Mark purchased a showplace estate off Foxhall Road, then staffed it with Indian and Japanese domestics. With a $3 million loan advance from one of his family trusts, he was able to give generously to Washington cultural and civic charities, and it was soon apparent that his star was rising. It would be impossible to conceive of a more desirable member of Washington society than this brilliant, successful, well-traveled heir to one of America’s great fortunes.

Now, ten years after Mark had been ensconced in the capital network, Tauriq Haddad had suddenly come back into his life. As Mark Beaulieu knelt in prayer in the National Cathedral, he felt someone slide in beside him, praying fervently for the families of the West Coast tragedy. It was Tauriq Haddad, who had even arranged this seat by calling in some long-forgotten favor from the head usher. Tauriq will stop at nothing, Mark thought. He even bribed someone to get a seat at a prayer meeting.

They shared a hymnal during the closing hymn. During the singing, Tauriq leaned close to Mark Beaulieu and said, “Congratulations, Mr. Vice President. Your uncle Shiva is working on your behalf.” After the benediction, he left ahead of Mark and was gone without further comment.

After that came a series of discreet telephone calls from Tauriq Haddad to key members of Congress. Each call followed the same theme. “I understand that the president is going to recommend Mark Beaulieu as his new vice president. It would give me great pleasure to know that this exceptional young man will be approved quickly so that he may begin to serve the president and the nation in this time of great physical and emotional stress. Don’t you agree that he will be a superb vice president?”

Each recipient of that message had also been the recipient of corporate PAC money—bundled $1,000 individual checks, bank loans, and immense soft-dollar contributions—all of which had been arranged by Tauriq Haddad.

WHEN TED RUST ARRIVED at the Oval Office later that night, accompanied by his interim chief of staff, the Speaker of the House was on the phone. “Mr. President,” he said, “we are with you in this emergency. I’m calling about the vice presidential appointment. I hear you’re considering Congressman Mark Beaulieu. We’ll miss him over here, but he’s a fine choice. I just want to assure you that the nomination will sail through.” Next was the Senate majority leader, who offered a similar message.

Ted Rust was so occupied with the enlarging Pacific disaster that he had ignored the need to fill the vital office of the person who would succeed him in the event of another tragedy. He had heard of the brilliant Congressman Beaulieu, but he hardly knew him.

“Benares,” he called to his chief of staff. “Tell me something about Mark Beaulieu. What kind of vice president would he make?”