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Crenson guy have a shot at the nomination?”
    â€œNah,” I said. “Rhode Island Republicans aren’t like the ones you were used to in Oklahoma. Here, they’re mostly moderates. Besides, I hear the party brass is getting in line behind Devereaux.”
    â€œDevereaux? He’s the mayor of Woonsocket, right?”
    â€œ She is the mayor of Cranston,” I said. “You might want to bone up on mayors, too.”
    Chuckie-boy tried out his glower again. It still needed work.
    â€œAfter you cover the press conference,” he said, “I need you to get cracking on these press releases.”
    With that, he dropped a four-inch stack of mail on my desk.
    â€œNo can do, Chuck. I’ll handle the press conference, but you’ll have to find somebody else for the rest of this crap.”
    â€œAnd why is that?”
    â€œI’ve got a one o’clock sit-down with the governor.”
    â€œYou do? What for?”
    â€œBackground about some big announcement she’s making next week.”
    â€œWhat about?”
    â€œDon’t know yet,” I lied.
    â€œWell, okay, but try to bring back something we can print tomorrow. I got a daily paper to put out.”
    *   *   *
    Attila the Nun kept me stewing in a statehouse waiting room for twenty minutes before her administrative assistant ushered me into the inner sanctum. I found her sitting primly behind an antique mahogany desk flanked by American and Rhode Island state flags. She rose, waved me toward a plush velvet couch, and joined me there.
    â€œI’m disappointed,” she said. “I was hoping you were going to stroll in wearing those black-and-yellow Bruins boxers.”
    â€œI could drop my pants if you want to have a look at them.”
    â€œI better lock the door first,” she said. “It wouldn’t do to have anyone walk in on us.”
    â€œDo it,” I said. “I’ve always wanted to fool around in the governor’s office, but until now, the opportunity never came up.”
    â€œHow come?”
    â€œBecause we never had a girl governor before.”
    â€œKeep teasing me,” she said, “I might not be able to keep my hands to myself.”
    â€œLiar.”
    â€œHey, I’m a politician now. What did you expect?”
    â€œConsidering what you’re up to, I was expecting to find you in a slinky, low-cut party dress. The sort of thing the croupiers at Foxwoods wear to distract the players.”
    â€œOh, hell. You already know.”
    â€œRhode Island is a small state, Fiona. Makes it hard to keep a secret.”
    â€œWho leaked it?”
    â€œI don’t know. I heard it from a member of our criminal class who got it from his boss who got it from a mole at the statehouse.”
    â€œMuthafucka!”
    â€œSuch language from a nun.”
    â€œFormer nun. I can curse all I want now, and His Holiness can’t lay a finger on me.”
    â€œSo what’s your thinking on this?”
    â€œWhatever I tell you is embargoed until after my announcement,” she said.
    â€œI understand that.”
    â€œI’m thinking that if I don’t do something drastic, my legacy is going to be a bankrupt state pension system, more aid cuts to our failing public schools, tuition hikes at the state colleges, thousands of people thrown off Medicaid and Head Start, and the biggest budget deficit in Rhode Island history. We need revenue, Mulligan, and there’s no way I could get another tax hike through the General Assembly if I wanted to. Which I don’t.”
    â€œAnd the answer is to legalize sports betting?”
    â€œDo you know how much money Americans piss away on that every year, Mulligan?”
    â€œNo idea.”
    â€œLas Vegas casinos rake in three billion annually on March Madness and the Super Bowl alone. Which is pennies compared to the three hundred and eighty billion that’s bet illegally every year.