Saving Faith By: David Baldacci

list and went prowling again for other members. From years of

practice, Buchanan navigated with ease the labyrinths of the Senate and

House office buildings where even veterans of the Hill sometimes became

lost. The only other place where he spent as much time was the Capitol

itself. His eyes darted left and right, picking up on everyone he saw,

staff members or other lobbyists, swiftly making a calculation as to

whether a particular person could help the cause or not. And when you

went into chambers with members or caught them in the halls, you had

better be ready to roll. They were busy, often harassed, and thinking

of five hundred things at once. Fortunately, Buchanan could summarize

the most complex issues in a matter of sentences, a talent for which he

was legendary; members, besieged on all sides by special interests of

every kind, absolutely demanded this skill. And he could pitch his

client’s position with passion. All in two minutes while walking down

a crowded corridor or while packed inside an elevator or, if he was

very lucky, on a long plane flight. Catching the really powerful

members was important. If he could get the Speaker of the House to

voice support for one of his bills, even informally, Buchanan would use

that to leverage other members on the fence. Sometimes that was

enough. “He in, Doris?” Buchanan asked as he popped his head into a

member’s chambers and eyed the matronly appointments secretary, a

veteran of the place.

“He’s leaving in five minutes to catch a flight, Danny.”

“That’s great because I only need two minutes. I can use the other

three to catch up with you. I like talking to you better anyway. And

God bless Steve, but you’re far easier on the eye, my dear.”

Doris’s heavy face crinkled into a smile. “You smoothie, you.”

And he got his two minutes with Congressman Steve.

Buchanan next had stopped at the cloakroom and found out which Senate

committees had been assigned to a series of bills he was interested in.

There were committees of primary and sequential and, in rare cases,

concurrent jurisdiction, depending on what was in a particular bill.

Simply determining who had what bill and in what priority of importance

was a huge, ever-changing jigsaw puzzle that lobbyists had to

constantly figure out. It was often a maddening challenge, and there

was no one better at it than Danny Buchanan.

In the course of this day Buchanan had, as always, plied members’

offices with his “leave behinds,” information and summaries the staffs

would need to educate their members on the issues. If they had a

question or concern, he would find an answer or an expert, promptly.

And Buchanan had concluded every single meeting with the all-important

question: “When can I follow up?” Without getting a date certain, he

would never hear back from any of them. He would be forgotten, his

place taken by a hundred others clamoring just as passionately for

their clients.

Then he had spent the late afternoon covering other clients normally

handled by Faith. He gave apologies and vague explanations for her

absence. What else could he do?

After that he gave remarks at a think-tank-sponsored seminar on world

hunger, and then it was back to his office to make phone calls ranging

from reminding members’ staffs of a variety of issues coming up for

vote, to drumming up coalition support from other charitable

organizations. A couple of dinners were arranged, future overseas

travel booked, along with a visit in January to the White House, where

he would personally introduce the president to the new head of an

international children’s rights organization. It was a real coup that

Buchanan and the organizations he supported hoped would generate some

good publicity. They were constantly on the lookout for celebrity

support. Faith had been particularly good at that. Journalists were

rarely interested in the poor from faraway lands, but throw in a

Hollywood superstar and the media room would be bursting with scribes.

Such was life.

Then Buchanan had spent some time doing his FARA–Foreign Agent

Registration Act-quarterly reports, which were a real pain in the ass,

particularly since you had to stamp every page filed with Congress with

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