Cam found the whole thing deeply gratifying. Every time he read another tabloid diatribe against her, he remembered how she had called his love ridiculous.

But he was not through with her yet.

When the backlash was at its height, he called Melton Faulkner, a pro-Nixon businessman who was on the board of one of the television networks. He got the switchboard to dial the call, so that Faulkner’s secretary would say to him: “The White House is on the line!”

When he reached Faulkner he gave his name and said: “The president has asked me to call you, sir, about a special the network is planning on Jane Addams.”

Jane Addams, who died in 1935, had been a progressive campaigner, suffragette, and winner of the Nobel Peace Prize.

“That’s right,” said Faulkner. “Is the president a fan of hers?”

The hell he is, Cam thought; Jane Addams was just the kind of woolly-minded liberal he hated. “Yes, he is,” Cam said. “But The Hollywood Reporter says you’re thinking of casting Evie Williams as Jane.”

“That’s right.”

“You probably saw the recent news about Evie Williams and the way she let herself be exploited for propaganda by America’s enemies.”

“Sure, I read that story.”

“Are you sure this anti-American British actress with socialist views is the right person to play an American hero?”

“As a board member, I don’t have any say in casting . . .”

“The president has no power to take any action about this, heaven forbid, but he thought you might be interested to hear his opinion.”

“I most certainly am.”

“Good to talk to you, Mr. Faulkner.” Cam hung up.

He had heard people say that revenge is sweet. But no one had told him how sweet.

• • •

Dave and Walli sat in the recording studio on high stools, holding guitars. They had a song called “Back Together Again.” It was in two parts, the different parts in different keys, and they needed a hinge chord for the transition. They sang the song over and over, trying different things.

Dave was happy. They still had it. Walli was an original, coming up with melodies and harmonic progressions that no one else used. They bounced ideas off one another and the result was better than anything either did alone. They were going to make a triumphant comeback.

Beep had not changed, but Walli had. He was gaunt. His high cheekbones and almond eyes were accentuated by his thinness, and he looked vampirishly handsome.

Buzz and Lew sat nearby, smoking, listening, waiting. They were patient. As soon as Dave and Walli had the song figured out, Buzz and Lew would move to their instruments and work out the drum and bass parts.

It was ten in the evening, and they had been working for three hours. They would keep going until three or four in the morning, then sleep until midday. Those were rock-and-roll hours.

This was their third day in the studio. They had spent the first jamming, playing old favorites, enjoying getting used to one another again. Walli had played wonderful melodic guitar lines. Unfortunately, on the second day Walli had suffered a stomach upset and had retired early. So this was their first day of serious work.