24

BY THE TIME THE limo turned off Interstate 95 in Stamford, Connecticut, and pulled into the parking lot of a nearby Friendly’s Restaurant, Fiore had seen the faces of all the people he would start to visit in about two weeks. He watched them talk to the camera about themselves, and listened to Berman, on the video, fill in a number of other background facts on each of them. Berman rewound the tape and gave it to him. “Do your homework on these folks,” he said. “If you bump into any of them at the Trinity Theatre or the TK Club, you should recognize them and know their names without any hesitation.”

Tarantino was silent throughout the tutelage. In the parking area, he jotted down their food orders on a piece of paper and gave it to the driver. Berman declared it an official break time. “I don’t want to discuss anything else about the campaign until we’re through eating,” he said. He got out of the limo to stretch.

“This guy’s good, Doug,” Sandy said. “I want you to listen to everything he tells you.” After a moment’s pause, he corrected himself. “I mean I want you to do whatever he says. We’re paying him good money to get you elected. He’s been through the mill on this stuff and he knows his way around. You’d make us very unhappy if you did something Cyril was against and it cost us the election. We’ve all got to be on the same wavelength. Right, buddy?”

Fiore knew it was time to simply agree. Sandy’s voice made it clear he was dead serious about him taking his orders from Berman.

“Right. No debate. I hear what you’re saying,” he replied.

After that, the two of them took the opportunity to engage in some small talk, inquiring first about each other’s family. Fiore asked whether Tarantino had any thoughts about the kind of contract settlement that management was looking for at Ocean State Wire & Cable, whether he was discussing the matter with the Platt brothers. He was surprised to find that Sandy knew all the current wage rates for production employees at the plant, and what it was costing the Company on an hourly basis for employee health insurance and pensions, its major fringe benefits.

“I imagine your negotiator will show the Union how much money Ocean State lost last year,” Sandy said. “Hopefully, that will make it a little easier to settle.” He gave Doug his view of what changes ought to take place in the most important economic items over the three-year term of a new agreement and waited for Fiore to write them down. “Those are the wage and benefit numbers we’re looking at for a settlement, and they should be the only major issues,” he concluded. He never said whether the numbers were discussed with the Platts.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Fiore replied. “Johnny Morelli gave Hanley a pretty miserable time three years ago. He called his bluff on the final offer Hanley gave him, and won. That was your decision, remember. What if Morelli feels like trying to do more of the same and get everything he can?”

“I’m not worried about that, Doug. I couldn’t do anything about the situation last time. There was too much emotion involved and it was the Machinists’ first contract there. They had to come out of it smelling like roses. This time I’ll have a friend of mine take a message to Morelli.”

“Will he listen to you?” Doug asked.

“I can’t order him around. I can only try and reason with him. But make sure you let your guy—what’s his name, Ryder—make sure Ryder knows the numbers I just gave you on the economics. He’ll know the Union wants to settle if Morelli shows he’s willing to go along with those same numbers.”

Fiore nodded affirmatively to confirm that he’d speak to Ryder. After a brief silence he said, “It’s not my business, Sandy, so you don’t have to say anything, but have you or the Platts given any thought to selling the place or shutting it down?”

Tarantino shifted in his seat before answering. “Irwin Platt is getting a little impatient, I’d say. He’s got real deep pockets but he doesn’t like it when his hand can almost feel the bottom. I’ve been encouraging him to give it more time. He says he will, but who knows what he’ll do if there’s any serious cash squeeze from their other businesses. I think Ocean State will do a lot better if we can ever get out of this goddam recession.”

Fiore pressed a little further. “What if Hanley’s determined to settle for less than the numbers you gave me and the Union threatens to strike? I mean what if he thinks that to save the plant or just to save face he’s got to get back some of the stuff he gave Morelli three years ago?”

Sandy answered without any hesitation. “I figure Ryder has been around the track enough times to know how to rein him in and avoid a fight if Morelli isn’t looking for one. The guy is supposed to be a pro at what he does. You told me that yourself. But if there’s a real problem, we’ll talk about it. See if you can keep up with what’s going on over there. Shit, old buddy, you don’t have anything else to do, do you?”

They both laughed out loud.

The driver brought the food and Berman returned to the limo. They ate quickly, filling the back of the car with small talk about the Celtics and Knicks and how the fortunes of the two teams had changed dramatically from what they were five years earlier.

“The Knicks could spot the Celtics ten points a game and win nine out of ten times,” Berman said.

No one argued with him. “You can’t expect the Celts to do much without a big man in the middle,” Fiore offered.

“Hold it there,” Berman interrupted. “Those words of wisdom you just spoke, Doug, reminded me of something. I don’t want to get personal, but I want to make sure you understand that Mr. and Mrs. John Q. Public expect their candidates for high office to have various attributes. High on that list is a very elusive thing called morality. I know for a fact that you have an excellent reputation in that regard. But between us guys, it’s that big man in the middle that can cause trouble. Know what I mean, Doug? Let me put it as simply as I can. It’s virtually impossible to get elected to public office if you get caught with your pants down. I mean literally. It cost Gary Hart a real shot at the Presidency, no doubt about it. Clinton slid by, with everything he did, because it all happened with him before anyone knew who he was. So don’t screw up, and that was no pun intended.” Berman and Tarantino had agreed earlier that nothing would be said at that time about Fiore’s affair with Carol Singer.

