"Changes in the law," Fasano continued in this tutorial manner, "always affect existing rights. The courts acknowledge that. Thus when the state of Louisiana passed an immunity provision very similar to this, the United States Supreme Court declined to entertain a constitutional challenge.
"If there is any 'retroactive' abuse of law, it is the effort to impose a hitherto nonexistent liability on the manufacturers of a legal product— guns—for their criminal misuse by unknown third parties whose actions they do not control." Fasano spread his hands. "Multiply that effort by fifty states, and what you have is chaos—a legal minefield where the question of liability is a crazy quilt of conflicting outcomes, the iron whims of a thousand courts. All of it the random result of whether a gun is fired in, say, Illinois as opposed to Indiana."
Watching, Hampton acknowledged Fasano's talents, on this day employed more subtly than his own. Unable to divine the thoughts of Rollins, Coletti or Slezak, Hampton could only wonder whether anything said today—or some other, more hidden, influence—would cause one of them to tip the balance.
Lara was finding it hard to watch. The purpose of the law, Fasano urged his colleagues, is not simply to decide each case as it comes, but to assure a uniformity—and predictability—of outcomes.
"Nothing," Lara observed tartly, "could be more uniform—or more predictable—than locking the door of every courtroom in America." But, to her, it was far more visceral than that: she could never again see Senator Fasano without hating him.
* * *
Well satisfied with the beginning of his argument, Fasano cut to its core. "This," he said firmly, "is not about a faulty tire or an exploding gas tank. It involves a nondefective—and wholly lawful—product. And as terrible as were the murders ascribed to O. J. Simpson, no one thought to sue the maker of the knife."
With this, Fasano set about walking the tightrope between a clinical dissection of the law and the tacit implication that Kerry Kilcannon, by distorting it, sought to enhance his own unwarranted power. Fasano trusted that this would serve to keep his votes in place and, perhaps, gain him just one more.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Sarah fervently wished that she could watch the Senate vote on gun immunity. But instead, she and Lenihan went before Gardner Bond to demand the right to interrogate George Callister.
Sarah had hoped this hearing would be public, an opportunity to cite before the press from the depositions of Ben Gehringer, Mike Reiner, and Norman Conn—the better, even at this late hour, to influence the Senate's debate. But Nolan had argued that a public hearing would undermine the judge's order sealing all depositions. To the distress of Lenihan and Sarah, Bond had agreed. And so they gathered around a conference table in Bond's chambers—Bond, Nolan, Fancher, Lenihan, Sarah, and the court's stenographer—to resolve the matter of George Callister.
As always, Bond was impeccably tailored—a handmade suit, gold cuff links, crisp white breast pocket handkerchief—precise, and imperious. At the moment he was also angry, though they had yet to discuss George Callister.
"What," he inquired sternly of Nolan, "is the basis for your assertion that plaintiff's counsel are leaking information to the press?"
"It's not merely an assertion." Nolan shot a look at Lenihan and Sarah. "Last night CNN called me at home. They had received documents from Lexington files produced by a hostile employee, Norman Conn. The documents purport—according to the very unstable Mr. Conn—to contain information damaging to Lexington. We believe they show nothing of the kind. But CNN intends to divulge them to the public, perhaps as early as today."
Startled, Sarah glanced at Lenihan, whose expression did not change. "I can assure the Court," Nolan concluded with asperity, "that we did not provide them to the media. Nor did the SSA. That leaves Ms. Costello and her lawyers."
Lenihan appeared unruffled. "I'll try not to take offense at counsel's accusation," he responded. "I'll simply note that it betrays a rather glaring failure of imagination.
"Neither we nor Lexington control these documents." Briefly, Lenihan smiled. "Until Mr. Conn provided them, Lexington never owned up to their existence—whatever that suggests. As a result, these particular documents are not even subject to the Court's ban regarding those produced in response to a discovery demand. Anyone may have leaked them, and anyone can read them. Including CNN."
Sarah's amazement became a flash of amusement, followed by several certainties which made her anxious: that Lenihan had leaked the documents; that he had hoped to influence the Senate debate and enhance the settlement value of Mary's case; that he had attempted to skirt Bond's order on the barest of technicalities; and that he would admit to none of this. She could only admire his nerve, even as she feared its consequences—to both of them, and to Mary.
"Your Honor," Nolan said in a tone hard with indignation, "that statement lends new meaning to the phrase 'contempt of court.' The intent of this Court's order was very clear: to prevent the parties, through selective leaks, to try this case through the media. Yet this morning's New York Times reflects information from the deposition of a witness, Ben Gehringer. And now this."
"This morning's New York Times," Lenihan snapped, "reflects the federal indictment of the white supremacist who now admits selling the murder weapon to John Bowden at the gun show which, in defiance of all logic, Mr. Nolan intimated that Bowden might not have attended. No doubt that's damaging—if not devastating—to Lexington's defense. It may even be unhelpful to Lexington's efforts to wring immunity out of the United States Senate. But it's beyond the pale to suggest that Ms. Dash or I is responsible for the actions of the U.S. Attorney for the District of Idaho, or that those actions are anything but praiseworthy."
Disdainfully turning from Lenihan, Nolan fixed his gaze on Bond. "Your Honor," he said more quietly, "everyone knows the identity of the U.S. Attorney's ultimate superior—Ms. Costello's brother-in-law, the President of the United States. A man who, whatever his dignity of rank, is also a witness in this case, and subject to this Court's order.
"What appears to be at work here is a conspiracy, involving plaintiff's counsel and the White House, to evade that order. The leaking of these documents to CNN serves that end. Palpably, they have nothing to do with the U.S. Attorney in Idaho, and everything to do with seizing legal and political advantage by any means at hand."
Listening, Sarah wondered if the President had known of the disclosure of Conn's documents. Then she realized that Bond was addressing her in biting tones. "What do you know about this, Ms. Dash?"
"Nothing," Sarah said, and was very glad that this was so. "As the Court knows, I disagree with this particular order. But it's not my right to flout it—even when I think that might serve a valid public purpose."