September 12, 1968

“Archie, did you see this article in today’s Times?” Chauncey Delafield asked as they sat in the den of Reynolds’s Gracie Square apartment. Fall was particularly cold. Inside, the fireplace was crackling warmly, a fine cognac was in the snifters, and the Sunday Times had been dismantled into the family’s favorite sections.

“Which article, Chauncey?”

“An article about next year’s mayoralty. Seems someone has started a movement to draft J.T. Wright.”

“Let me see that.”

Dana, who had been absorbed in the Times magazine rose and stood behind her father’s large leather easy chair as he took the paper from Delafield. She read over his shoulder.

“This is very interesting,” said Reynolds, absorbed by every word in the article. Dana read silently. “He’s going to run in the Republican primary, is he?” Reynolds said to no one in particular. His face was streaked with displeasure. “Oh ho, listen to this. He says he will resign his position as deputy attorney general in order to make the run.”

“Must have someone backing him,” said Delafield. “He couldn’t be doing this on his own money.”

“Nor would he,” Dana added acidly.

“Is Joe Albanese still the Republican Chairman?” Reynolds asked.

“Just in New York County. This mayoral primary is citywide.”

“I know. But Joe is involved, isn’t he?”

“Yes, of course, Archie.”

“Fine,” Reynolds said, putting the paper down in his lap. “I want you to get in touch with Joe, find out who he’s backing.”

“It’s not Wright, I’m sure of that. Wright’s running against the regular party choice.”

“I read that,” said Reynolds. “Tell Joe Albanese that he can have as much money as he needs to help the man he’s backing.”

“Okay.”

Dana’s hand moved from her father’s shoulder to rub the back of his neck.

“But tell Joe that I want his candidate to run one hell of a campaign against Wright. If Joe doesn’t have a dynamic candidate, tell him to get one. I want Wright humuliated. Humiliated!”

“Any amount, Archie?”

“Exactly. Any amount.”