(1980) The Second Lady

by Irving Wallace

  ‘Self-survival,’ he said simply. He brought her drink and a napkin to her, then sat with his own. He raised his glass in a toast. ‘Your health, Mrs Bradford.’

  ‘I’ll drink to that.’ The Scotch warmed her. She took two more swallows before setting her glass down. ‘I was alone with Petrov a while. I wondered if my — my, what? — double? — my double was getting away with her act. Petrov insisted that she was doing perfectly. No one had the slightest suspicion of her, not my husband, not my friends, not my father. It was hard for me to believe. Should I believe it?’

  ‘I’m afraid so Mrs Bradford. It is true.’

  ‘I still find that unbelievable. How could the woman, pretending to be me, have learned so much?’

  ‘She’s an actress.’

  ‘An actress?’

  ‘A brilliant one, who happened to look like you. I was commanded to work with her, because of my background, my knowledge of English. I hated the assignment, but I had no choice. Actually, coaching the actress was fascinating in one way. I was fascinated, not with her, but with the role she was playing.’

  ‘She was playing me.’

  ‘Exactly. And, ever since you came into the public eye, I was aware of you and fascinated bv you.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘I don’t know. Perhaps because you were the prototype of the typical ail-American girl, California version. You were wonderfully pretty, open, frank, bright, zestful. I went with such an American girl once, when I was very young.’

  ‘I’m flattered,’ said Billie.

  Razin made a wry face. ‘Don’t be. I got too fascinated in cloning you. I did my job too well, to my regret.’

  ‘So for me there’s no hope on that score?’

  ‘That our actress will slip up, be exposed? No, I wouldn’t count on that.’

  ‘Then my only hope is getting out of here on my own, getting to the American embassy.’

  ‘Not a chance.’

  ‘With your help it could be possible. As I promised you the first day in this room, I could get you into the United States.’

  He stared down at the floor, turning it over in his mind. Almost imperceptibly, his head moved from side to side. ‘No, even with my help, you’d never make it. They’d find out I was involved. They’d —’

  ‘I’d die before telling them.’

  ‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘Let’s not speak of it again.’

  With a sigh of resignation, she reached for her drink and finished it. ‘To get back to Petrov. Those questions about my husband, our sex life. Did he really ask them to verify anything?’

  Razin smiled. ‘Of course not.’ He hesitated, finally spoke. ‘I’ll tell you what it is. They have a problem, but they don’t want you to know it. Something unforeseen has come up. I shouldn’t tell you, but I will if you’ll hold it in strictest confidence.’

  Billie held up her hand. ‘I swear.’

  ‘You had an appointment with your gynaecologist this week.’

  ‘My gynaecol —?’ she repeated, puzzled. ‘You mean — oh, Dr Sadek. I remember. Yes.’ Then she said quickly, ‘Your actress had to keep my appointment?’

  ‘That’s right. Unfortunately, your doctor met with an accident, so your double had to see his associate. She had to go through the examination, hear the verdict on your tests. I am sorry to have to tell you, Mrs Bradford, but you are not pregnant.’

  The news gave Billie a sting of disappointment and pain. She sat very still, letting it soak in. She felt her eyes fill, but fought off tears. She was sorry for Andrew, for herself, too. But hopefully, hopefully, there would be a next time.

  Razin was watching her worriedly. ‘I know it is upsetting,’ he said. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Never mind, I’m fine,’ she said. ‘Considering my circumstances here, maybe it’s just as well.’

  ‘As to your bleeding,’ Razin said. ‘Of course, your gynaecologist was examining another woman, and found her normal. But that tells you nothing about your own condition. Are you still bleeding? Because if you are, we can -‘

  ‘No bleeding,’ she said. ‘I’m okay.’

  ‘Good. Anyway, when you had started bleeding a few weeks ago, you were ordered not to have sexual relations with your husband for six weeks. Petrov found that very convenient for your double.’

  Billie sat up. ‘How did they know all that - my bleeding — no sex for six weeks — ?’

