The Fourth K

And Jeralyn was under no illusion as to what the rent-paying lobbyist could get out of it. Dazzy's decisions would not be influenced, but at least he would, on rare occasions, take the lobbyist's calls to the White House so that the lobbyist's clients would be impressed by such access.

Jeralyn gave all this information to Martin Mutford when they gossiped together. It was understood that the information between the two of them was not to be used in any way and certainly not in any form of blackmail.

That could be disastrous and destroy the main purpose of the restaurant, which was to further the atmosphere of good fellowship and earn a sympathetic ear for the lobbyists who were footing the bill. Plus the fact that the restaurant was Jeralyn's main source of livelihood and she would not allow it to be jeopardized.

So Jeralyn was very much surprised when Christian Klee dropped in on her when the restaurant was almost empty between lunch and di

She murmured some words of commiseration about the terrible times he must be going through, what with the murder and the hijacking, but was careful not to sound as if she were fishing for inside information. Klee thanked her.

Then he said, "Jeralyn, we've known each other a long time and I want to alert you, for your protection. I know what I'm about to say will shock you as much as it does me."

Oh, shit, Jeralyn thought. Somebody is making trouble for me.

Christian Klee went on. "A lobbyist for financial interests is a good friend of Eugene Dazzy and he tried to lay some bullshit on him. He urged Dazzy to sign a paper that would do President Ke

He warned Dazzy that his using one of your apartments could be made public and ruin his career and his marriage." Klee laughed. "Jesus, who would ever have thought Eugene was capable of a thing like that. What the hell, I guess we're all human."

Jeralyn was not fooled by Christian's good humor. She knew she had to be very careful or her whole life might go down the drain. Klee was Attorney General of the United States, and had acquired the reputation of being a very dangerous man. He could give her more trouble than she could handle, even though her ace in the hole was Martin Mutford. She said, "I didn't have anything to do with all that. Sure, I gave Dazzy the key to one of the apartments upstairs. But hell, that was just a courtesy of the house. There are no records of any kind. Nobody could pin anything on me or Dazzy."

"Sure, I know that," Christian said. "But don't you see, that lobbyist would never dare pull that shit on his own? Somebody higher up told him what to do."

Jeralyn said uneasily, "Christian, I swear I never blabbed to anyone. I would never put my restaurant in jeopardy. I'm not that dumb."

"I know, I know," Christian said reassuringly. "But you and Martin have been very good friends for a very long time. You may have told him, just as a piece of gossip."

Now Jeralyn was really horrified. Suddenly she was between two powerful men who were about to do battle. More than anything else in the world she wanted to step outside the arena. She also knew that the worst thing to do was lie.

"Martin would never try such a dumb thing," she said. "Not that kind of stupid blackmail." By saying this, she admitted she had told Martin and yet could deny that she had explicitly confessed.

Christian was still reassuring. He saw that she had not guessed the real purpose of his visit. He said, "Eugene Dazzy told the lobbyist to go fuck himself. Then he told me the story and I said I would take care of it. Now, of course, I know they can't expose Dazzy. For one thing, I'd come down on you and this place so hard you'd think a tank hit you. You'd have to identify all the people in Congress who used those apartments. There would be one hell of a scandal. Your friend was just hoping Dazzy would lose his nerve. But Eugene figured that one out."

Jeralyn was still unbelieving. "Martin would never instigate something so dangerous. He's a banker." She smiled at Christian, who sighed and decided it was time to get tough.

"Listen, Jeralyn," he said. "Do I have to remind you that old 'Take It

Private' Martin is not your usual nice stolid conservative banker. He's had a few trouble spots in his life.

And he didn't make his billions by playing it safe. He's cut things a bit close before." He paused for a moment. "Now he's meddling in something very dangerous for you and for him."

Jeralyn gave a contemptuous wave of her hand. "You said yourself you knew I had nothing to do with whatever the hell he is doing."

"True," Christian said. "I know that. But now Martin is a man I have to watch. And I want you to help me watch him. "

Jeralyn was adamant. "Like hell," she said. "Martin has always treated me decently. He's a real friend."

Christian said, "I don't want you to be a spy. I don't want any information about his business dealings or about his personal life. All I'm asking is that if you know anything or find out any moves he's going to make against the President, you give me fair warning."

"Oh, fuck you," Jeralyn said. "Get the hell out of here, I have to get ready for the supper crowd."

"Sure," Christian said amiably. "I'm leaving. But remember this, I am the

Attorney General of the United States. We're in tough times and it doesn't hurt to have me as a friend. So use your own judgment when the time comes.

If you slip me just a little warning, no one will ever know. Use your own good sense."

He left. He had accomplished his purpose. Jeralyn might tell Martin Mutford about their interview, which was fine, for that would make Mutford more cautious. Or she would not tell Martin and when the time came she'd snitch.

Either way he couldn't lose.

The driver cut off the siren and they were gliding through the gates of the Oracle's estate. Christian noted that there were three limousines waiting in the circular driveway. And it was curious that the drivers were in their seats behind the wheel and not outside smoking cigarettes. Beside each car lounged a tall well-dressed man.

Christian nailed them at once. Bodyguards. So the Oracle had important visitors. And this must be why the old man had summoned him so urgently.

Christian was greeted by the butler, who led him to a living room furnished for a conference. The Oracle was in his wheelchair waiting.

Around the table were four members of the Socrates Club. Christian was surprised to see them. His latest report had been that all four were in California.

The Oracle motored his wheelchair to the head of the table. "You must forgive me, Christian, for this slight deception," he said. "I felt that it was important that you meet with my friends at this critical time.

They are anxious to talk to YOU."

Servants had set the conference table with coffee and sandwiches. There were also drinks being served, the servers summoned by a buzzer the Oracle could reach beneath the table. The four members of the Socrates

Club had already refreshed themselves. Martin Mutford had lit a huge cigar and unbuttoned his collar, loosened his tie. He looked a little grim, but Christian knew that this grimness was often a tightening of the muscles to conceal fear.

He said, "Martin, Eugene Dazzy told me one of your lobbyists gave him some bad advice today. I hope you had nothing to do with that."

"Dazzy can weed out good from bad," Mutford said. "Otherwise he wouldn't be the President's chief of staff."