“National politics.”

“Is he running for President?”

“No, but somebody is going to run against Kate Lee, and I think Ed knows who and why, or at least he knows enough about the candidate to worry that man and his friends.”

“And who would that be?” Dino asked.

“A gentleman called Knott.”

“Not what?”

“Not not—Knott, with a k and two t’s. Nelson Knott.”

Dino shook his head. “This is all too fantastic for me.”

“It’s not as fantastic as you think. The man has already formed a party, called the Independent Patriot Party, and he’s got a couple of dozen people to put up for Senate and House seats. He wants the whole ball of wax.”

“This is making me tired,” Dino said. “I want to go home.” He raised a finger. “Check?”

33

CHRISTIAN ST. CLAIR WATCHED the chopper drift in astern of the yacht, which was moving along at ten knots, lowering the ground speed of the chopper, which set down lightly on the afterdeck roof. The yacht’s captain waved St. Clair up to the top deck and walked him to the chopper. They both ducked their heads instinctively, even though they had seven feet of clearance, eight feet for Christian.

St. Clair climbed into the rear seat of the copter, set his briefcase on the seat beside him, and put on his seat belt and headset. “Go,” he said into the attached microphone, and the machine rose and peeled away from the yacht, turning to the southwest toward New York.

As they made their way toward the city, Christian reflected on what an important day this was for him. He owned everything a man could want—city houses, country houses, aircraft, seacraft, many cars, and enough art to fill a small museum. There was something else he wanted, though, something that perhaps no one had ever owned: a President of the United States.

Having his own President would make him a kind of benevolent dictator, in his mind. Instead of spending millions a year on lobbyists who conducted subversive campaigns for the legislation he needed, he would simply make a phone call to his President, and his will would be done. Of course, it would still be necessary to buy congressmen and senators, but he had enough of them already to carry any vote, as long as they and the President were of the same party.

He had chosen Nelson Knott carefully and groomed him even more so. Under his tutelage, Nelson had become a man of the people, when he needed to be, and at the drop of a hat. He was also intelligent and well educated, so he mingled nicely with the elite, too. As much at home at a chamber music concert as at the Grand Ole Opry, on a golf course or a NASCAR track, he was ideally suited to command broad appeal, as long as he had Christian’s full financial backing.