  ‘I haven’t the faintest idea. But the KGB knew it. Now they know something else. Your bleeding has stopped. You’ve been pronounced cured and healthy. The doctor says

  you and your husband — meaning your double and your husband — can resume having sex in five days from today.’

  in five days.’ Billie nodded, i see. Now my double has to know what my husband is like and what I’m like in — in bed?’

  ‘You’ve guessed it.’

  Billie smiled to herself briefly, but when she looked at Razin she was serious. ‘Mr Razin, I’m sure you know, I don’t intend to discuss this subject in any way. I don’t intend to help your actress.’

  Razin was sympathetic, i can’t blame you.’

  ‘I’m glad you understand. I may be liberated, but not that much. I think some things have to be private.’

  i agree with you. But it presents one problem for me. I managed to get Petrov out of here, prevent him from having you harmed, by insisting that I might be able to gain your cooperation by appealing to your reason. Now I have to prove to Petrov my way was the best way. If I go to him empty-handed, he may take over your interrogation again. For your own safety, I must give him something, anything, some crumb. If I can do that, I’ll have proved to him my way is better than his.’

  She stared at him. ‘What do you want from me?’

  ‘Oh, anything, anything - no matter how minor — as long as it is true.’

  Billie considered her answer. Obviously, what this man was saying to her was honest. If he could prove his manner was effective with her, it would keep Petrov off her neck. Yet, it revolted her to have to speak of Andrew’s sexual behaviour to strangers — not just strangers, but criminals. This man beside her, while one of them, at least had some instinct of decency. Also, he was half-American. The choice was a poor one, but it was a choice.

  She chose Razin over Petrov. ‘Well,’ she said hesitantly, ‘this is — this is embarrassing, you know —’

  i don’t want to hear anything that embarrasses you,’ he said quickly, ‘just some morsel that will keep Petrov quiet.’

  ‘Well — my husband — I suppose you could tell them, my

  husband — he doesn’t like normal — normal sex — in our — relationship.’

  There it was. Something for the bastards. It would keep them quiet. It might save her.

  Razin seemed pleased. He leaned forward to pat her hand. ‘Thank you. I know how difficult it was for you. But that’s quite enough. You needn’t say another word. This’ll help both of us.’

  ‘I— I appreciate your — your concern for me.’

  He was on his feet.

  ‘I’ll do everything I can for you, Mrs Bradford. You can depend on me. Good day.’

  Air Force One had taken off from Andrews Air Force Base in Maryland two hours ago, and now the four-engined giant jet was at maximum altitude over the Atlantic, its aluminium-and-steel frame hurtling toward London and the Summit Conference.

  In a corner of the spacious conference room of the thirty-five-foot-long presidential suite, Guy Parker and the First Lady reclined in blue easy chairs opposite one another, with Parker’s portable tape recorder resting on the table between them. Parker bent forward to see if the cassette had to be replaced, but he saw by the digital counter that there was plenty of tape left.

  Satisfied, he sat back and concentrated on the task of getting more material from Billie Bradford for her autobiography. ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘I think we have all we need on your courtship with the President and the wedding. What I’d like to tackle next is your marriage. But before going into
the highlights, I’d like to know more of your personal relationship with your husband up to this point. I mean, intimate little things no one else would know. How you two get along from breakfast to bed. Don’t hold back. Just tell me what you can as frankly as possible. You’ll be able to edit it, of course, when. I show you the first draft. But for now, be up front with me, Billie. I repeat, every intimate detail -‘

  That instant, he caught the expression on her face, and stopped in mid-sentence. She was aghast.

  ‘Guy, are you crazy?’ she said. ‘You know better. Under no circumstances will I discuss anything intimate about

  Andrew and myself. Not on your life. I thought that was understood from the start.’

  Parker was taken aback. ‘But you once —’

  ‘No,’ she said emphatically. ‘Forget it.’

  ‘Billie, I don’t mean -‘

  ‘Please don’t argue with me’ She shook a cigarette loose from the pack on the table. ‘Better move on to something else.’

  Bewildered, he put a light to her cigarette, and finally settled back. ‘All right, something else. Your husband’s personality, as you see it.’

