Contents ( 84)
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
- SEVENTY-FIVE
- SEVENTY-SIX
- SEVENTY-SEVEN
- SEVENTY-EIGHT
- SEVENTY-NINE
- EIGHTY
- EIGHTY-ONE
- EIGHTY-TWO
- EIGHTY-THREE
- Acknowledgements
Grace watched Dempsey’s reaction as he processed everything she’d told him. When he spoke again, he focused on the one question Grace couldn’t yet answer.
‘OK. OK. Let’s say for a minute that you’re right. That Knowles is the great man you say. That he did nothing wrong in Tootkai. That he even sent you to warn me. If that’s true – if you’re right – then why is any of this happening?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, why has everyone who has even mentioned his war record been attacked?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘And if the president is aware that death sentences are being handed down by the Secret Service, why is he doing nothing about it? Why did he have to speak to you in code?’
‘I don’t know, Dempsey!’ Grace’s voice was raised and emotional. ‘I haven’t had a personal conversation with John Knowles in three years. Ever since he went into that office. He is never alone. Ever.’
‘Never?’
‘No. And it’s changed him. He isn’t himself. He had all these dreams. Things he was going to do to make the country and the world better. He’s done none of them. And the things he has done? Backtracking on environmental protections? Arms sales to Saudi? The medical insurance stuff? Damn it, everything he’s done in the last three years . . . none of that is the John Knowles I know. None of it. He’s not himself, Dempsey. And he’s not the president he was supposed to be.
‘I want to know why that is, just as much as you do. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this. Even if it means proving you right on Tootkai. Even if it means discovering that Knowles and my dad were never the men I knew.’
She took a deep breath.
‘Whatever it takes. I just want the truth.’
SIXTY-SIX
In the three years since his appointment as deputy assistant to the president, Kelvin Cunningham had not missed a single day of work. In fact, he had not missed even five minutes of a meeting.
His schedule was strict. He awoke each morning at 4 a.m. He would exercise, shower and dress, all in time to leave by 5.30 a.m. so he would be in the White House Office no later than 6 a.m.
The routine had become infamous. The source of endless conversations that included the question ‘how does he do it?’
A question which, to Cunningham’s mind, was the wrong way around. He could not understand why others did not live that way. He thrived on it. On the workload. On the schedule. He could hardly imagine another way of living.
And that, he always told himself, was why he was Kelvin Cunningham. Why he’d succeeded over those around him.
It was this obsessive routine that made today such an anomaly. It was 6.20 a.m. and Cunningham was not even up yet. He was still in his dressing gown, seated upright against the velvet head of his king-sized bed.