Brad Meltzer - The First Councel

“You sure about that?”

I look up. He doesn’t blink.

“For all you know, we’ve already spoken twice. Once on the telephone; once in the Residence. In fact, she might’ve already pushed me in your direction.”

I know it’s a lie. “She’d never do that.”

“She wouldn’t save herself? Everyone’s human, Michael. And when you think of the circumstances… if she goes down, you both go down. That’s part of cleaning house. But if you go down-if you’re the one to blame-she’s not going anywhere.” He pauses, letting it grind into my brain. “I know you don’t want to hurt her, but there’s only one way to help yourself… and if you can get us Vaughn-”

“How many times do you need to hear it? I didn’t do anything and I don’t know Vaughn!”

Adenauer flicks a tiny piece of lint from the knee of his slacks. The easygoing English teacher is long gone. “So you’ve never been in contact with each other?”

“That’s correct.”

“You’re not lying to me, are you?”

I can either tell him about tomorrow’s meeting, or I can call his bluff. I’m not ready to give it up just yet. “I’ve never seen or spoken to the guy in my life.”

He shakes his head at the news. “Michael, let me give you a piece of advice,” he says, once again sounding concerned. “I’ve got Vaughn’s profile down to a gnat’s ass. Whatever he’s got with Nora-they’ll both sell you out in a second.”

I stop my leg from shaking and take a mental deep breath. Don’t let him get to you. “I know what it says in the WAVES report, but I swear to you, I didn’t let him in.” Hoping to grab the reins, I dart for my own change of subject. “Now what about the death itself? Have you got Caroline’s results yet?”

“I thought you said it was a heart attack.”

The man never lets up. “You know what I mean-is the tox report back from the lab yet?”

He tilts his head just enough for me to see the arch in his eyebrow. “I don’t know. I haven’t checked in a while.”

It’s a blatant lie and he wants me to know it. He’s not giving me that one. Not unless I cooperate. And especially not when he’s this close.

“You sure you don’t want to tell me what really happened?” he asks, once again playing the teacher.

I refuse to answer.

“Please, Michael. Whatever it is, we’re willing to work with you.”

It’s a tempting offer-but it’s not a guarantee. Besides, if Vaughn comes through… it’s not only the fastest way to prove it’s Simon, it’s also the best way to protect Nora. And myself. Still silent, I turn away from Adenauer.

“Your choice,” he says. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

I pause. “What’s Friday?”

“C’mon, boy, you think we’re going to just sit around, waiting on you? If I don’t hear from you in the next three days, I’m taking you and Vaughn public. That’ll be more than enough to flush Nora out. Friday, Michael. That’s when America meets you.”

“Was he serious?” Trey asks through the phone.

Staring at the blank TV in my office, I don’t answer. On-screen, all I see is my reflection.

“Michael, I asked you a question: Was Adenauer serious?”

“Huh?”

“Was he-”

“I–I think so,” I finally say. “I mean, since when does the FBI make empty threats?”

Trey takes a second to answer. He knows what I’m going through, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to hold back. “This isn’t just a bad hair day,” he warns. “If even a hint of what happened gets out… ”

“I know, Trey. Believe me, I know-you read me the polls every morning-but what am I supposed to do? Yesterday you’re telling me to turn myself in so Nora doesn’t bury me; today, you’re crying that if anything gets out, I single-handedly wreck the presidency. The only thing that’s consistent is that either way I’m screwed.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“All I can do is go for the truth-find Vaughn and figure out if he’s got some insight into what really happened. If that doesn’t work… ” I stop, unable to finish the sentence.

He gives me a few seconds to calm down. “What about Simon’s financial disclosure forms?” he eventually asks, still determined to help. “I thought we were going to look through those to see where he got the money.”

“According to Adenauer, there’s nothing in his bank accounts.”

“And you’re going to take his word for it?”

“What else you want me to do? I put the request in over a week ago-it should be here any day.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but any day ’s not gonna cut it. You’ve only got three days left. If I were you, I’d put on my nice-guy voice and have a long overdue talk with Nora.”

Silently, I once again stare at the TV, rolling the option around my brain. He has a point. Still, if Vaughn comes through… if he’s also been screwed by Simon… That’s the door to a brand-new reality. Maybe Vaughn was the one Simon met in the bar. Simon could’ve been borrowing the cash. Maybe that’s why there was nothing in his bank accounts.

“So whattya say?” Trey asks.

I shake my head even though he can’t see it. “Tomorrow’s my meeting with Vaughn,” I say hesitantly. “After that, I can always talk to Nora.”

By the long pause, I can tell Trey disagrees.

“What?” I ask. “I thought you wanted me to meet with Vaughn?”

“I do.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Again, there’s a pause. “I know it’s hard for you to accept this, Michael, but just remember that, sometimes, you should be looking out for yourself.”

It takes me a good half hour to turn my attention back to the briefing, but once there, I’m consumed. The wiretap file is spread out in front of me, and my desk is buried in a pile of law review articles, op-ed pieces, scientific studies, and current opinion polls. I’ve spent the last two months learning everything I could about this issue. Now I have to figure out how to teach it. No, not just teach it-teach it to the leader of the free world.

Two hours later, I’m still working on my introduction. This isn’t high school debate with Mr. Ulery. It’s the Oval Office with Ted Hartson. President Hartson. With a dictionary at my side, I rewrite my opening sentence for the seventeenth time. Each word has to be just right. It’s still not there.

Opening sentence. Take eighteen.

Working straight through lunch, I hit the heart of the argument. Sure, we’re trained to present an unbiased view, but let’s be honest. This is the White House. Everyone’s got an opinion.

As a result, it doesn’t take me long to make a list of reasons for the President to come out against roving wiretaps. That’s the easy part. The hard part is convincing the President I’m right. Especially in an election year.

At five o’clock, I take my only break: a ten-minute round-trip dash to the West Wing for the first batch of fries that comes out of the Mess. Over the next four hours, I skim through hundreds of criminal cases, looking for the best ones to make my point. It’s going to be a late night, but as long as things stay quiet, I should be able to get through it.

“Candy bars! Who wants candy bars?” Trey announces, striding through the door. “Guess what just got added to the vending machines?” Before I can answer, he adds, “Two words, Lucy: Hostess. Cupcakes. I saw ’em downstairs-our childhood trapped behind glass. For seventy-five cents, we get it back.”

“Now’s really a bad time… ”

“I understand-you’re knee-deep. Then let me at least tell you about-”

“I can’t… ”

“No such thing as can’t . Besides, this is impor-”