Balance of Power

    Before answering, the President seemed to inhale, suggesting to Sarah a patient man whose patience was being tried. "I called the District Attorney, made sure the police took away Bowden's guns, and monitored the issuance of a restraining order. When his threats persisted, I saw to it that the police searched his apartment yet again, and hired private security people to protect both Joan and Marie." Briefly, the President paused. "For my pains, the Chronicle contacted my press secretary, demanding to know whether I was using 'special influence' on their behalf."

    "And that's why you and the First Lady chose to expose Bowden as a batterer on ABC?"

    "Chose?" Kilcannon considered Nolan with muted disdain. "You can't be expected to appreciate this, Mr. Nolan. But in dealing with the media, a President's choices are often limited. Faced with the prospect that the Chronicle would string this out, we decided the better course was to get it over with."

    "Whose interest did

that serve?"

    The President stared at him. "Joan's, I thought. Unless we got this out, the media would have hounded her for days. As well as Bowden."

    Nolan tilted his head in an attitude of skepticism. "With respect, Mr. President, wasn't one of your concerns to put your role in this matter in its most appealing light?"

    A faint smile did nothing to diminish the new hardness in Kilcannon's clear blue eyes. "With respect, Mr. Nolan, that question is beneath contempt."

    Nolan sat back. After a moment, he said, "Whatever your emotions, sir, I'd appreciate an answer."

    The smile lingered. "What about my previous answer did you fail to understand?"

    Lenihan emitted a short, sardonic laugh. Hearing this, Nolan froze, but did not look toward Lenihan. Sitting beside the President, Avram Gold—clearly under instructions not to intervene—raised his eyebrows at Nolan as if to ask what he'd expected. Unable to resist, he inquired, "Would you like the reporter to read the answer back?"

    Scowling, Nolan checked his watch, as though to indicate that any attenuation of the deposition was Kilcannon's own doing. Then, wisely, he gave up on the question altogether.

    "In giving the interview, Mr. President, didn't you consider that you might inflame Mr. Bowden to violence?"

    "To the ultimate violence? I couldn't know. I was certain he'd not only be inflamed, but humiliated. But no more than he would have been by a story in a hometown paper with a circulation of a million, which then would have been picked up by every national and local media outlet in America . . ."

    "Given that, did you take additional measures to protect Joan and Marie?"

    "They were with us at the time, under the protection of the Secret Service. What I did do was make sure that the private security firm which we'd hired to watch Joan's home also met them at the airport." The President paused, and his voice became soft with regret. "What I failed to consider was that your client's advertisement would induce Bowden to travel to a gun show in Las Vegas, where a convicted spousal abuser could acquire a Lexington P-2 and Eagle's Claw bullets. And that those at risk included Lara's mother."

    This stopped Nolan. For a moment, he seemed undecided as to his course. Then, from a folder to his right, he slid a copy of a document with the jagged scrawl Sarah knew at once to be John Bowden's.

    As she watched, appalled, Nolan asked the reporter to mark the paper as "Kilcannon Exhibit One," and then slid it in front of the President. "Can you identify this document?"

    Gazing at Bowden's words on paper, Kilcannon seemed to pale. "It's a letter from John Bowden. The contents speak for themselves."

    "In that John Bowden blames you for the murder he intends to commit?"

    "Yes."

    "Given this, would you still have exposed him before an audience of roughly forty million people?"

    The President drew a breath, still gazing at the fateful words. "There isn't any aspect of what I did," he answered softly, "that I don't question every day. And will, every day for the rest of my life. But I truly believe I did everything I could to protect Lara's family—including disarm John Bowden." Pausing, the President looked up at last. "But there was no way, Mr. Nolan, to completely protect them from your client."

    Briefly, Nolan seemed taken aback. Then, with a rising undertone of anger, he asked, "Isn't it true, Mr. President, that you're attempting to blame Lexington Arms for your own decision to provoke a man who you knew was prone to violence?"