute, Bill.”

“I suppose you
want me to put you on the Foreign Affairs Committee.”

“No, it’s far
more serious than that.”

“Then you had
better come around right away.”

Bill Pearson
puffed away at his pipe as he listened to Florentyna recount what had happened
in her office that morning. Then he said, “We know a lot of this sort of thing
goes on, but we’re rarely able to prove it. Your Mr. Short seems to have
provided an ideal chance to catch someone with their radar scanner in the pie.
Go through with the whole charade, Florentyna, and keep me briefed. The moment
they hand over any money we’ll jump on Aerospace Plan like a ton of bricks, and
if in the end we can’t prove anything, at least the exercise might make other
members of Congress think twice before getting themselves involved in these
sorts of shenanigans.”

Over the weekend
Florentyna told Richard about Don Short, but he showed no surprise. “The
problem’s a simple one. Some congressmen have only their salaries to live on,
so the temptation to pick up cash must sometimes be overwhelming, especially if
they are fighting for a seat they could lose and have no assured job to fall
back on.”

“If that’s the
case, why did Short bother with me?”

“That’s also
easy to explai
‘ n
. I receive half a dozen personal
approaches ;A
year at the bank. The
sort
of people who offer bribes imagine no one can resist the chance to make a quick
buck without Uncle Sam finding out, because that’s the way they would react
themselves. You would be surprised how many millionaires would sell their
mothers for ten thousand dollars in cash.”

Don Short phoned
during the week and confirmed that a testimonial dinner had been arranged in
Florentyna’s honor at the Mayflower Hotel. He expected about five hundred
people to be present. Florentyna thanked him, then buzzed Louise on the
intercom and asked her to write the date in the appointment book.

Because of the
pressure Florentyna was under with congressional business and out-of-state
trips over the next few weeks, she nearly missed Don Short’s testimonial dinner
altogether. She was on the floor of the House supporting a colleague’s
amendment to a small businesses bill when Janet hurried into the chamber.

“Have you
forgotten the Aerospace Plan dinner?”

“No, but it’s
not for a week,” said Florentyna.

The Present:
1968-1982 287

“If you check
your card you’ll find
it’s
tonight and you’re due
there in twenty minutes,” said Janet. “And don’t forget t1wre are five hundred
people waiting for you.”

Florentyna
apologized to her colleague and quickly left the chamber and ran to the
Longwot1h garage. She drove out into the Washington night well above the speed
limit. She turned off Connecticut Avenue at De Sales Street and left her car in
a lot before walking through the side entrance of the Mayflower. She was a few
minutes late, her thoughts far from collected, and arrived to find Don Short,
dressed in a tightfitting dinner jacket, standing in the lobby waiting to gveet
her. Florentyna suddenly realized that she had not had time to change and hoped
that the dress she was wcaring did not look too casual.

“We’ve taken a
private room,” he said as he led her toward the elevator.

“I didn’t
realize the Mayflower had a banquet room that could seat tive hundred,” she
said as the elevator doors closed.

Don Short laughed.
“That’s a good one,” he said, and led his guest into a room that-had it been
packed-would have held twenty people. He introduced her to everyone present,
which to4, only a tew mon-wnts: there were only fourteen guests.

Over dirmer
Florentyna listened to Don Short’s off-color stories and tales of Aerospace
Plan’s triumphs. She wasn’t sure that she could get through the whole evening
without exploding. At the end of the dinner Don rose from his seat, tapped a
spoon on his empty glass and made a fulsome speech about his close friend
Florentyna Kane. The applause when he sat down was as loud as one could hope
for from fourteen people. Florentyna made a short reply of thanks and managed
to escape a few minutes after eleven, at least grateful that the Mayflower had
provided an excellent rneal.