Jake didn’t see Glynis at all for the rest of the month. As Labor Day approached he thought about inviting her to the big rally that Amy was planning for Tomlinson. He told himself he wasn’t afraid of Younger, and if he wanted to invite Glynis to the rally, she could always bring Tim along if she chose to.

He hoped she wouldn’t choose to.

But somehow or other he kept delaying his call to her. She’s not interested in me, Jake told himself. And after that fiasco with the FBI she doesn’t even want to talk to me, most likely.

Tomlinson’s poll numbers hovered five or six points behind Leeds’s. In the words of the local news media, “Senator Leeds has a slim but comfortable margin over the challenger.” Not a hint that Leeds was tied to organized crime, to drugs and gambling and murder.

The MHD issue dwindled to a minor affair. Tomlinson’s support from the mining industry and the environmentalists couldn’t overcome Leeds’s backing by organized labor and the state’s political machine. Jake tried hard to wheedle money out of the electric utility people, but their support was little more than a public relations gesture.

A second debate between the candidates was scheduled for the Saturday after Labor Day, but the two campaign staffs were at loggerheads as to where the debate should be staged. Tomlinson wanted a venue that couldn’t be packed by Leeds’s cadres of union people. Leeds wanted an outdoor setting, where thousands of people could pour in.

It was during an all-night planning session with Tomlinson’s staff that Jake blurted, “Why don’t we hold the debate in the planetarium?”

They were meeting at Tomlinson’s campaign headquarters, a former supermarket in the heart of the capital city that had been closed for more than a year. The owners had been happy to rent it to the candidate for little more than a song. The floor was now covered with desks, each with its telephone and computer, all unattended, so late at night. The walls were plastered with huge posters of Tomlinson, smiling confidently.

Jake wished that Tomlinson looked that confident in reality.

Amy Wexler gave Jake a quizzical look. “The planetarium?”

Before Jake could reply, one of the aides shook his head. “Too small. Leeds won’t go for it.”

There were an even dozen of them sitting around a long table in the middle of the cavernous room. The high overhead lights glared on the rows of empty, silent desks.

Jake countered, “The planetarium can seat two hundred and fifty people. And it’s got TV links to the rest of the museum. We could even pipe the debate live outside, to the park. You could accommodate a thousand people or more out there easily.”

Amy looked at him thoughtfully. “You know, that might work. Leeds claims he supports education—”