flared: What could be more important to jokers-to anybody-than that a psychopathic ace may become the next president of the United States? She thought of the puppet master's finger poised above the famed red button and wanted to vomit.
Delegates and reporters were streaming from the big corner Sidney Room, flushed and noisy as schoolkids. "What's going on?" she asked one, mainly because he was little taller than she was.
"It's Barnett's crazies," he told her. "They came up with something juicy on Hartmann." He was vibrating with gratified malice. He wore glasses and a big Dukakis button.
Could this be it? she wondered, starting to feel cheated that it wasn't her hand that had driven the stake through the monster's heart.
"They got to someone who was on the W. H. O. tour last year. Turns out Hartmann spent the whole time having himself a fling with some bimbo reporter from The Washington Post."
The parade of delegates and politicians through Gregg's suite seemed endless-Gregg had to admit that Amy had done a tremendous job contacting people on extremely short notice.
But then most delegates were anxious to meet with the front-runner among the candidates, and none of the elected officials wanted to offend the man who might possibly be the next president.
As for Gregg, the afternoon was interminable and taking its toll. He thought he'd locked Puppetman away tightly. He'd even begun to hope that maybe, just maybe, the voice inside his head would stay silent for the rest of the week. But the bars holding Puppetman were beginning to weaken again. He could hear the power, alternately pleading and threatening.
Let me nut! You have to let me out!
He ignored it as well as he could, but his temper was shorter than usual, and his smile was sometimes more a grimace. It was worst with the politicians, most of whom he could have gotten to agree, with a touch of Puppetman's influence, and who now could say no with impunity. That was when Puppetman howled the most.
Ohio Senators Glenn and Metzenbaum showed up on schedule. Ellen greeted them at the door; Gregg was changing his shirt in the bedroom. Gregg could hear Metzenbaum being his usual ingratiating self. "So it is true. Expectant mothers do glow."
Ellen laughed as Gregg walked in. "John, Howard," he said, nodding to them. "Please grab something from the bar if you want, and thanks for coming on such short notice. I'm trying to meet as many influential people as I can on this-you were both at the top of that list."
Get out. That's what he really wanted to say. I'm tired and ragged and my mind's splitting in half. Leave me alone. Metzenbaum smiled politely; Glenn, with the old astronaut's exaggerated calm, simply nodded, if anything more stonefaced than usual. The two were looking at Ellen pointedly. Gregg didn't need to say anything; Ellen was wellexperienced at picking up such cues.
"Well, I'll leave you folks to your politics," she said. "I've a meeting of my own with the NOW delegates. You are backing the ERA, aren't you?" She smiled again and took her leave. Gregg walked her to the door. On impulse, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her deeply. "Listen, Ellen, I just want you to know how much I appreciate all your help today, without you ... well, that incident this morning. Please don't think any more of it. I'm just tired, that's all. The stress ..."
He couldn't seem to stop talking. The words just kept tumbling out and he felt closer to her than he had in months. "I wouldn't do anything to hurt you . ."
Glenn and Metzenbaum were staring. Ellen stopped his words with a quick kiss. "You have guests, dear," she said, looking at him strangely.
Gregg smiled apologetically; it felt more like a death'shead grin. "Yes, I supppose ... I'll see you in a bit for dinner: Bello Mondo, right?"
"Six-thirty. Amy said she'd call to remind you." Ellen hugged Gregg wordlessly. "I love you." She gave him another long look, and stepped out.
Down below, Puppetman howled for attention. Gregg felt sweat beading on his brow. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and turned back into the room.
"Ohio's been very good to me, gentlemen," he said. "You two are largely responsible. I suppose you're both aware that we're looking for support on 9(c) and the California--" They weren't listening. Gregg stopped in mid-sentence. "What?" he asked.
"We have a bigger problem, Gregg," Glenn said. "Bad news, I'm afraid. There's