Capitol Betrayal (28 page)

Wow. Ben liked the sound of that. He made a mental note to steal that for his closing. “You’re aware, sir, that the prosecutor has put on eyewitness testimony regarding unusual behavior attributed to you. And some of us have even witnessed it.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Can you explain?”

“I’m not sure what there is you think I need to explain. Here’s the reality: I’m not as boring as everyone thinks I am. Or as some people want the president of the United States to be. I’m a free spirit, which is admittedly an oddity in the world of politics. I’m eccentric. Always have been. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. Sure, that’s not the side I show when the cameras are rolling. But in the privacy of my home or my office, what’s the harm? Not every president has to be the same stuffed shirt.”

Ben pondered for a millisecond. He liked the approach the president was taking. It would appeal to all who considered themselves nonconformists, which was more or less everyone. But was it enough to cover some of the behavior the cabinet had heard described? Not on its own. Even though he hated to bring it all up again, they would have to delve into the details.

“I understand what you’re saying,” Ben replied, “but I’m not sure how it applies to some of the incidents we’ve heard about today. For instance, Sarie told us—”

“Sarie is a wonderful woman,” the president said, interrupting. Technically, he should wait for the question before answering it, but no one was going to object to any attempt to move things along. “Efficient, organized, and on occasion ruthless. But she’s also somewhat emotional. And conventional. She is disturbed by the slightest deviation from schedule. Nothing wrong with that. It’s part of what makes her a great chief of staff. But it does influence her opinions. She is readily thrown when people are anything but perfectly conventional.”

Out the corner of his eye, Ben saw Sarie’s brow crease. It was probably hard for her to hear him speak these words. But of course, her testimony had not been a picnic for the president to hear, either.

“Sarie recounted three specific incidents,” Ben recalled. “The first had you chatting with portraits hanging on the wall.”

The president smiled. “Which was grossly exaggerated, and besides, talking to pictures is not a crime or a sign of mental illness. Let’s have a show of hands. How many people in the room have ever talked to themselves? That would be everyone, whether you admit it or not. This was no different. Now, if I expected the portraits to answer, that would be bad. But I didn’t. I was just speaking my thoughts out loud, basically.”

“She said you were asking the portraits… philosophical questions.”

“My recollection is that I did it once. Maybe twice. So what? I’ve long been a student of the U.S. presidents, and I’m interested in how they dealt with crises such as contracting polio, and in how a purportedly devout Roman Catholic reconciled his marital indiscretions with his faith. And I vocalized those thoughts while I was looking at the pictures. To me, that’s no different from looking at yourself in the mirror and thinking out loud. I’d be willing to bet that even Sarie Morrell does that.”

Ben marveled, not for the first time, at the vast power of a good orator. President Kyler, like other presidents before him, was a great communicator. His calm and measured accounts were almost eradicating the incriminating images formed by Sarie’s earlier testimony. If he kept this up, they might just have a tiny chance of success.

“Ms. Morrell also recounted an incident involving you skinny-dipping in the White House pool.”

President Kyler tucked in his chin. “Well now, that episode was embarrassing for the both of us. The only difference was that I tried to keep cool, while she just about lost it.”

“Were you in fact swimming naked?”

“Yes, and what’s wrong with that? Lots of people do it. It’s my pool, for Pete’s sake. I can swim in my birthday suit if I want. It’s not as if anyone was there, or invited in there. I didn’t ask Sarie to track me down. That was her idea. And she inexplicably hung around even after she saw that I was not dressed. If there was any odd behavior, in my opinion, it was hers.”

“Have you done this on other occasions?”

“Yes. I like it. Haven’t you ever swum nude?”

“I don’t have a pool.”

“Ever gotten into a hot tub naked?”

“No.”

The president smiled. “What was I thinking? You’re Ben Kincaid. You probably don’t even get into the bathtub naked.”

“Well…”

“Most people I know who own hot tubs don’t bother with the swimsuit. You heard Sarie talk about guys swimming in the buff at the Y. That’s how it was in my hometown, too. It’s very cleansing. Supposed to be good for you. And at any rate, there’s nothing wrong with it. Granted, if I had sought out Sarie while naked, that would not be acceptable. But that’s not what happened.”

