Read Online Palace Council by Stephen L. Carter - Free Book Online

waste energy on charm. “What about these marks?” Pointing. “Are they the letter ‘A’?”
    This time she only shrugged.
    â€œAre there more crosses like this one?”
    â€œI would imagine so.”
    Her insouciance had started to annoy him. “You never asked? You wear it, but you don’t know anything about it?”
    Margot finally sat up. The sheet curtained at her waist. She beckoned lazily, fleshy fingers fluttering. “Come to bed,” she repeated. “Or else I’m going home.”
    â€œIt’s dangerous out there at night.”
    â€œIt’s dangerous everywhere.”
    â€œIt’s not dangerous in here.”
    â€œYou’re dangerous anywhere,” she said, leaning back for him.
    (II)
    E DDIE LED M ARGOT down the dank back stairs at five-thirty in the morning and bundled her into a waiting gypsy cab driven by his old friend Lenny from Scarlett’s gang, who never slept and was amused to cooperate in these ventures, and who, Eddie swore, could be trusted absolutely. On the sidewalk, Margot took his hand but did not kiss him.
    â€œThe next time you see me, I’ll be Mrs. Lanning Frost.”
    â€œAnd then what? First Lady in fifteen years?”
    â€œMaybe twenty.” The green eyes sparkled. “First we need to get Lanning into Congress—well, he always calls it
the
Congress, he’s such a pretentious bastard—and then wait for our senior Senator, or maybe even Poppa, to retire. A term in the Senate, maybe two, and then we’ll be ready.”
    â€œWe?”
    â€œMe and Lanning.” She laughed. Her lips brushed his cheek. “Don’t worry. I’ll get the Secret Service to sneak you in. We’ll have it off in the East Room.”
    â€œI’ll look forward to it,” he said playfully, but both knew he was anxious to be free of her.
    At the end of the alley a bus guttered past. A garbage truck followed, rattling. Working Harlem, the larger fraction, had started to wake. “Eddie?”
    â€œYes, Margot?”
    â€œWhy did you ask me all those questions about my cross?”
    He shrugged. Lenny Rouse was waving impatiently from the car. “I’ve never seen one like that before.”
    A long moment while the brilliant eyes measured him. “Yes, you have,” Margot said at last, and, rising on her toes, kissed his cheek. She put her small mouth to his ear. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I think you should leave it alone.”
    â€œLeave what alone?”
    â€œSome things can’t be stopped, Eddie.”
    â€œMargot—”
    â€œAnd some things shouldn’t be.”
    â€œI’m not going to interfere with your plans,” he promised, annoyed. “Tell you what. I’ll even vote for your husband.”
    Margot laughed, not unkindly. “Oh, Eddie. You think you’re so cynical and sophisticated, but you’re so naïve.”
    His cheeks burned. “I’m what?”
    â€œI’m not talking about
Lanning.
You can stop
Lanning
all you want.” Another peck, this one on his mouth. Then she scrambled into Lenny’s cab and pulled the door behind her, the Saint Peter’s Cross glistening at her neck.
    (III)
    C ONTRARY TO W ESLEY S ENIOR’S FEARS, his son was not lazy. He was a prodigious worker. He simply preferred writing to everything else. Research in particular came hard to him. One of his history professors had assured him, despairingly, that he could be a brilliant student if he spent less time at his diary and typewriter and more time in the library. But Eddie did not dream of being a brilliant student. He dreamed of being a brilliant writer. Too much research, he used to preach, would dull the pen. Thus his next actions would have confounded those who knew him, had he not carefully kept them secret. He began to frequent the city’s many libraries and museums. He read learned articles on the