When they came in I said, “Listen to this,” and read them the key paragraph. “How do you like it?”
“That ought to nail his hide to the door,” agreed Rog. “Here’s the ‘safe’ list, Chief. Want to look it over? We’re due there in twenty minutes.”
“Oh, that damned meeting. I don’t see why I should look at the list. Anything you want to tell me about it?” Nevertheless, I took the list and glanced down it. I knew them all from their Farleyfiles and a few of them from contact; I knew already why each one had to be taken care of.
Then I struck the name: Corpsman, William 1.
I fought down what I felt was justifiable annoyance and said quietly, “I see Bill is on the list, Rog.”
“Oh, yes. I wanted to tell you about that. You see, Chief, as we all know, there has been a certain amount of bad blood between you and Bill. Now I’m not blaming you; it’s been Bill’s fault. But there are always two sides. What you may not have realized is that Bill has been carrying around a tremendous inferiority feeling; it gives him a chip on the shoulder. This will fix it up.”
“So?”
“Yes. It is what he has always wanted. You see, the rest of us all have official status, we’re members of the G.A., I mean. I’m talking about those who work closely around, uh, you. Bill feels it. I’ve heard him say, after the third drink, that he was just a hired man. He’s bitter about it. You don’t mind, do you? The Party can afford it and it’s an easy price to pay for elimination of friction at headquarters.”
I had myself under full control by now. “It’s none of my business. Why should I mind, if that is what Mi. Bonforte wants?”
I caught just a flicker of a glance from Dak to Clifton. I added, “That is what Mr. B. wants? Isn’t it, Rog?”
Dak said harshly, “Tell him, Rog.”
Rog said slowly, “Dak and I whipped this up ourselves. We think it is for the best.”
“Then Mr. Bonforte did not approve it? You asked him, surely?”
“No, we didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Chief, this is not the sort of thing to bother him with. He’s a tired, old, sick man. I have not been worrying him with anything less than major policy decisions-which this isn’t. It is a district we command no matter who stands for it.”
“Then why ask my opinion about it at all?”
“Well, we felt you should know-and know why. We think you ought to approve it.”
“Me? You’re asking me for a decision as if I were Mr. Bonforte. I’m not.” I tapped the desk in his nervous gesture. “Either this decision is at his level, and you should ask him-or it’s not, and you should never have asked me.”
Rog chewed his cigar, then said, “All right, I’m not asking you.”
“No!”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean ‘NoV You did ask me; therefore there is doubt in your mind. So if you expect me to present that name to the committee- as 1/I were Bonforte-then go in and ask him.”
They both sat and said nothing. Finally Dak sighed and said, “Tell the rest, Rog. Or I will.”
I waited. Clifton took his cigar out of his mouth and said, “Chief, Mi. Bonforte had a stroke four days ago. He’s in no shape to be disturbed.”
I held still, and recited to myself all of “the cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,” and so forth. When I was back in shape I said, “How is his mind?”
“His mind seems clear enough, but he is terribly tired. That week as a prisoner was more of an ordeal than we realized. The stroke left him in a coma for twenty-four hours. He’s out of it now, but the left side of his face is paralyzed and his entire left side is partly out of service.”
“Uh, what does Dr. Capek say?”
“He thinks that as the clot clears up, you’ll never be able to tell the difference. But he’ll have to take it easier than he used to. But, Chief, right now he is ill. We’ll just have to carry on through the balance of the campaign without him.”