Balance of Power

    Once more they met in Kelsey Landon's office. A benign and calming presence, Landon sat in an antique wing chair, Dane and Fasano in matching chairs of polished mahogany. "Whatever you propose," Dane answered, "should be consistent with our message—that the problem isn't guns, it's the violence and permissiveness in our popular culture."

    "Scotty Morris," Fasano countered sardonically, "wasn't murdered with a VCR. I don't know about your culture, Charles. But in mine Chuck Hampton's scoring points."

    "So take the moral offensive, for Godsakes. Even Lara Kilcannon admits that our movies, TV and pop music are rotten to the core. You should treat yourself to a few gangster rap lyrics about beating women and killing cops . . ."

    "I despise that trash," Fasano cut in. "Bernadette and I won't let our kids get near it. So now that we agree on that, let's talk about the U.S. Senate."

    Brightly, Landon interjected, "I believe that Charles has a proposal, Frank."

    "A law," Dane said promptly. "Establishing a commission to study the effect of violence on American youth; requiring V-chips in all TVs so parents can control what children are watching; and setting up a rating system for TV programs, compact discs, music videos, and movie rentals for children below eighteen. How can our society glamorize violence, Frank—even use it to thrill our young people until it's second nature—and then blame America's gun companies for the sickness in our society?"

    At this, Fasano began to laugh. "Maybe because some of the gun companies market their own videos showing kids how to use their guns." Turning to Landon, he said, "Skip the fact that this is eyewash, Kelsey. Tell Charles about the entertainment and communications lobby, and why the Senate's collective piety will never be enacted into law."

    As well-paid go-between, Landon was too discreet to share Fasano's amusement. "What is it you need, Frank?"

    "Something—at a minimum—that addresses the so-called gun-show loophole."

    For a brief moment, Dane seemed to reflect. "Then let me suggest this," he answered, and Fasano knew at once that his opening proposal was a ploy.

    " 'Gun show,' " Dane continued, "is an elastic term. We can redefine it to exclude outdoors shows, hunting and fishing shows, and other shows where guns just happen to be sold . . ."

    "A loophole within a loophole," Fasano interjected dryly.

    Impervious, Dane went on. "Gun shows occur on a weekend. Applying a seventy-two-hour background check would unfairly impede their business. Instead, we'll require that any background check at gun shows be completed within minutes . . ."

    "That's impossible," Fasano interrupted. "We don't have the database, or the technology. But I suppose that's the point."

    Dane chose not to answer. "Our bill," he continued, "would only become applicable to gun shows when ninety-nine percent of all records regarding felonies, violent misdemeanors, and domestic violence are entered into the system."

    Fasano glanced at Landon, who listened without expression, and then back at Dane. "You recall Kilcannon's speech, I suppose. He pointed out that the records are nowhere near that, and proposed to allocate millions to fixing it. How much do you propose to allocate?"

    "Zero," Dane answered calmly. "That's for the states to fund."

    Fasano paused, reining in his irritation. "In the Senate," he observed, "we hold cynicism to a certain standard. In its higher forms it's not quite so transparent."

    Dane folded his arms. "Your moderates and Yankees can vote for this, and not be punished. We'll even help you by objecting to it. If your goal is to help us, and keep your Cassie Rollinses in line, that should be enough for you."

    "What's enough for me," Fasano snapped, "is something more than transcendent bullshit.

    "Give me your proposal, Charles. And I'll tell our staffers to add some things you actually don't like, such as some money to fund this instant background check of guns. Then you can oppose it with more sincerity."

    "If you pass it," Dane objected, "it could look like we're losing power."

    Turning to Landon, Fasano said in his weariest tone, "I imagine, Kelsey, that you've followed my train of thought."

    "I believe so," Landon answered, and then faced Dane again. "You want Frank to push through tort reform, immunizing Lexington and you, while he stalls Kilcannon's gun bill until public sentiment cools off. What Frank's saying to you, Charles, is that Kilcannon and Hampton are making that more difficult. So he needs another element . . ."

    "Specifically," Fasano interjected, "a gun safety law of our own. Something plausible enough for our moderates to vote for, but which doesn't give Kilcannon anything close to what he wants.

    "If we come up with a suitable bill, I'll schedule it ahead of the vote on tort reform. That will give our moderates some real cover, and make gun immunity an easier vote. And once Kilcannon vetoes it, we can claim he's an extremist."

    To Fasano, Dane looked both dubious and intrigued. "And if he doesn't?"