LUKE HEADED BACK TOWARD THE MAIN ENTRANCE AND THE Great Hall. The folks remaining in the Common Room had determined that glass was now everywhere on the floor, caution being advised, so he’d used that momentary distraction to slip away, finding his way through the dark.
His crotch ached, but the pain had eased.
No matter, he wasn’t going to allow Cassiopeia Vitt to get away. He’d never hear the end of it from Malone or Stephanie, especially after the old-timer had warned him. He turned a corner and felt his way along the wall to the short flight of steps that led up to the entrance foyer.
He heard the front door open, then close.
Was that her?
It made sense.
So he headed for the exit.
He opened the door and stepped outside.
Ahead he saw nothing.
Then he caught a glimpse of Cassiopeia Vitt, near the house wall, turning a corner, heading back toward its rear. This time he provided her no warning, but said into the mike, “She’s coming your way, Pappy.”
Then he followed.
FIFTY-SEVEN
RICHARD NIXON ENTERED THE CONFERENCE ROOM AND SHOOK hands with the Prophet Joseph Fielding Smith, his two counselors, and all of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. The president of the United States had come to Salt Lake campaigning for local Republican candidates in the congressional midterm elections. He’d brought his wife, daughter Tricia, and two cabinet members—George Romney and David Kennedy—who were both Saints. The customary public appearances had all been made, and now they were safe inside the church’s main administrative building, behind closed doors, paneled walls and a coffered wood ceiling enclosing them. Nixon and Smith sat at one end of a polished table, the rest of the apostles occupying its sides.
“I’ve always found my visits to Salt Lake City to be extremely heartwarming,” Nixon said. “Your church is a great institution that has played a part in this administration.”
The date was July 24, 1970. Pioneer Day. An official Utah state holiday, designated to commemorate the entry, in 1847, of the first wave of people to the Salt Lake basin. Parades, fireworks, rodeos, and other festivities traditionally marked the day. Like July 4 for Latter-day Saints. Later, Nixon himself was scheduled to attend the famous Days of ’47 Rodeo at the Salt Palace.
“I don’t know of any group in America that has contributed more to our strong moral leadership and high moral standards—the spirit that has kept America going through bad times as well as good times. No group has done more than those who are members of this church.”
“Why are you here?” Smith asked.
Nixon seemed taken aback by the abruptness of the question. “I just told you. I came to offer my praise.”
“Mr. President, you personally requested this private audience with myself, my counselors, and the Quorum of Twelve. No president has ever asked that of us before. Surely you have to understand why we would be curious. So here we are. Just us. What is it you want?”
Smith, though a consummate gentleman, was no fool. He was the tenth prophet to lead the church, his father had been the sixth, and his grandfather had been the brother of founder Joseph Smith. He became an apostle in 1910, at age twenty-five, and had only six months back been elevated to prophet at the age of ninety-four, the oldest man ever selected. He was the only one in the room who’d actually been present when the temple in Salt Lake had been dedicated in 1893.
He bowed to no one.
Not even presidents of the United States.
Nixon’s face changed, shifting from a countenance of congeniality to one of a man on a mission. “All right. I like directness. Saves time. Something was given to you in 1863 by Abraham Lincoln, something you never returned. I want it back.”
“Why is that?” Smith asked.
“Because it belongs to the United States.”
“Yet it was given to us for safekeeping.”
Nixon studied the men around the table. “I see you know what I’m talking about. Good. That’ll make this simpler.”
Smith pointed a wizened finger at the president. “You have no idea what it says, do you?”
“I know that it caused Lincoln great anguish. I know that he sent it away for a reason. I know that, as part of the bargain, Brigham Young provided Lincoln with the location of a mine, one that people have sought for a long time. A place where a lot of your gold may be hidden away, gold lost during the Mormon War when 22 wagons disappeared.”
“None of that gold was lost,” one of the apostles said. “Not one ounce. All of it was reintroduced into our economy, after the threat of war from the federal government waned. Prophet Brigham made sure that happened. There is no mystery there.”