Balance of Power

    The words "Mr. President," Sarah noted, were spoken with a slighting emphasis which suggested that Kerry Kilcannon did not deserve the office. "No," Kilcannon answered in a cold but even tone. "I'm blaming Lexington for its own decision to market uniquely lethal weapons to criminals and wife-beaters. I blame Lexington for its failure—even after this tragedy took three members of Lara's family and three members of other families—to lift a finger to keep still more deaths from happening. Or do anything at all, it seems, except to hire you to deflect their blame onto what remains of a family still grieving for our losses.

    "That's why you've brought me here—despite the fact, which you occasionally seem to recognize, that I am the President and, as such, somewhat busy. Perhaps even busier than the President of Lexington Arms. Nonetheless, I'm answering your questions. So where, I have to wonder, is Mr. Callister?

    "I haven't heard from him. He hasn't been seen. In fact, Professor Gold tells me that you're refusing to produce him for a deposition. What are you afraid of, Mr. Nolan? That the experience will be insuffi ciently congenial for him? Please assure him for me that he'll be treated with respect."

    Watching, Sarah felt a deep surge of satisfaction, both because the President had, at last, retaliated and because he had so pointedly contrasted his own availability with Callister's. Were she John Nolan, Sarah thought, she would burn the videotape before anyone could see it.

    This seemed to have occurred to him. Staring at the President, Nolan shed the last veneer of courtesy. "Isn't it true," he asked in a hectoring tone, "that Mr. Callister refused your demands to change Lexington's marketing practices?"

    "No, it isn't true," Kilcannon answered calmly. "But he did decline my request in that regard. Both before and after the murders."

    "And it's also true, is it not, that you blame the SSA for Congress's failure to enact the kind of gun laws you think should exist?"

    "In some measure, yes. I also blame myself for failing to get them enacted. I'm trying to rectify that."

    "In fact," Nolan pressed, "isn't this lawsuit part of an effort to do that?"

    "Whose effort? I'm not a party. And if anything tarnishes your client, it will be the facts you seem to be trying to suppress . . ."

    "Isn't," Nolan snapped, "Mary Costello conducting this lawsuit at your direction?"

    "Mary," Kilcannon answered, "has never talked with me about this lawsuit."

    Nolan scowled in disbelief. "Have you discussed it with Ms. Dash?"

    Briefly, the President glanced in Sarah's direction. "I admire Ms. Dash's work. But I've never spoken to her before this morning."

    "But you do know Mr. Lenihan. And have for some time."

    "True."

    "In fact, he's your leading supporter."

    "I try to encourage a little competition for that title. But he's certainly been supportive."

    "And have you discussed this lawsuit with Mr. Lenihan?"

    "Once. Shortly after the murders, he asked me if Mary might require representation. I replied that, if she did, I couldn't think of anyone better. Nothing more was said. Sometime thereafter, I learned that Mary had engaged Mr. Lenihan as cocounsel."

    "Do you know how Mary Costello came to engage Ms. Dash?"

    The President shrugged. "I think Lara may have suggested it. What did Mary say?"

    Frustrated, Nolan renewed his attack. "Did you discuss Ms. Dash's engagement with the First Lady?"

    The President sat straighter, looking straight at Nolan. "Lara's my wife, Mr. Nolan. Three of her family members were slaughtered. You can fairly surmise that, from time to time, the subject comes up—even, on occasion, Mary's lawsuit. In fact, we may even discuss this deposition over dinner. But that's not for you to know."

    "Are you refusing to answer?"

    At this, Avram Gold began to speak. Gently, the President placed a hand on his wrist. "Lara and I may be public figures," he told Nolan. "But we have the same privilege of privacy between us as any other couple . . ."

    "Are you," Nolan cut in, "directing this lawsuit through Mrs. Kilcannon?"

    " 'Directing'? No. That's the job of the lawyers, I would have thought."

    "Then you can clear all this up, Mr. President, by telling me whether you're using your wife as a conduit for your instructions to Mary Costello and her attorneys . . ."

    "There's about to be some 'directing' done," Avram Gold interjected. "By me. By asking your last question you're trying to get the President to waive the marital privilege, now and in the future. I'm directing the President not to answer any questions about his private marital communications with the First Lady. That's the law, and it's also a matter of simple decency. It's a shame that I have to remind you of either."

    "Are you," Nolan demanded of Kilcannon, "refusing to answer my question?"

    "Yes." The President's faint smile returned. "Out of respect for Professor Gold. And, of course, my wife."