“Is this something you’ve done on other occasions?”

“Of course. My whole life long. Why not? Here’s what you need to understand about me. Even though I’ve been in politics for a good while, I have always been able to maintain some measure of a private life. Until now. These past four months have required an incredible adjustment from me. Even when I was governor, I didn’t have this kind of transparent existence. I keep struggling to find opportunities to be myself, to express myself, to enjoy some personal freedom. But between the press, the Secret Service, and Sarie, that has become almost impossible. And that is very frustrating for me.”

Nicely done, Ben had to admit. This examination, which he had expected to be supremely difficult, was almost effortless. He pitched soft-balls and the president knocked them out of the park. Could they really rehabilitate the president’s reputation? Or was this just the calm before the storm?

He glanced up at the monitor to try to gauge the reaction of the all-important cabinet members. For the most part, they weren’t showing whatever thoughts were buzzing around in their brains. But they were paying attention.

Something still troubled Ben, though.

None of the others could see it. They were too far away or sitting at the wrong angle. But Ben could tell. He could see the telltale movement in the upper leg. And when Ben “inadvertently” dropped a page of his hastily scribbled notes, he confirmed it.

The president’s feet were tap-dancing again.

If he had started that, what would he do next?

“Sarie brought up one more incident, Mr. President. Perhaps the strangest of them all. It involved you up on the roof of the White House, a purported attempt to fly, and threats to kill yourself. What really happened?”

The president sighed heavily. “Well, you’re right about one thing, Ben. That one was very different from the others. Very different indeed.”

“Please explain.”

“I suppose, at the end of the day, it does reveal an error in judgment on my part. Not insanity, to be sure. But a mistake. I thought I could trust Sarie Morrell.”

Across the table, Ben saw Sarie’s lips part. The sadness on her face was palpable. Ben keenly regretted this. He genuinely liked Sarie and thought she was the shining light in an otherwise middling staff. But her testimony had been damaging to the president. If he was going to win this trial, he was going to have to confront what she said head-on.

“Please explain.”

“Let me say one thing up front. I don’t blame her. She didn’t want to testify. But when she did, she revealed things that were told to her in confidence, and honestly, if a president can’t trust his own chief of staff, who can he trust? Apparently, no one.”

Sarie looked as if she had been stabbed by a butcher knife, but the president continued.

“Yes, I went out on the roof. I was desperate for some privacy. Some time to myself, something I never seem to get. Don’t you like to be alone occasionally? I think everyone wants some alone time every now and again. But I never get it, not unless I make it. So I ditched my keepers and climbed out on the roof. But I was there less than ten minutes when, what do you know, here comes Sarie, hunting me down. I was furious. I will admit I acted a little weird. But I did it purposely. I did it because I wanted her to leave.”

“Did it work?”

“Hell, no. The weirder I got, the more determined she seemed to stick with me. It was a lose-lose scenario. Yes, I talked about flying. Who hasn’t dreamed of flying, of just taking off and going wherever you want? Up, up, and away, right? I even pantomimed it a bit. But I didn’t plan to do it. Why Sarie ever thought I might—well, who knows? I think she had already made up her mind that I was nuts. Or perhaps just too much trouble. At any rate, she told me she was done. Through. She was resigning.”

The creases in Sarie’s brow deepened. Ben wasn’t sure if that meant she remembered doing this or didn’t.

“How did you respond to that?”

“I tried to talk her out of it, of course. I told her we all get despondent at one time or another. That’s when the topic of suicide arose. I confessed that on occasion I’ve had dark thoughts of doing dark things. I think that’s universal. We all have that blackness at the heart of our soul. I was trying to comfort her, to bolster her spirits. Isn’t it ironic, then, that she takes the words that were offered to help her and turns them into a weapon? Her desire to quit becomes my desire to die.”

“Are you in fact suicidal?”