Fiore sat looking at Berman, his eyes riveted on the man who clearly controlled his immediate future. Berman returned the gaze at first but it made him uncomfortable and he turned to get something out of his briefcase.

“Sandy?”

“Yeah Doug.”

“Ask Cyril a question for me, will you?”

Tarantino was about to tell him to do it himself, but something in Fiore’s eyes, something he could recall from their days together in college, prompted him to go along with the request. He knew whatever was coming would be funny.

“Sure. What do you want me to ask him?”

Berman looked back and forth at the two of them. He didn’t know what was going on and felt awkward as he waited.

Fiore hesitated. He kept his eyes on Berman, prolonging the suspense. When he spoke, he let the words come very slowly. “Ask Cyril … whether it’s okay … if I’m only caught with my fly open.”

Berman’s look of disbelief quickly faded in the wake of the boisterous laughter coming from the two men sitting across from him. He was about to reemphasize how serious he was but was stopped short by a quick wink from Tarantino.

* * *

When they got back on the highway, Berman announced that it was “quiz time.” He took out his copy of the notebook containing the policy positions sent to Fiore earlier. Asking questions as if he was the only member of the media who was present at a news conference, Berman took Fiore through every one of the campaign issues he was instructed to study. If Doug said too much, he was cautioned to think like a witness in court.

“Answer only what you’ve been asked. That’s important,” Berman stressed. “Don’t volunteer anything else.”

If Fiore’s answer deviated at all from the position prepared for him, Cyril scolded him in a professional manner and made him discuss the particular point again.

Berman posed some questions that weren’t covered at all in the position papers, knowing they would catch Fiore unawares. He simply wanted to see how Doug reacted under fire to something he knew little or nothing about. After each one, he showed his client how to sidestep the inquiry and discuss something he was familiar with instead. He also instructed him on the correct way to avoid answering a question when he hadn’t yet had the opportunity to review all the facts.

“This is very important also,” Berman cautioned. “They don’t expect you to know everything, even though they ask it. Just don’t make up things as you go along for the sake of sounding smart at that moment. Someone there will always check out what you said. If they catch you in a lie or just plain wrong about something, they’ll crucify you in the papers.”

The limo turned off the highway again shortly after crossing the long span of bridge just beyond New London. Berman continued his persistent grilling until they pulled up in front of the single terminal at the Groton-New London airport.

“You sound very good, Doug,” Sandy said. “I’m really impressed. You’re going to be a hell of a candidate. But we’re getting close to Rhode Island and sometimes the boys in blue like to pull a limo over just to see who’s inside. It’s probably the easiest way to get themselves free concert tickets if they stop the right car. If they see me in here, they’ll want to know who you two are, and that would get reported to a few of the wrong people right away. We don’t want that to happen, do we? So you two can get out here and go the rest of the way by yourselves.”

Tarantino shook hands with Berman. “I reserved a Buick at Hertz under your name, Cyril. Thanks for meeting us in New York. I’ll be in touch.” He extended his hand to Fiore. “Talk to you soon, old buddy. Don’t forget what I said before about the campaign.”

On the way to Providence, the soon to be candidate and his undercover manager talked sports again most of the time. They went back and forth about how the Red Sox and Yankees were doing in spring training, which of the two teams would finish the season higher in the standings and how the new free agents they picked up would help each of them.

As they neared the city, Berman said, “I understand from Sandy that you were delighted with his suggestion you run for governor and with his Family’s willingness to back your campaign financially. He said he expected you to need a couple of weeks to think about it, check with your wife, sound out the partners at your firm and call your friends, but that you took just three days to let him know you were gung ho for it. That’s a great attitude to have going in to one of these things, but let me assure you there’ll be times before it’s over when you’ll wish you never gave running for office a second thought.”

Doug didn’t say anything. There was no point in correcting the version of events Berman was given. After all, Sandy was making that scenario look a whole lot better than it was.

“We went over a whole lot of stuff tonight,” Berman continued, “but it was all me talking and you listening. Is there anything I should know that you want to tell me before the hard work begins?”

Fiore was pleased with the opportunity the question gave him. “Yes, I guess there is,” he began. “I’m new at this game, no one’s ever heard of me and chances are I won’t get elected. I may not even make it through the primary. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to try as hard as I can to win and to justify Sandy’s faith in me. But the reality is that I’ll probably be going back to my law firm in September if I lose to some other Republican, or in November after the election. So I want to be certain that during this campaign I don’t do or say anything I’ll regret, that I’ll be ashamed of later on or that could hurt my firm. I understand that I may have to say some negative things about my opponent. That’s okay if he earned it by something he did that’s on the record, but I’m not going to tell any lies, or half truths or whatever you want to call them. We’re not going to do anything that anyone can call immoral or unethical. Winning doesn’t mean that much to me. I want to go as far as we can on the issues—and I believe we’re on the right side of the important ones—not on what throwing dirt at anyone will get us.”

“That’s fine, Doug. I’m all in favor of a positive campaign. Let’s just hope that whoever your opponent is feels the same way.”

Berman dropped Fiore at his downtown garage at just after ten o’clock. “I’ll stay at the Sheraton overnight and fly back to DC in the morning. Work hard on that videotape.”

Fiore assured him he would and said goodnight. As he walked toward the elevator, he remembered that he was scheduled to spend some time at the Sheraton himself that night. But Joe Gaudette’s phone call changed his plans. He hoped he could still get Carol to meet him during the week. I’d better get as much of her as I can, he thought, before things start to heat up.