"That’s good."
"In Washington, greed is a more reliable motivator than ideals."
The official business was concluded.
Normally, the call would have ended there.
But Sanders didn’t hang up.
"One more question, young man."
Sanders’s voice suddenly beca a little distant.
"You’re causing such a stir."
"You’ve pushed John onto the battlefield of the Senate, not even hesitating to offend the party’s top brass."
"You’ve hitched my wagon to yours, making spend my political capital for your plan."
"You’re also planning to take on an oligarch like Morganfield."
"You’re doing all this for more than just being a good Mayor, aren’t you?"
Sanders’s tone suddenly grew sharp.
"What about you?"
"What do you want?"
"A higher office? Do you want to go to Harrisburg and be governor? Or co to Washington and join Congress?"
"Tell your ambition, Leo."
"I need to know just what kind of ally I’m backing."
This was an extrely dangerous question.
If Leo showed too much ambition, revealing that he also saw Pittsburgh as a stepping stone to Harrisburg or even Washington, Sanders would beco wary.
But if Leo flatly denied it and packaged himself as a selfless, devoted saint, Sanders would believe him even less.
In a room full of deals, soone who claims to want nothing in return is often either plotting sothing ulterior or is simply an untrustworthy liar.
He had to walk a fine line.
He had to display a desire sufficient to command the situation, while also proving that this desire was strictly confined within the borders of Pittsburgh.
Murphy watched Leo nervously from the side, frantically trying to catch his eye to signal him to answer carefully.
Leo looked up.
He gazed out the window.
Outside was the Pittsburgh sky, the factory smokestacks puffing white smoke in the distance, and the old, terraced neighborhoods built into the hills.
He saw the pothole-ridden Grant Street.
He rembered the old janitor who had steadied him in the cold wind.
He rembered Margaret’s battered wheelchair and the doorstep that had blocked her way.
"Senator."
Leo drew his gaze back, his tone calm and sincere as he spoke into the phone.
In that mont, all he had left was an almost rustic honesty.
"I’m not going anywhere."
"I don’t want to be governor, and I don’t want to go to Washington."
"The red carpets there are too soft. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to keep my footing."
"I just want to get this money."
"I just want to fix this damn city."
Leo’s voice was soft, but exceptionally firm.
"I want the wife of the janitor who broke his leg to get the compensation she deserves, so she no longer has to worry about dical bills."
"I want the elderly in the Hill District who have no heating to be able to sleep soundly this winter."
"I want the unemployed steelworkers to be able to hold their heads high again, to support their families with their labor."
"I want to fill in those thousands of potholes."
"That’s all."
Silence on the other end of the line.
Sanders had t countless people.
He had heard countless politicians pledge their loyalty and talk about their ideals in front of him.
But Leo’s words gave him a sense of authenticity he hadn’t felt in a long ti.
’A perfect answer.’
Roosevelt’s voice, tinged with a hint of a smile, echoed in Leo’s mind.
’In front of an ambitious man, acting like a pure builder is the best camouflage.’
’It will make him feel safe, and it will also earn his admiration.’
’In this circle, pure-hearted people are rarer than clever ones.’
Finally, Sanders’s voice ca through again.
This ti, it carried the care and commitnt of an elder for a junior.
"Good."
"Since you want to fix this city."
"Then I’ll hand you the bricks."
"It seems the City Council can’t stop you anymore. I’ll be waiting for your good news."
"Tell John to get his suit ready. I want to see him in Washington tomorrow."
"BEEP—"
The line went dead.
Leo put down the receiver, his palm slightly damp.
He looked at Murphy.
Murphy was staring at him as if he were looking at so kind of monster.
"Was that an act just now?" Murphy asked. "Or were you serious?"
Leo just smiled and didn’t answer.
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