Tangled Webs (34 page)

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Authors: James B. Stewart

Tags: #History, #United States, #General, #Law, #Ethics & Professional Responsibility

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There were some critical differences from Armitage’s account: according to Novak, Armitage had used a name–Valerie–which was how Novak recognized the name Valerie Plame in Wilson’s
Who’s Who
entry. He specified that she worked on counterproliferation, and the reference to Evans & Novak suggested he wanted the information to appear in print. Using Duberstein to set up the interview also suggested that this might have been Armitage’s goal from the outset.
Novak said he didn’t think Armitage would give him “bad dope,” but he decided to check out the information with Karl Rove. He and Rove had known each other for twenty-three years, and Novak spoke to Rove two to three times a week. He called him later that day or the next and Rove had returned the call. Novak repeated the information about Wilson’s wife working at the CIA, and Rove had said, “Oh, you know about that too.” Novak took that as explicit confirmation; Rove was indeed Novak’s second source. He asked Rove about Wilson’s report, to which Rove responded that “it lacked meaning and was inconclusive.” Rove added that it was oral, that Wilson had briefed the CIA, which summarized it in a report that the White House would like to declassify. Novak thought it was significant that the report was oral; no other reporters had that fact. Their discussion had shifted to the slowness of the White House to respond to the episode, and the conversation lasted a total of about ten minutes. Novak said Rove never told him not to use any of this information.
There were also critical differences between Novak’s version and Rove’s: Rove had said he’d “heard” about Wilson’s wife; “you know about that too” implied he knew it. He’d also described a classified document. Fitzgerald and Eckenrode felt that neither Armitage nor Rove had been entirely forthcoming.
 
 
D
espite his lack of cooperation, former press secretary Ari Fleischer hadn’t been a high priority for the investigators. Other than his lunch with Libby the day after Wilson’s op-ed piece, there was nothing to link him to Libby or Rove or any leaks to reporters. Still, Fitzgerald obtained a subpoena and Fleischer came before the grand jury in January. He invoked the Fifth Amendment and refused to testify. What was Fleischer holding back? Fitzgerald negotiated with his lawyer, Robert Barnett of Williams & Connolly (who’d also negotiated a book deal for Fleischer). Barnett indicated that Fleischer would answer all questions if he was granted immunity–and that it would be worth it to the prosecutors. He made a proffer describing what Fleischer could say, and they quickly reached a deal. Fitzgerald granted Fleischer immunity on February 16. Immediately after, they met for a preliminary debriefing. To avoid detection, Fitzgerald and Eckenrode met Fleischer and Barnett at an apartment Williams & Connolly keeps in Manhattan.
Fleischer described his lunch with Libby on July 7, which he thought was unusual, even “weird.” Libby had told Fleischer that Wilson’s wife worked for the CIA, and that this information was “hush-hush” and “on the QT.” Fleischer was sure this was the first he’d heard this. Fleischer didn’t think the press would be all that interested. “The press would not find it interesting one way or another if his wife sent him. . . . It just didn’t strike me as news about whether the CIA had nepotism, or in this case was incompetent, was relevant to whether or not the president’s statement about Iraq seeking uranium from Africa was germane.”
Eckenrode had long suspected that there was more to the Fleischer lunch than Libby had ever admitted, but this was much more than he expected. Libby had told Fleischer about Valerie Wilson three days before his alleged conversation with Tim Russert.
Fleischer said he was on the presidential trip to Africa on Air Force One later that week, and there was further discussion of Wilson’s wife on the plane. He had also read some classified documents on the flight about Wilson’s mission, including the CIA report summarizing Wilson’s trip. Fleischer also recalled presidential lawyer Dan Bartlett “venting” about Wilson’s wife and the “incompetence” of the CIA.
The presidential party arrived in Uganda on July 11, and at one point Fleischer was standing along a road with several reporters, including John Dickerson of
Time
and David Gregory of NBC. They were talking about what a bad week it had been for the White House. Here they were in Africa, and all anyone asked about was Wilson and the sixteen-words controversy. “If it wasn’t this crap, it would be some other crap,” Fleischer said, immediately regretting his choice of words. Then he’d volunteered, “If you want to know who sent Ambassador Wilson to Niger, it was his wife. She works there.” He hoped it might “make the controversy go away,” but the reporters didn’t even take out their notebooks. “It was a big ‘so what.’”
The next day Fleischer had returned a call from Walter Pincus of the
Washington Post
from the plane, but he couldn’t recall if they’d discussed Wilson’s wife. He didn’t think so.
None of those reporters followed up on the information or wrote a story about it. But Fleischer had leaked a CIA agent’s identity to at least two reporters, possibly three. He was clearly one of the two officials referred to in Allen’s
Washington Post
article. Fleischer insisted that never in his “wildest dreams” did he suspect that Plame was a covert agent, but he had reason to believe her status was classified: Libby had told him the information was “hush-hush” and he’d read about her in classified documents.
As Fleischer described his reaction to the leak investigation, “I thought, Oh my God, did I play a role in somehow outing a CIA officer? . . . Did I do something that I could be in big trouble for?” No wonder he had demanded immunity.
At least Fleischer had been truthful, acknowledging the facts and not hiding behind an alleged failure of memory. He was swiftly brought before the grand jury on February 24, repeating what he’d told Fitzgerald and Eckenrode. He dealt Libby’s credibility another serious blow. As one agent put it, Fleischer’s testimony all but “clinched” Libby’s indictment–unless Libby was prepared to recant and correct his story. It was time to bring Libby before the grand jury.
 