  ‘You mean, like his moods and so forth?’

  ‘His temperament, his humour, whatever comes to mind.’

  She exhaled a stream of smoke. ‘Let me think -‘

  She began to recall things about her husband. All of it was flattering, most of it puerile. Parker half listened. The tape spun on.

  Dull stuff, he thought. She was usually brighter, more insightful than this. She talked for ten minutes, while he waited patiently for a cue that he could pick up to lead her back to where she had side-tracked him.

  ‘That’s interesting,’ Parker interrupted, ‘about the President’s being such a movie fan. He used to hang out with some of the movie crowd, didn’t he?’

  ‘A few were his friends.’

  ‘I believe he was even dating an actress, a movie star, when he met you and began going out with you - and then, if I remember, he took you to a party, and the star was there, and the two of you met —’

  ‘Not so, Guy. He had been going with this movie star, but she and I — no, we never met.’

  ‘I thought I’d heard -‘

  ‘No matter what you heard, we never met.’ The First Lady wriggled free of the easy chair and came to her feet. She stretched. ‘Enough talking for now,’ she said. She indicated the bedroom with its two single beds. ‘I’m going to lie down for a while. We’d all better be rested for London. Thanks, Guy.’

  Dismissed, he quickly shut off his tape recorder, picked it up, and made for the door.

  ‘I’ll try to find some time for us in London,’ she called after him.

  ‘I’d appreciate that.’

  Outside the presidential suite, Parker moved from the forward part of the plane, past the next compartment where the four Secret Service agents, the four Air Force security guards, and the Navy nurse were seated, into the roomy compartment which was reserved for the White House staff. Across from the Xerox machine, Parker saw that one of the two electric typewriters was not in use. He considered using it to make some notes, then decided against it. He wasn’t in. the mood. He had too much on his mind.

  He glanced about the compartment. Most of the oversized seats were occupied by staff members either dozing or reading. The chairs faced each other, separated by tables, and in one pair sat presidential adviser Wayne Gibbs and protocol chief Fred Willis engrossed in a game of gin rummy. Just beyond them sat Nora Judson, busily making notes on a pad at her table. The chair opposite her was empty. Parker thought of taking it. He had to unburden himself to someone from the East Wing. Perhaps Nora wasn’t the best choice, the way she seemed to avoid him and be uncommunicative in his presence, but there was no other choice. Besides, he liked to look at her bosom.

  Parker took the chair across from Nora. She did not raise her head. She kept on writing.

  ‘Mind if I smoke?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s a free country,’ she said, continuing to scribble away.

  He pulled his crusted brown pipe out of his pocket, filled it with tobacco, and applied a light with a match from the book of matches bearing the presidential seal on one side and imprinted Air Force One on the other. He sat listening to the hum of the plane’s turbofans, reviewing his meeting with Billie, and in doing so he could feel his face set in a frown.

  He considered opening up a conversation with the beautiful icicle across from him, and had just reconsidered and decided against it, when she looked up at him.

  ‘What’s got into you?’ she said. ‘You don’t look too happy. Anything wrong?’

  Her interest encouraged him. ‘I’m confused,’ he said. ‘Your Billie is very confusing.’

  Nora threw down her pencil and sat back, fingertips touching. ‘Now what?’

  ‘I just had a session with her. I wanted to go into her personal life with the President. You would have thought I insulted her. She wouldn’t discuss it. Not a word. Not a thing. Yet — listen to this, Nora — when we started our talks two months ago, one of the first things she told me was that she would discuss her private life with the President freely with me, providing she could see it later. She promised she’d go as far as possible to spice up the book, try to make them both look human. That was two months ago. Now, a half-hour ago, she says no soap, she’d never dream of discussing their personal life. She tells me I should have known that all along.’ He removed the pipe from his mouth. ‘Don’t you find that pretty odd?’

  Nora gave a small shrug of her shoulders. ‘What’s so odd? In two months she could have changed her mind.’

