"So, what clever idea do you have?"
The next day, inside the White House, Truman asked.
He had indeed fired Stillman, but promoted Louis to Chief of Staff.
Yet, Truman's campaign committee was now effectively in Leo's hands.
Desmond had become chairman of Truman's campaign committee.
Daniel had become chairman of fundraising.
As for Daniel, Leo already had new plans for him—his business career had hit a bottleneck at his age.
Leo decided to send him through the revolving door.
Meanwhile, Charlie had been transferred from the West to serve as CFO of American Realty Group.
Faced with Truman's question, Leo glanced at Louis standing nearby.
Ancient wisdom reminded Leo: If a ruler cannot keep secrets, he loses his ministers. If a minister cannot keep secrets, he loses his life.
Once he revealed his campaign strategy, opponents could immediately tailor a counterplan against him.
Truman sensed Leo's caution. He explained:
"Louis has been with me since my Kansas days. If even he can't be trusted, then I have nothing more to say."
Seeing Truman's insistence, Leo shrugged, then turned to a blackboard and wrote two dates:
July 12: the Democratic National Convention in Philadelphia.
November 2: the U.S. general election.
"Harry, this campaign of yours must revolve entirely around these two dates.
Before the Democratic Convention, the task is to feign weakness and patch vulnerabilities.
After the convention and before the election—it's high-profile appearances and new opportunities."
"Feign weakness? Patch vulnerabilities? High-profile appearances?"
Truman asked doubtfully.
"Harry, in your view, where do your opponents most often strike you? Where are your biggest vulnerabilities?" Leo asked.
Truman's face stiffened—he knew he was riddled with weaknesses. Embarrassed, he asked:
"Can all of them really be fixed?"
Leo smiled with confidence:
"Focus on the major ones, let go of the minor. And patching vulnerabilities doesn't always mean fixing yourself. You can also expose that the enemy has the very same flaws—dragging you both to the same level. Then your flaws won't count as flaws."
Truman's eyes lit up. "For example?"
"For example—Wallace split off Democrats who could've been yours. Since that's the case, we can create trouble for Dewey too. From what I know, Ohio's Taft family still intends to run for president. They lack neither prestige nor influence—all they need is funding. And I can provide that."
Truman clapped his hands—he had never seen vulnerabilities patched this way.
"And what about Douglas? With James backing him in the primaries, I could lose before the election even begins."
Leo replied confidently:
"Last night, I compiled Douglas's entire file. His fatal flaw—he's over seventy. Who will trust a fading old man to rule a rising empire? And beyond politics, I have personal and family strategies to persuade him. Don't worry—before the convention, Douglas will withdraw."
"Alright. I trust you."
After a pause, Truman raised a third concern:
"Both chambers are controlled by Republicans. I'm nothing more than a clay puppet of a president. They'll attack me relentlessly for doing nothing."
"That's a huge weakness, but ironically, the easiest to fix. During the midterms, Republicans made countless promises to the people. Now they control Congress. You can use their spear against their shield.
Publicly declare, even propose bills yourself, saying: Every policy Republicans promised, I fully support. If Congress passes it, I'll sign it immediately as president.
This traps them. We both know they won't give you, a Democratic president, the credit for their achievements. They'll hold out for Dewey. Which means they'll be forced to stall their own promises."
Louis, standing behind Truman, bristled and interrupted:
"But if they do pass them, won't that play right into Republican hands?"
Before Leo could answer, Truman glared at Louis:
"So what? People will only remember it was President Truman who signed those bills. During the election, I'll gain immense prestige. It's a flawless move.
Leo, no matter how highly I think of you, you always prove I still underestimate you. From this moment, I grant you full authority over my entire campaign. Everyone, every resource—under your command. Including me."
The White House discussions lasted from morning until deep into the night.
By the end, everyone was exhausted, yet their eyes shone with hope.
Compared to his old advisors, Truman now saw how clear, practical, and reliable Leo truly was.
At a French restaurant near Washington's Dupont Circle, Leo sat across from Robert Taft.
"Sir, believe my sincerity. As long as you make a public announcement, tomorrow three million dollars will enter your campaign account. No audit. Spend it however you like."
Robert remained calm. "My family may not be as wealthy as you, but raising three million isn't an issue. If you join the Republican Party, with the Tafts as your sponsors, tomorrow I'll declare my candidacy."
The Taft family was in decline, and Robert knew it—especially with the rift between him and his brother. But decline could be slowed, if they brought in a new patron. Sponsoring a billionaire into the party would bind Leo and the Tafts together in politics.
Leo understood Robert's motive perfectly. But he couldn't support Taft—he was already committed to Truman. Besides, Taft's awkward place in the GOP was even weaker than Truman's in the Democrats.
When persuading someone, target their true need. Robert thought his weakness was lack of donors. But Leo knew he had another: his son.
"If I recall, Rick turned twenty-five this year. What position have you arranged for him?"
Robert hesitated. "Assistant prosecutor at the Cleveland District Court."
For most, that would be a lifetime achievement. But for the heir of a political dynasty, starting in Cleveland instead of Columbus showed the family's waning grip on Ohio.
Robert quickly realized Leo was angling with his son's future. Between family prestige and his boy, Robert chose quickly. He extended a finger toward Leo:
"Speak plainly, Leo. What do you want?"