 
O
n March 5, 2004, I. Lewis Libby and his lawyer, Joseph Tate, arrived at the E. Barrett Prettyman Federal Courthouse on Pennsylvania Avenue. They were escorted to a small, windowless room where members of the grand jury sat at small desks and Fitzgerald and his staff worked from an L-shaped table at the back of the fluorescent-lit room. Libby testified alone while Tate waited in the corridor, although Libby was free to consult him at any time.
It was a critical moment for Libby and the investigation. He had been formally notified that he was a “subject” of the investigation, as opposed to simply being a witness. That meant he was being investigated, suggesting evidence of a crime. Clearly, Libby had talked to reporters and discussed Plame. There were glaring inconsistencies between his version of how that might have happened and others’ testimony. He had told the FBI that he thought he’d learned Plame’s identity from Tim Russert; the discovery of his notes indicated the vice president had told him already, but he’d forgotten that. With reporters he was careful to say he’d only heard about Plame from other reporters and didn’t know if it was true she worked at the CIA. By now Fitzgerald knew from other administration officials–Martin and Grossman–that Libby had been told about Wilson’s wife repeatedly. He could not have heard it for the first time from Russert, even if he had forgotten the Cheney instance. And the most glaring contradiction was with Russert, who denied ever discussing Wilson’s wife with Libby.
Would Libby now try to correct the record? To admit lying to the FBI would end his career and be admitting a crime (as Doug Faneuil discovered), but perhaps he could say he’d been confused, or had misremembered. But that begged the question: If the Russert story (and perhaps others) was false, what was Libby concealing?
“Let me just introduce myself again. My name is Pat Fitzgerald. I’m a special counsel in this matter, joined by other attorneys with the special counsel’s office seated at the table. And this grand jury is investigating possible offenses of different laws that include Title 50 of the United States Code, Section 421, which concerns the disclosure of the identity of a covert agent; Title 18 of the United States Code, Section 793, which is the illegal transmission of national defense information; . . . or Title 18, Section 1001, false statements. . . . Do you understand the general nature of the investigation?”
“I do, sir.”
“I should tell you that you have a constitutional right to refuse to answer any question if a truthful answer would tend to incriminate you. Do you understand that you have that right?”
“I do, sir. . . .”
“Are you an attorney yourself?”
“I am.”
“And do you understand that any testimony you give is under oath and that if you make any deliberate false statement about a material or important fact, you could be prosecuted for perjury? Do you understand that?”
“I do understand that.”
“And what that means is that if someone were to make a false statement they should assume that anything we ask about during the course of today’s grand jury is something that is material or important to the investigation. You understand that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And if someone does make a false statement or commit perjury, they could be prosecuted [and sentenced to] up to five years in jail for each such false statement. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, sir . . .”
“And I will also tell you, as you were advised prior to coming in, in the presence of your attorney, that based on your conduct in this investigation and in particular, [your] contact with reporters, you, among others, are a subject of the investigation. And that does not mean anyone has decided to charge you with any crimes, but just is to advise you of the serious nature of the proceeding. Do you understand that?”
“I do.”
“And do you have any questions about the nature of the proceeding?”
“No, sir.”
“And are you prepared to proceed?”
“I am.”
After some background questions, Fitzgerald started with the Kristof column and steered Libby through the events leading up to the Novak column pretty much in chronological order. The first area of conflicting testimony involved Libby’s dealings with the State Department’s Marc Grossman. Libby said he didn’t recall any discussions with Grossman about Wilson’s trip or other issues in Kristof’s column.
“Do you recall any conversation with Secretary Grossman about who was responsible for sending Wilson on this trip to Niger?”
“I don’t recall a conversation with him about it.”
“And do you know if you ever discussed with Secretary Grossman whether Wilson’s wife worked at the CIA?”
“No, I don’t recall ever discussing that.”
After covering the events of early June in detail, including Libby’s recollection of the crucial conversation in which Cheney mentioned that Wilson’s wife worked for the CIA, Fitzgerald again asked about Grossman:
“As you sit here today, do you know whether or not you ever spoke to Secretary Grossman about having him find out information about what caused this former ambassador to be sent to Niger?”
“I don’t recall it.”
“And do you recall ever having a discussion with Marc Grossman before, during, or after a Deputies Committee meeting where Marc Grossman told you that he had learned the former ambassador’s wife had worked at the CIA in the counterproliferation division?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Do you recall any conversation at any time when Secretary Grossman told you that the former ambassador’s wife worked at the CIA?”
“I don’t recall.”
“You have no memory of that whatsoever?”
“Sorry, sir, I don’t.”
Fitzgerald wasn’t subtle. It must have been obvious at this point that Grossman had said something to Libby about Wilson’s wife. Fitzgerald had given Libby every opportunity to remember something about it, but Libby had insisted he had no recollection.
Fitzgerald moved on to the Wilson op-ed piece, and showed Libby the copy that Cheney had saved and annotated, including the reference to the wife’s “junket.” But Libby said he didn’t recall discussing the wife with the vice president, or anyone else for that matter, since he only learned it when he spoke to Tim Russert. Fitzgerald leaped on this, which was the heart of Libby’s alibi:
“Is it your testimony under oath that you don’t recall discussing Wilson’s wife working at the CIA between the July 6 date when the Wilson op-ed appeared and your conversation with Tim Russert?”
“That’s correct, sir . . . I don’t recall discussing it. What I do recall is being surprised when I talked to Mr. Russert on the 10th or the 11 th, and I am inferring from that surprise that I hadn’t talked about it earlier in the week.”
“Let me ask you this: Do you recall going to lunch on July 7 with Ari Fleischer?”
Libby remembered the lunch, and said they discussed Fleischer’s plans and the Miami Dolphins, “and we probably discussed the uranium business because it was a very hot topic at that point.” But Libby couldn’t remember if they had or not.
“And you recall that you had lunch with Mr. Fleischer?”

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