James Huston - Marine One

The journalists were in disbelief and hurled questions at Hackett.

"I'm sorry, I just noticed the time. I must go prepare the first lady for her deposition with the same Mr. Nolan. I don't know what he has in mind, but we certainly need to discuss what he might try to do at this deposition. Again, I'm sorry that you cannot attend because WorldCopter did not want you to be there. I therefore regrettably don't really have time for the questions I know you have and that I expected to be able to answer. I need to go back to my office. But Mr. Nolan will be here shortly to conduct the deposition. There is no protective order from the court that says you can't ask him questions. And you're welcome to stay here in the lobby of my office until the deposition starts. Thank you."

Rachel muttered, "You've got to be shitting me."

"Don't worry about it. He's overplayed his hand this time."

Rachel sat up and turned toward me. "How, exactly? Didn't Tripp offer to pay this liar? And that doesn't make us look bad?"

"He offered all right. Sort of. But this isn't as simple as Hackett thinks."

"Well, help me understand then. 'Cause it looks pretty simple to me."

"You'll hear it when I tell the press."

We entered the District of Columbia at a snail's pace with the rest of the traffic coming in from Maryland. We arrived at Hackett's building, parked in the garage, and came up in the elevator. By the time I got to Hackett's office, the journalists had not only not left, they had increased in number. Those who hadn't been invited to the press conference had heard that the deposition was about to occur and immediately went to the office. The reception area was jammed, and they were all waiting for me.

As I opened the door and walked in with Rachel, they began firing questions. Did you pay a witness to testify against the first lady? Can you go to jail for ethics charges? Do you think WorldCopter will keep you on the case after this ethical breach? Will the judge hold you in contempt? Will she put you in jail? Have you been charged with ethics violations before? Why doesn't WorldCopter admit it was their fault and settle the case? Are you going to ask the first lady about her sex life with the president? Why did you ask the judge to keep us out of the deposition? Are you trying to hide something?

I put my hand up, smiled, and asked if they could please excuse me so I could get through to the conference room. Two refused to move from the door to the conference room unless I answered some questions. I turned to the journalists. "I don't believe in trying a case in the press."

They were not to be deterred. My statement just encouraged them. I turned, put my briefcase down, and moved to the podium that Hackett had so recently vacated after his press conference. "All right, I'll answer a couple of questions, but I don't have much time."

I stood behind the microphones, which they had notably not taken off the podium. "Yes," I said, pointing to a female journalist in the front.

"What do you have to say about the charges of Tom Hackett that you tried to pay a witness to testify to false information? Did you meet with a witness who wanted to be paid?"

I waited for the group to become completely quiet. "Mr. Hackett seems to have gotten some bad information. A few days ago I did receive a phone call from a gentleman who refused to identify himself and said he had conclusive proof that the accident was not WorldCopter's fault. This was obviously of interest, but he said he wanted to be paid for his testimony. I met with him and his attorney to evaluate him, and then met with him a second time to hear him out and find out what his terms were. It became clear to me that his request would be impossible. However, I obtained from him a sample of the evidence he said he could produce. It was a single-page maintenance record.

"We did not tell him no, and we left him with the impression that we were going to meet his demands. But of course we weren't, and we didn't. Since I had met him before and could describe him, the second time we met, I had my private investigator post some of his coworkers at every conceivable exit from the building in which we met. We had him followed. We know where he lives, and what he drives.

"But most important, I gave to my investigator my copy of the bogus maintenance record this gentleman had given to me. As I suspected, since it was that shiny kind of copying paper, there was a good fingerprint on it. The Washington, D.C., police were happy to trace this print for us as it would lead to the identity of someone trying to defraud those involved in a very important civil case.

"The man claiming to have records is a convicted criminal from New York. He is known to associate with a certain William Watters."

The journalist was stunned. She couldn't not ask the question. "Who is William Watters?"

"I believe he is a private investigator who has worked with many New York attorneys in the past. Check him out."

Someone yelled, "Including Tom Hackett?"

"Ask him."

"So you didn't pay the witness?"

"Of course not."

"What about the deposition? Why did you ask the court to close the depositions to the press?"

"Well, since Mr. Hackett is so familiar with Maryland State Bar ethics opinions, he should also be aware of the bar opinion where a plaintiff's attorney from Baltimore was disbarred for repeatedly trying his cases in the press. Several of the type of statements Mr. Hackett insists on making to you are prohibited by the Maryland Code of Professional Responsibility. You can't make public statements that are intended to bias prospective jurors. That's what seems to be happening, at least if journalists are any indication of public perception. So because it is unfair to my clients to try this case in the press, I asked the court for the chance to have this case tried in a courtroom, where it belongs. You may not like that, which I understand, but that's what the court thought was the right result as well. Now if you'll excuse me…"

I headed toward the conference room. As we entered, Rachel said quietly, "Do you think we should have told them about Tinny?"

"I just told them we had an investigator."

"Everyone knows who you use."

I shut the door behind me. The court reporter and the videographer were in place for the deposition. Hackett was there, the Secret Service was there, and the first lady sat across the table from the point where I entered. It was the first time I'd ever seen her in person. She was beautiful. She was elegant and composed and would make the best imaginable witness.

"Good morning. Everyone ready? I'm sure we all want to get out of here as soon as we can."

Hackett stood and reached across the table to shake my hand. "Good morning, Mr. Nolan," he said, trying not to smile.

I shook his hand.

He said, "Do you expect to continue on this case now that you'll be facing ethical charges?"

I stared at him. "I guess you didn't hear what I just said to the press. Why don't you ask me that question again after you've had a chance to hear it."

He looked confused. "What did you say?"

I took off my coat, put it on the back of my chair, and was about to sit down when the first lady rose. She smiled at me and held out her hand. "Good morning, Mr. Nolan. I'm Rebecca Adams."

I smiled at her as I shook her hand gently. She had soft hands but a firm handshake. I noticed her thin fingers. I was surprised that while she had probably had a manicure, she wore no nail polish, nothing fancy. "Yes, ma'am. I know who you are. It's very nice to meet you. I'm sorry we have to meet under these circumstances."

"So am I."

She sat back down. She was wearing an expensive dark green suit with a cream-colored silk blouse. She was taller than I had expected. She was probably five-eight. I don't know what I'd expected, probably five-five or so. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a fashionable style, and she looked poised and ready to go.