Murder and the First Lady [antikvár]

1The elevator doors opened. The President of the United States, with quick, powerful thrusts of his arms and shoulders, rolled his wood-and-steel wheelchair out of the elevator and into the second-floor center hall of the White House."Who's home?" he boomed exuberantly.Followed by his black valet but propelling the wheelchair himself, he rolled west edong the corridor, into the private sitting room. When he turned and looked back, he could see the length of the long corridor, all the way past the Lincoln Bedroom to the window at the east end of the house. He could see Missy comingMarguerite LeHand, who had been his personal and private secretary for almost twenty years. She hurried along the corridor toward the sitting room, a handsome woman wearing high heels and a form-fitting blue dress. She smiled as her eyes caught his."Everything is ready, Mr. President," said the valet as he pushed the wheeled cocktail table close. "The ice. Chilled glasses ""Oh, that's marvelous, Arthur," said the President. "Thank you. See who's around, will you?"The valet stood aside'at the door as Missy entered, then hurried off down the corridor. Missy walked to the Presi-