  ‘But so completely? And acting like we’d never discussed it before? I don’t get it.’ Since he had Nora’s ear, he made up his mind to go on. He pressed against the table. ‘Another thing. Maybe you can explain this one. Early on, when we first started our talks and were skipping around from this to that, I told Billie I’d read somewhere in my research that when Andrew Bradford met her, he was going out pretty steady with a famous movie actress. He started dating Billie, too. He escorted Billie to a dinner party and they bumped into the actress. A sticky moment. I asked Billie whether it was true, and, if it was, would she talk about things like that. I remember how she reacted. She laughed and said yes, it had happened, and it was a funny thing and she’d tell me about it when we got to it in the book. So okay, just now in the presidential suite, when it seemed appropriate, I brought

  up the whole incident, and she went cold on me. She insisted that she had never run into that actress at a party, had never met the actress at all, and just shut me off.’ He put a light to his pipe. ‘I tell you, Nora, I don’t know what to make of it, such a blatant contradiction.’

  Nora eyed him curiously. ‘Do you have those so-called contradictory statements by her on tape?’

  ‘Not exactly. This one I have.’ He rapped his tape recorder. ‘But not the first one. We weren’t taping things in the beginning. Just talked away, feeling each other out.’ ‘I see. So you’re simply trusting your memory.’ This annoyed him. ‘I’m hardly senile, Nora.’ ‘No, but you’re human. We all get mixed up sometimes.’ ‘I’m not mixed up. She contradicted herself badly. And while we’re at it, let me tell you something else. Ever since she got back from Moscow, she’s like another person, as far as I’m concerned. Our sessions used to be a pleasure. She was funny, lively, clever. Now — now she’s simply dull — just blah. You wouldn’t know it was the same person. I mean, there was one Billie I got to know. Then off she goes to Moscow for a few days, and now she seems a different Billie.’ ‘Oh, she’s just worn out, that’s all. Look the way the President has been running her around. She’s whipped.’

  Parker started shaking his head. ‘No, it’s more than that, Nora. It’s as if she was brainwashed while she was in Moscow. I could give you at least a half-dozen other examples of her odd behaviour recently -‘

  Nora cut in on him. ‘Don’t bother Guy. I don’t want to hear any more,
because it’s utter nonsense. I like you, Guy, in many ways, but when you become suspicious, fanciful, obsessive, it can be tiresome. I suggest you jettison that hugger-mugger stuff before we land in London. Stick to reality and to your job, and save the rest of your imaginings for a novel. I promise you I’ll buy the novel. But I won’t buy this. Now excuse me, I’ve got to go to the bathroom.’

  This was the evening of their official welcome to England, the reception and dinner hosted by Prime Minister Dudley

  Heaton and his wife Penelope for Premier Dmitri Kirechenko of the USSR and President Andrew Bradford of the USA and their wives.

  This would have also been one of the most exciting evenings in her life, Vera thought, if she weren’t so deeply worried. The knowledge that three nights from now she would be having sexual intercourse — or whatever he expected — with the President haunted Vera. Unless she heard from her KGB contacts in the next seventy-two hours, she would be in serious trouble. Fear of the unknown gnawed at Vera, and destroyed any prospect of pleasure.

  When they had touched down at Northolt Airport last night, she should have been brimming with anticipation. She had never been to London, as Billie Bradford had, but Alex had thoroughly prepared her for what to expect. It was an experience she had looked forward to throughout her training period. But, despite all the pomp and ceremony in the floodlighted area at the air terminal, apprehension tagged along at her heels.

  Ensconced in one of a fleet of gleaming Rolls-Royces, she tried to appear excited and curious the entire fifteen miles to London’s West End, but inside she brooded. When her Rolls entered Brook Street, and pulled up before the revolving door of the reserved and majestic Claridge’s Hotel, she made an effort at showing interest. In the richly carpeted lobby, surrounded by Secret Service men and British security officers, she had no more than a glimpse of the ground floor. To her left a small porter’s desk and beyond it some sort of key counter, across from the porter’s desk a single elegant elevator, straight ahead a broad lounge with a costumed orchestra and people drinking and waiters in knee breeches, and to her right the lobby sitting area next to a wide sweeping staircase.