“Not in the least. Not even in my worst moments. Not even when I desperately want to be alone. Not even now. There were times when I was a kid when I may have entertained such thoughts—when a girl dumped me, or after rereading
Romeo and Juliet
. But it wasn’t serious. And now I’m a mature grown-up and there’s just no chance.”

“Not even during a press conference?”

“I don’t know where that bit came from. I don’t recall saying anything like that. But to answer your question: no, not during a press conference. Or anywhere else. Absolutely not.”

“You’re sure?”

“Do I look suicidal? Honestly, if most people had to go through a day like today has been for me, I think they’d be doing a lot worse than singing sitcom songs. But I’ve been in politics a while now. I’m used to it. They can’t get to me, not the real me. I have no reason to want to die.”

“And since you mentioned the singing…”

“Thank you,” President Kyler said eagerly. “I wanted to talk about that. I mean, forgive me for saying so, Mr. Vice President—but when did you become such a self-righteous, pompous ass?”

Cartwright leaned forward. “The witness will address his comments to the court and the jury. Not the prosecutor.”

If the president heard this at all, there was no sign of it. “If I want to sing, I will damn well sing. It’s a great way to relieve tension. Who hasn’t sung in the shower? Sung along to their iPod when they’re driving. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Your choice of song was somewhat… eccentric.”

“So what? I like that song. In fact, I
love
that song. I’ll sing it if I damn well please. Even the president needs a little something, some kind of release, every now and again. As long as I keep it out of the public eye, there’s nothing wrong with it. And it’s no one else’s business.” He paused, drew up his shoulders. “I’m the president of the United States, people. If I want to kick back and get silly, I will.”

“And you have no trouble returning to business afterward.”

“Absolutely not, and I haven’t heard anyone testify that I did. Even Sarie acknowledged that after these so-called episodes were over, I got back to business as usual. So what’s the harm? Forgive me for saying so, but I think they’re making a mountain out of a molehill. And if the vice president weren’t so eager to rest his butt in the Oval Office, he’d see how flimsy this case really is.”

Ben paused for a moment, pleased at how well the testimony was going. This was better than he would’ve thought possible. Even though he hadn’t covered every single point Swinburne raised, he’d covered enough of them. The president had argued in favor of his right to express himself freely in private, and who would deny a president that? Like a brilliant trial lawyer, he had framed the issue in a manner that made it impossible for anyone to rule against him.

And in Ben’s book, that meant it was time to move on. He had intentionally started with the “crazy” arguments. He thought the jury would be most interested in hearing about that, and he didn’t want to finish on that note, with the president having to defend himself. Better to get it out of the way and end with something more positive.

But before he could do that, there was one more matter that had to be addressed.

“Mr. President, we’ve just heard Mr. Zimmer testify that you have a son, heretofore unknown to the general public. Is that true?”

The president blinked rapidly, then looked around the room, making eye contact with many of the people there. “Yes, it’s true.”

Many significant looks passed through the room as President Kyler offered this confirmation, but nothing like the shock that had registered earlier. In only a few minutes this had become yesterday’s news.

“Please tell us what happened.”

“Of course. But I have a request first. I have no way of enforcing this. But I will ask that everyone in this room please maintain the confidentiality that goes with being in the cabinet or on the White House staff. This has become relevant to this trial, and while I regret that, I accept it. But there is no reason why this needs to be made public, especially if I remain in office once this trial is over. So I respectfully request, out of respect for my wife and children, that you keep this to yourself.”

“I’m sure everyone will honor your request,” Ben said, expressing a confidence he did not feel. “Please proceed.”

“My son’s name is Abe. That’s short for Abram, of course, a very popular name in the Middle East. I met his mother when I was very young and naive, just finishing up at the School of Government and Law at Yale. Tovah—that’s his mother’s name—was in some of my classes. She was a cousin of the royal family in Kuraq, which is the only reason she was there. Although the ayatollah in charge at the time was running the government, he had allowed the royal family to remain intact for symbolic purposes. Not unlike the royal family in England—they don’t actually have any power, but the government still keeps them around. Most women in Kuraq wouldn’t even be educated, much less at Harvard. But her family’s prestige gave her special privileges.”