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Frank DeVoe poured himself a second cup of coffee from the room-service pot. He dumped in some nondairy powder and a packet of Sweet 'n Low, then stirred the contents with his finger, not appearing to mind the heat. |
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''What do you mean, she won't sell? I thought it was all settled." |
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"She called this morning and said they had to put it off." Claire Manning sat beside her husband, Julius Wick, in their suite in the Hay Adams across from Lafayette Park, overlooking the White House. Diagonally across the street was the Old Senate Building, where in two days Julius, under his presidential appointment, would set up his commission of biotechnology. |
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"What do you mean, put it off? There's no putting off. She holding out for more money?" |
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"No, it's something about her son," Claire said. "She claims he's got a medical condition." |
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DeVoe's eyes went flat. "Such as what?" |
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"I don't know. She didn't specify, nor would I expect her to. He looked like a normal, healthy kid." |
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DeVoe nodded and downed half his coffee. "I don't like it," he said. "If he's got a problem, people are going to want to know why." |
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"Aren't you being a little paranoid, Frank?" Julius asked. |
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"Probably, but that's what I'm paid for." |
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That was also the reason they were meeting in Julius's hotel room and not in Frank DeVoe's own office. DeVoe served as special counsel to the White House. For nine years before that appointment, he worked in the legal office of the Department of Defense. On the wall behind his desk hung a commendation for his DOD service. On the |
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