“You’re lucky you caught me in a good mood. I have your new assignment. When we head out to Chicago tomorrow, you’ll be there with me. Always in the room next door. So we can dispatch you on one important task after another. If I have to address the caucus of women state legislators, you write the remarks. If the mayor is upset because he gets five minutes not six-and-a-half from the podium, you hold his hand, and tell him how much we fucking love him … . You know, it’s a good thing you convinced Hanover to cut the convention back a day. Makes it harder for outside momentum to build.”

Not here, not now.

“Sure,” Addis said.

That old chestnut: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. You’ve watched too many movies.

“Let me ask you something,” Addis said.

“Shoot.”

“Somebody in the White House keeps records of all the outgoing phone calls of White House personnel,” Addis said. “Right?”

“I believe so.”

“And who has access to these records?”

“I’m not sure I’m familiar with the entire list. Why?”

Because I fucking want to know how a third-rate scumbag reporter discovered I was making calls to Louisiana.

“Got curious when I was reading the memo on personal phone calls. I mean, if someone wanted to get serious about it, they could go over the individual records.”

“That’s fascinating, Nick. Really. We’ll detail you to administrative services after the convention.”

Addis could discern no clues in Kelly’s expression.

“There’s an eight o’clock meeting later on logistics. There’s an eight-thirty tomorrow morning on scheduling. Chicago staff will be departing in the evening tomorrow. The President’s arrival in Chicago is still being planned. He’s going to make one or two stops before he gets there. I’ll let you know when the details are finalized.”

“Thank you.”

“He’ll get there on the Second. Give an opening address that night. A remembrance of Bob. Short, no politics.”

Yeah, right.

“And spend the Third and the Fourth in Chicago.”

Promising, promising.

“Okay,” Kelly went on, “be here at eight. And have a draft of remarks he might make tomorrow at the stops on his way to Chicago.”

A yank on the leash, Addis thought.

“Yes,” he said.

“You’re so good at that grand-moment stuff.”

Another yank.

The corners of Kelly’s mouth turned slightly upward. He had an oily smile, Addis thought.

“Then we’re done here,” Kelly said and picked up the phone.

“Karen,” he said into the receiver, “who’s that pain-in-the-ass in San Francisco, head of the northern state caucus, who said she’d rather vote for Pratt than us? Get me her number. But first call Frank in Sacramento and ask what might make her wheels spin.”