‘I’ve been considering that,’ said Senator Jones. ‘I think I might send Della over to Wichita to have a quiet word with him. Tell him how important it is for scientists not to scuttle around panicking everybody. I was going over to Fall River at the week-end in any case – I can send her on ahead.’

‘And Hardesty? What about him? If he doesn’t get any response from you, he’s likely to blow the whistle.’

‘Hardesty is a professional pain in the ass,’ breathed the senator. ‘But I still want to have him as my Kansas Farmer figurehead. He’ll be good copy. The young, dedicated, second-generation wheat farmer. And if he’s been as hard hit by this blight as he says he has, he’s going to be glad of a few extra dollars. Maybe I’ll get Della to talk to him, too. She’s good at sizing people up.’

Peter was tempted to answer, ‘You can say that again, Senator,’ but he held his tongue. ‘Do you want me to call him back?’ he asked Shearson.

‘Yes, do that. Do that right away. I made a mistake once, years ago, in some political scandal you won’t even remember. I took care of all the big people but I forgot about the little people. And if you’re not careful, it’s the little people who can put you under.’

Peter wrote down two more fines of notes, and then he said, ‘Okay, Senator. I’m sorry I disturbed you. Maybe we can meet up later and I’ll put you in the picture on the food supplies.’

‘Good,’ said Shearson. ‘And for Christ’s sake keep this as quiet as you can. Until those donations have cleared the bank, we’re still running on the skyline. You understand me?’

Peter glanced at the anti-bug light beside his telephone. ‘Yes, Senator,’ he said, crisply.

Peter put down the phone, and as he did so, Karen FortunofF put her phone down, too. Within a few seconds, there was a buzz from Peter’s office, and a fight flashed on her handset.

‘Yes, Mr Kaiser?’

‘Ah, Karen. Get me my mother on the phone, will you?’

‘Now, Mr Kaiser?’

‘Now, Karen. That’s if you don’t mind.’

Karen dialled the Wellington Hotel, and waited while the dialling-tone warbled. Then she heard Peter’s mother say, ‘Mrs Kaiser’s suite. Who’s calling?’

‘It’s your son for you, Mrs Kaiser. Hold on, please.’

She put the call through to Peter’s desk, but again she clamped her hand over the mouthpiece and listened in.

‘Mother?’ she heard Peter asking.

‘What’s the matter, dear? I have Mrs Kroger here for tea.’

‘Mother, this is very important. I want you to listen, and I want you to do exactly as I tell you.’

‘Peter, dear, what on earth’s the matter? You sound quite peculiar.’