"You can ask Rick yourself. My ally Daniel is the same age as him—and he's already head of fundraising for Truman's campaign. You know what that means.
Maybe Rick won't become Secretary of the Treasury, but he could easily be Secretary-General of the Fiscal Council, or even a senior officer at the UN's finance bureau.
This is a land of opportunity. Rick deserves more. For example, president of American Realty's Ohio branch—that suits my ally. And when Truman takes office again, I'll place Rick in the new government. Or even as a deputy envoy to some small country."
The moment Leo finished, Robert seized his hand:
"Contact your press. Tomorrow I'll announce my candidacy."
The 1948 election was destined to be spectacular. After Wallace's betrayal split the Democrats, Dewey—championed by a unified GOP—was suddenly challenged from within.
The exposé came from The World Journal, and the American press exploded.
One win against Wallace might've been luck. Two in a row meant power. Now, even Capitol Hill grandees ordered their secretaries to buy a copy of The World Journal every morning.
The tabloid once famous for UFO stories had, with two thunderous political scoops, broken through the media blockade and become a serious political-economic paper.
Leo's blow threw Republicans into chaos.
Walter of Citibank, a Dewey supporter, urgently called the Stillman family.
John Stillman—recently ousted by Truman—had been entrusted to manage the family's election efforts. Hating Truman, he had placed all hope on Dewey.
But now, the GOP itself was faltering. Furious, John barked into the phone at their liaison:
"What the hell is the Taft family doing? Who authorized this betrayal?"
After a long silence, came the answer:
"You'll see in tomorrow's news. His brother will denounce him."
"Be careful with Leo—he's bound himself tightly to Truman. Never underestimate a billionaire. This is only his opening move."
"Relax. He's only one billionaire. We have plenty. Dewey polls at sixty percent. Truman's at twenty-six. We hold the advantage."
John calmed—everyone believed Dewey's victory was inevitable. Even bar patrons joked about it. Who could imagine Truman winning?
Still, John warned Walter:
"Even if Truman can't win, I won't let Leo meddle with us. Head South. American Realty has plenty of enemies there. Stir up trouble—don't let him sit idle."
Walter set off immediately. But before he reached the South, Leo's second move—the "inescapable stratagem"—landed.
When Truman finished his speech to Congress, the chamber fell into stunned silence. Republicans stared, dumbfounded.
What did he mean—any proposal that benefits the American people, I'll sign?
What did he mean—if both chambers pass it, I'll approve it immediately?
Since when was the president so agreeable?
Some, however, quickly grasped the trap.
Michigan Senator Arthur Vandenberg hurried to James Roosevelt.
"If you still want Truman to lose, block our proposals."
"Impossible. That'd be like dumping filth on our own party. Even if I agreed, most wouldn't. It's political suicide."
James was exasperated by Truman's ploy, but he couldn't agree to Arthur's plan.
"Then we silence it. Suppress the news so his words never leave the White House. Otherwise, once voters hear, we'll be crushed."
James frowned, then nodded. "Agreed. But The World Journal belongs to Leo. He won't silence it."
"It's just one paper. Barely sells a hundred thousand nationwide. Block it where we can, and smear it where we can't."
James approved the scheme.
But the very next day, Truman's words spread across every street in America.
Voters flooded their representatives with demands.
Bang! James slammed his desk, shouting at his secretary:
"Didn't you warn the papers?"
"I did, sir. None of the major papers ran it."
"Then how do people know?"
The secretary handed him a ragged paper. "Do you know The New Post, sir?"
James stared—cheap material, blurry photos, crude language—an outlet for the working class. But its headline simplified Truman's speech, urging readers to demand their representatives act now.
"Just one trash paper—surely it can't cause such a stir? Warn them. If they don't listen, shut them down."
The secretary shook his head and pulled out more: The Hope Post of Ohio, The Bright Times of Virginia, The Kansas Street Paper… A mountain of near-identical rags.
James paled. "Are you saying… these are all from the same hand?"
"Yes, sir. I called friends in the West too—same there, just different names."
James collapsed into his chair. "Is it Leo Valentino?"
The nod confirmed it.
"How are sales?" James asked, clinging to hope.
"Extremely strong. Especially among young people. Nearly everyone has a copy."
It was over. Truman now had a direct voice to the masses. Worse, Leo had built, right under their noses, a nationwide press empire.
The phone rang. "Senator Vandenberg, sir."
James sighed. "Tell him I can't shut down a billionaire's national press network. Republicans will have to deal with Truman themselves. I have my own troubles."
He knew—Truman's maneuver would gag Republicans, but also rally wavering Democrats back to him. Exactly the opposite of what James wanted.
But events wouldn't wait. With his new press network, Truman spoke daily:
Yesterday—questioning Republicans: Where are your midterm promises?
Today—calling: People, push harder. I'm ready to sign.
Tomorrow—attacking GOP hypocrisy: Even their own proposals, they won't honor.
As Republicans struggled to respond, Leo struck again.
Thomas submitted bills identical to the Republicans' old midterm promises—this time under Democratic sponsorship.
The headline in The World Journal read:
"It's Time to See the Republicans' True Face."