Balance of Power

    "In a word—yes." Lenihan's own smile was knowing. "A fortuitous by-product of 'making gentle the life of the world.' "

    Lenihan was no fool, Kerry thought again, when it came to hidden motives and complex calculations. No doubt it came from Lenihan's clear understanding of his own. "Even if that was what I intended," Kerry responded, "and even if Lara could bring suit, what would it buy me except for a distraction I don't need?"

    "Leverage. And a public relations tool of incalculable value." Lenihan made a quick chopping motion, as if cutting to the core of Kerry's challenge. "Right now you're playing in two arenas—Congress, and the 'court of public opinion.' To win in those two dimensions, and beat the SSA, you need a third dimension: litigation.

    "A lawsuit against Lexington for its role in bringing about the wrongful death of Lara's mother, sister and niece will transform the gun debate. We can turn that fucking company inside out."

    "Whereas I can't."

    "How could you, Mr. President? By setting loose the Justice Department? Under what pretext? You'd look like the tyrant the SSA's always claimed you are." Lenihan's mouth framed a smile of anticipation. "I can expose Lexington's greed and calculation—how they marketed to criminals, the way they developed the Eagle's Claw, why they kowtow to the SSA—then feed it to the press. I'd take George Callister's deposition and pillory him for days. It might not even get that far.

    "They're already scared of me," Lenihan finished with absolute certainty. "Arm me with this case, and they'll give you everything you want on gun control before they'd dare to face me in front of a jury."

    "Lexington?" Kerry inquired softly. "Or the SSA?"

    "Both. Do you think the SSA wants me to expose that it controls the American gun industry? Hell no." Lenihan's own voice softened and his smile became complicit. "I can hardly believe, Mr. President, that none of this has occurred to you."

    Kerry shrugged. "Perhaps I had a mental block," he answered coolly. "I can't quite see what this scenario has to offer you. Not money, surely—Lexington's nowhere near as rich as Philip Morris."

"True," Lenihan rejoined, "but there's a certain moral equivalency.

    "You nailed it last night—guns and tobacco are the only two products in America not regulated for consumer safety. We can't even get safety locks, which is why six-year-olds blow their playmates' brains out by accident, and sixteen-year-olds commit suicide with someone else's gun." Lenihan's voice became stentorian. "I've got all the money I need, Mr. President. This is about morality.

    "We both know these bloodsuckers market to criminals and crazies. We both know that they're perfectly aware that the fucking Lexington P-2 is a weapon of choice for drug lords.

    "How much would it have cost them to retrofit the P-2 so it wouldn't take a forty-round magazine? And wouldn't you like to see how they tested the Eagle's Claw to make sure it could shred somebody's liver? Hell, I wouldn't put it past those bastards to prop up a cadaver . . ."

    Kerry began to laugh. " 'Morality,' Bob? Is that all?"

    "Okay." Lenihan opened his arms in amiable capitulation. "I'm an excitement junky, and this would be the Super Bowl of litigation. All these moving parts—Congress, the Presidency, the SSA, the media, the courtroom, human drama on a scale that would make the O. J. Simpson trial look like dinner theater in Dubuque."

    And you, Kerry thought, pulling all these strings—including mine.

Calmly, he said, "We're talking about Mary, of course."

    This time Lenihan's smile, confined to one corner of his mouth, never reached his eyes. "Yes," he answered. "I was hoping you'd recommend me.

    "I can take on the big boys, Mr. President. With a two-hundredperson firm, we've got the bodies. All we need is Mary Costello."

    Silent, Kerry gazed at him. "I know Mary's talked with you," he answered. "As I understand from Lara—and I'm sure you understand— she's not yet prepared to embrace the rigors of a lawsuit.

    "But that's up to her. If Mary asks my advice, Bob, you can count on me to tell her that there's simply no one like you."

    After a moment, Lenihan nodded his satisfaction. "That's all I can ask for, Mr. President."

    Kerry was careful not to smile.

* * *

Shortly before noon, Clayton interrupted Kerry as he prepared for a meeting on Social Security reform.

"We've lost three men in the Sudan," Clayton told him.

    Three soldiers, Kerry thought. Not fifty thousand, as in Vietnam. But three more grieving families to console, three more lives lost as a consequence of his orders.

    Kerry put down his briefing book. "Are they flying the bodies into Ramstein?" he asked.

    "Yes. We're getting the contact information for the families and, as we can, any plans for funerals or memorial services. Kit's drafting a statement now."