26

JENNA RICHARDSON WAS BORED. Nothing of any interest was happening on the political scene. She had done telephone interviews with Nancy Williston and Michael Droney, the two incumbent members of Congress from Rhode Island. Both indicated earlier through their offices that they would be seeking reelection. They would formally announce their candidacies, they told her, after Spence Hardiman declared his. “Protocol, you know,” each said.

She also tried to get some leads on who might be coming forward to try and unseat them. The Republican and Democratic Committees did what they could to be helpful. They gave her the names of those local lawmakers who showed some interest in running statewide for Congress, and she dutifully followed up with phone calls.

But as several contacts in the Statehouse had enlightened her, “Things are different today, Jenna. It’s not like before, when you served one or two terms in the House or Senate in Rhode Island, or at least you’d been a mayor for a while before you tried to step up and become a ‘US Rep.’ Now, anyone who’s successful can decide to try and get elected. It doesn’t matter whether it’s a lawyer or some nobody running a restaurant. All it takes is money to have a shot at the job. Just look at who ran for governor last time. Sacco against McGurty. Neither of those two guys was serving in the legislature when they got in the race.”

Richardson was beginning to think that she assumed too much about those books she saw on John Sacco’s desk. And since Spence Hardiman never spoke to her prior to that telephone call, maybe he was just being a little cautious when he took his time before answering her question. She knew McMurphy was right about not speculating in print that Hardiman wouldn’t be going for a second term, not without some reliable source for the information. Otherwise, it could have caused a lot of embarrassment in different places. Still, she had always pushed ahead on what her gut told her. She believed in what she saw and what she heard, whether anyone else did or not. If there was a place she could go and put down a few dollars on Hardiman not running again, she would do it.

At two o’clock Jenna phoned the Herald newsroom to let McMurphy know what her story would be about that day. There was a surprise waiting.

“Get some background material on Hardiman ready because he’s in Providence to make an announcement. They’ve called a press conference for four o’clock at his office in the Courthouse.”

“I’ll get right on it,” she said.

“Now we’ll see what kind of a swami you are, Jen.”

“Five dollars says he bows out,” she countered quickly. “Even money, Dan.”

“Uh, uh, since you’re so sure of yourself, my five to your ten,” he answered.

“You’re on, sucker.”