Midnight Visitor (PJW)

"Midnight Visitor" is an excerpt from the historical fiction novel An End to Autumn written by George R.R. Martin. End and its prequels and sequels are considered to be supremely historically accurate; while not representing the exact words that occurred in history, they are considered to be incredibly close to the truth.

Wilbur
Wilbur's head was throbbing as he awoke. Where am I? he wondered as tried to remember the night's events. Seemingly moments ago he was speeding through downtown Washington DC, accompanied by that Argentinian stripper...but now he was in a jail cell?

Ah, yes, he remembered now. Late night, fresh from the club with Fanne Foxe, too drunk to drive, but when has that ever stopped Arkansas's favorite politician? Mills had served the House since 1939, 33 years ago, and now he was their Speaker. He could afford, no, he should be allowed, to have some fun once in a while. Unfortunately the capital's police failed to think the same way. An officer had pulled the representative over. 46 miles over the speed limit, the officer said, as he peered into the car window. The officer gasped when he saw Wilbur's battered face; little did he know Foxe had gotten a bit rough and the two had an altercation.

Foxe had screamed when the cop asked the two of them to step out of the car. She sprinted away, to where, Wilbur had no idea. From then on, Wilbur had no memory; he must have passed out soon afterwards. And now he found himself in a Washington jail cell.

A thousand questions were racing through Wilbur's mind. Was his presidential campaign over? Hell, what about his political career? Wilbur remembered how quickly Rockefeller fell back in the sixties when his affair was discovered. Would Wilbur be next?

His train of thought was interrupted by the screech of a door. An officer and a trench coach clad figure walked down the hallway. "Here he is," the officer said, pointing at Wilbur through the bars.

The other man nodded. "Leave us," he commanded, and the officer left the way he came.

The man squatted, to reach eye level with the sprawled Wilbur. "You're a bit too drunk to be driving, Wilbur," the man said with a small laugh. The jail light illuminated the man's young face, and Wilbur realized who he was talking to.

"Well, I'll be damned. Hot Tub Tom!" Wilbur laughed. "Too drunk to drive? How many beers have you had before meeting me here?" Tom Delay's alcoholism was well known throughout the capital.

"I'm quite sober, actually. This meeting is very important. Far more important than you might think."

"Is this about the presidency?" Wilbur asked, suddenly angry. "Come to gloat about how in the morning the press will be all over this, how Mills campaign has been tanked, how the Republicans, despite the impeachment of their president, will win once again?"

"Like I said. Far from that," Delay had responded, confusing the representative. "Nixon's impeachment is inevitable. We all know it. Every Republican, from Alaska to Maine, is counting down the days, preparing their statements, their responses. It's going to be a tough blow to our chances this fall, no doubt.

But I'm not here to talk about that. I'm here to talk about you."

Delay suddenly stood up, pulling out a cigarette from beneath his trench coat. ''If they haven't come to gloat, what do they want with me? ''

"I know you're one of Nixon's stooges," Wilbur said, trying to taunt Delay. "One of the Plumbers. Yeah, that's what they call you. Once he falls, you'll fall too." Wilbur found his taunt had no effect, as Delay calmly exhaled a ring of smoke.

"Few men know that. Not most. Colson, Liddy, they'll serve time. I'll be fine.

"And don't try to talk about morals, Wilbur. The little game you're playing in the senate, blocking Carlucci's appointment? It's a power play and you know it."

"That appointment is unlawful!" Wilbur protested. "By appointing a vice president now, Nixon is essentially picking the next president, with no input from the voters. It goes against the spirit of democracy!"

"Spirit of democracy, or your own ascension to the Oval Office? Nixon gets impeached...you'll be president and you know that."

"I have no desire for personal power. I'm here to serve." Yet, Wilbur's mind thought of the power the president would possess. No cop would dare pull him over for having fun.

"Whether you speak the truth or not, I'm here to send a message to you about this blocking nonsense.

You are going to continue blocking the appointment."

"...what?" was all Wilbur could muster. "Delay why you ever want that?" It made no sense. Blocking the appointment? It would deny the Republicans the White House, especially as election time closed in.

"My wants are not of importance. It's what my higher-ups want. Wilbur, I'm offering a good deal, one that might save your presidential campaign. One that might save your presidency. Tonight? Tonight never happened. We'll release you, mouths will be shut, papers removed - tonight there was no arrest. No Foxe. Nothing.

All you have to do is continue to block the appointment."

The gears spun in Wilbur's head for a moment. All it took was a vision of the chair in the Oval Office to decide. "I'll do it."

"Good. I knew you would." With that, Delay turned around. "I'll send the officer over to release you. We'll have a car waiting outside to drive you home."

As Delay reached for the hallway door handle, a question suddenly sprung in Wilbur's mind. "Delay, what happened to Foxe? How are you gonna keep her quiet?"

Delay laughed as he rubbed the cigarette out in an ashtray. "When we learned of your arrest a few of my fellow associates and I were sent out. We found Foxe before the DC police did. She tried to flee by jumping into the Tidal Basin."

"How are you keeping her quiet? She's got a big mouth."

"Have you seen The Godfather yet, Wilbur? Great movie, just came out." When Wilbur nodded yes, Delay continued. "Well, let's just say Foxe jumped into the river, and now she sleeps with the fishes."