Chapter sixteen
"Of course, Mr. Kaspar is deeply troubled by these latest developments. He feels particularly sorry for the children, if the allegations against T. Rex Calhoun are true. But we mustn't lose sight of the fact that, at the moment, they remain just that—allegations." Mike Princippi stifled an urge to grin. The early-morning press conference had brought back in a flood his old political feelings. It felt great to be in the limelight again.
Hands were raised in the sea of reporters at the National Press Building in Washington. Princippi pointed randomly at one.
"Any comment on T. Rex Calhoun's reasons for dropping out of the race for Senate?" the reporter asked.
' 'I know only what you ladies and gentlemen of the press have told me," Princippi lied.
Of course he knew why Calhoun had dropped out. It was a foregone conclusion—once Mark Kaspar had instructed Princippi to leak the molestation story to the Prince's old friends at the New Democracy magazine. Kaspar had supplied the names of the young victims—all now of legal age and more than willing to tell their stories to a press that had ignored them until
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now. Kaspar had also persuaded Calhoun's former psychiatrist to speak to the magazine about the candidate's most private sessions. He didn't ask how Kaspar had convinced the doctor to go public with his story, but he assumed it had something to do with that strange temple at Ranch Ragnarok.
"How did Mr. Kaspar find out about Mr. Calhoun's record?" a reporter inquired.
"Mr. Kaspar has a great many friends. He also has an uncanny ability to size up a person the moment he meets him. Truthfully it's possible that he surmised everything from seeing the man on television, then confirmed his suspicions through his vast network of business and political allies. His ability to get to the heart of things is really quite astounding."
Some in the press scoffed at that observation.
"Any further comments on the State Department confirmation vote today?"
"Just that Mr. Kaspar feels the President's nominee will be defeated," Princippi remarked.
"He has the votes, Mr. Princippi," the congressional reporter from BCN News said blandly.
"Mr. Kaspar feels the President's nominee will be defeated," Princippi repeated.
"Is it possible Mr. Kaspar is mistaken?"
"I have not yet known him to be wrong about anything," Princippi said flatly.
Laughter rippled out at one end of the briefing room, making Princippi glower. Someone muttered that Kaspar's first mistake had been choosing the former governor as a political ally.
"Are there any further questions?" Princippi asked haughtily.
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' 'Will Mr. Kaspar comment on the disappearance of Senator Cole's daughter?" asked the CNN reporter.
The snickering in the room subsided.
Princippi's eyes gleamed craftily as he absorbed this unexpected information.
Without missing a beat, he answered, "Our hearts go out to the Cole family at this troubling time. That's all for now, gentlemen."
As he excused himself from the room, Michael ' 'the Prince" Princippi was deeply troubled by this worrisome news concerning Senator Cole's daughter. If the story broke big, the little bitch could knock his first press conference in ten years off the front pages.
Harold Smith scanned the kidnapping report of Lori Cole with silent concern.
The CURE computers automatically pulled the story off the UPI wire, triggered by the Thermopolis and Truth Church connections.
The Associated Press had been quick to pick up the report and had disseminated a rewritten version of the UPI story to its subscribers. It made all the morning news shows.
With a fresh angle on the Thermopolis kidnappings, it would not be long before the press descended like starving vultures on the sleepy Wyoming town.
Alarming, as well, was the fact that the mysterious player in all of this, Mark Kaspar, had left Washington unexpectedly the previous evening. Smith discovered that Kaspar had taken a late flight from Washington not long before Remo had departed for Wyoming.
On the small black-and-white television in his Fol-croft office, Smith channel-surfed between the
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morning shows, looking for anything, any nuggets concerning Thermopolis or Mark Kaspar, and praying that Remo didn't show up in the background of any on-the-scene reports.
Two major networks carried stories about Kaspar's appearance on television the previous evening. One anchorman described Kaspar as both "charismatic and enigmatic" and alluded to the fact that the "man from Wyoming" was a secret adviser to a great many Washington politicos. He went on to quote a Times/ Mirror poll that had been conducted among "Barry Duke Live" viewers the previous evening that showed seventy-two percent of respondents favored a Kaspar run for public office—with a margin of error of plus or minus two percent.
Smith was amazed that people were willing to go on record for or against someone who had been in the national spotlight for barely one hour. It seemed that in the new electronic frontier of politics, Americans were willing to commit themselves to any candidate or issue on the strength of hardly any information at all.
When the news segment ended, the newsman joked with the morning show's weatherman and perky co-anchor about Kaspar's prediction of failure for the President's State Department nominee that morning. He opined Kaspar had about as much of a chance of being correct as the weatherman had of growing hair. The weatherman, an overweight, middle-aged man swathed in a flaming red sarong and high heels, burst into tears.
As the weatherman blubbered and pulled the giant fruit-garnished hat from atop his bald pate, the fire-
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engine red phone on Smith's desk began to ring. Smith switched the television off, shaking his head slowly. The older he got, the less the CURE director found he understood modern American culture.
Smith picked up the hot line to the White House.
"Yes, Mr. President."
"What in God's name is going on out in Wyoming, Smith?" the President demanded, his hoarse voice angry-Smith sat up rigidly in his cracked leather chair. "I beg your pardon, sir?'' he asked.
"Calhoun dropped out of the race," the President began. "That means an even weaker opposition candidate going up against Cole in the fall. I have no complaints there. I'm running roughshod over Congress just as it is. But now I'm hearing Cole might bail out over this kidnapping thing. I want you and your people to get the hell involved in this thing. This smells of someone tampering with a senatorial campaign. We can't have that, unless it's my party doing the tampering."
Smith considered. Did he dare tell the President that CURE was already involved, at least on the periphery of what was happening in Wyoming? After a moment's consideration, during which he kept the leader of the free world on hold like some telephone salesman, Smith decided that it would be best for all concerned if the President was kept in the dark.
He cleared his throat before speaking.
"Mr. President, may I remind you that it is against the organization's charter to involve itself in domestic politics?"
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"I know that, Smith. But, dammit, this crosses party
lines."