Читать книгу The Last President - Michael Kurland - Страница 4

PROLOGUE

FRIDAY, JUNE 16, 1972

Edward St. Yves put down his binoculars and picked up the phone. He dialed a very private number.

“Yes?” a guarded voice answered.

“This is Barkley,” St. Yves said.

“Yes?”

“I’m calling you from the Howard Johnson’s motel across the street from the Watergate complex.”

“I understand.”

“Our men have just come into contact with the local people,” St. Yves said.

“Yes? How serious?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to clean up here and see what I can do,” St. Yves said. “Be prepared for a phone call.”

“Me?”

“It may come to that. This must be stopped now. You understand? I’m calling the Company, but they may want someone at the top to verify.”

“Okay. Do what you have to. The big man is here. I’ll tell him.”

“He’ll be delighted,” St. Yves said, and hung up.