James Huston - Marine One

Rose looked up at all the cameras and the faces of all the reporters. She began reading a prepared statement. She told them she would take no questions, this was a preliminary finding, how tirelessly all the professionals who were a part of the investigation had worked, blah, blah, blah. Everybody in the country wanted her to get to the point. Finally she did. She looked up and her eyes narrowed. I wondered if she had written that gesture into her statement. "First of all, let me say that our findings, again, are preliminary, and this is particularly true as to the cause of this accident. I want to state clearly what we believe did not cause this accident. We have found no evidence of any explosives, projectiles, or other means of bringing this helicopter down by outside forces. This helicopter was not shot down. Second, we, with the FBI and other investigators, have found no evidence of foul play. The president was not assassinated. Third, it is our preliminary belief that the cause of this accident was due to the helicopter losing one of its main rotor blades in the storm." You could hear cameras clicking in the background. "We are not positive about the cause of that rotor blade leaving the main rotor hub. But we know it was put on the helicopter two weeks ago. This was a replacement blade. Our current focus is on the missing tip weights which could have caused blade separation. That is all I have."

She closed her notebook and walked away from the lectern without answering any of the questions being screamed at her by the journalists: So, it was WorldCopter's fault? Was it sabotage? How long before your investigation is final? Have you met with WorldCopter? What did they say?

She was true to her word and took no questions. When the door closed behind her, the reporters quieted down. I muted the sound on my computer and looked up at Rachel, who was looking down at me. She folded her arms and stared at the screen. "How could they know that?"

"I don't know, maybe they've got some good metallurgy we haven't seen. I'll ask Marcel. They're clearly not telling us everything. They can wait until the final report is issued to really lay it out. That could be another year or two."

"Marcel would have already told us if they'd found something." Rachel stood there, not moving. She looked down at me again. "You buying it?"

"We've always known that blade was a problem. But do I think that caused the accident? No."

"Then why would they say it did?"

"Because they believe it. You ever heard of Occam's razor?"

"No."

"It's named after some philosopher. His idea, the 'razor,' was that the correct answer to a complex problem is usually found in the simplest solution. The more you construct or assume, the more steps or requirements there are to explain it, the less likely it is to be right. All things being equal, the explanation that calls for the fewest assumptions is likely the correct one. Basically, the simplest answer wins."

"Makes sense."

"I don't think it does, but my point is, that's the way the NTSB thinks. If they can come up with a single screw that explains an entire accident, they'll grab on to that theory and hold it forever. You can tell them whatever you want, you can question all their evidence, it won't matter. You won't push them off of that conclusion. And as you know, the government is never wrong."

"That's certainly been my experience."

She stood up and walked toward the door. "Once you start thinking about this accident, you can't stop. I can see why people obsess about the Kennedy assassination."

"Once your brain locks onto the facts, you can't rest until all the pieces fit into a picture. Here's the NTSB giving us their theory, and nobody even knows who the president was going to meet."

Rachel walked out and said on her way, "We going to be able to find answers?"

"I'm sure as hell going to try."

A WEEK PASSEDwith daily visits to the wreckage in the hangar and talking to potential experts I was considering using. At the end of one particularly long day that started with me in the office before dawn, I invited Debbie to go out to dinner with me at one of the nicer restaurants in Annapolis. We arrived and were waiting to be seated when I saw Hackett on the television. He was holding a press conference. I asked the hostess to give us a minute. We walked into the bar and strained to see the television at the far end.

Several others were watching and the bartender turned up the volume. Hackett was in his conference room with his law firm's name emblazoned in gold lettering on the mahogany wall behind him. The press had been given plenty of notice that the attorney who represented the first lady was holding a press conference. They packed the conference room. Conveniently, the press conference coincided with the evening news. We had missed the first couple of minutes.

Hackett paused as photographers clicked cameras and print reporters made notes. He continued, "Now that the NTSB has stated what the cause of this accident was, and we know that it was WorldCopter's fault, the first lady has reluctantly asked me to pursue the justice and the closure that she thinks the country needs, the justice that is required to defend the honor of President Adams. She wants answers for herself, not just as part of some governmental investigation. She wants me to be able to question the WorldCopter employees who put this helicopter together, the ones that put this blade on this helicopter, the ones who installed the tip weights that came off, the ones who caused the death of the president of the United States. Because of that, Mrs. Adams has requested that I file a lawsuit on her behalf against WorldCopter. I did so this afternoon at four thirty PM. Not only has the first lady requested that I file a suit on her behalf, but the wives of all of the men killed on this helicopter, including the two Marine pilots, the Secret Service agents, and the Marine crew chief, have joined in the lawsuit. They were all killed because of a defect in this helicopter. We will also be examining the evidence to determine whether the conduct here was so egregious or malicious, or reckless, that it calls for an award of punitive damages. If it does, we will ask the jury to award a substantial amount of punitive damages against WorldCopter for the damage they have caused to these families and to the greater American family. Thank you. I will now take any questions you may have."

I felt my BlackBerry buzz and pulled it out. Debbie frowned at me as I answered it. "Mike Nolan."

It was Rachel. "I've got the lawsuit."

"Where'd you find it?"

"Hackett posted it on his firm's Web site."

"Figures. And?"

"Guess where he filed it?"

"D.C.?"

"Nope."

"District of Maryland. By D.C."

"Nope. Right here in Annapolis."

"What? Why?"

"That's what I was going to ask you."

Rachel told me everything she could about the complaint. "Thanks. I'll get back to you."

I hung up and looked at Debbie. "Hackett filed his suit right here."

"Why here? I assumed he would file in D.C."

"That's what I've been wondering. But think about it. Who built the courthouse and appointed both our judges?"

"President Adams."

"Exactly. Hackett is guaranteed to have a judge who was appointed by his client's husband. And both the federal judges here, as you well know, are both former plaintiff's lawyers."

"Which judge got the case?"

"Betancourt."

"You like her, don't you?"

"I do. I think she's fair, which is all you can really ask for. I don't think he'll get the advantage from this he thinks he will and Norris will be the magistrate. She likes me."

Debbie frowned. "Then why would Hackett file here? I'm sure he researched judges here."