"Under 'existing law,' we took away John Bowden's gun at the time of his arrest.
"Under 'existing law,' we entered his name into a computer, so that he could not buy another gun from a federally licensed dealer." Once more, Kilcannon's voice was etched with irony. "And so—under 'existing law'—John Bowden flew to Las Vegas and bought a gun and a magazine which could hold forty Eagle's Claw bullets.
"Under 'existing law,' 'private sellers' at gun shows don't have to run background checks before they sell a gun.
"Under 'existing law,' the provisions limiting gun magazines to ten bullets don't apply to those manufactured before the law was passed." Yet again, Kerry's voice softened. "Under 'existing law,' the eleventh bullet from her father's gun murdered Marie Bowden . . ."
At this, Fasano turned to Harshman. "You'd better have an answer," he said under his breath.
"How," Kilcannon asked, "did Bowden come to buy this gun? Because he read two advertisements in The Defender magazine.
"The first warned that the Lexington P-2 was an endangered species, 'banned in California.' " Briefly, Kilcannon shook his head in wonder. "And just in case John Bowden would not know where else to buy one, The Defender placed it next to an advertisement for a gun show in Las Vegas, featuring the Lexington P-2."
* * *
"They can't read a dead man's mind," Bill Campton said to Dane. "No one can prove where he bought that gun, or why."
"Kilcannon," Dane answered, "doesn't concern himself with fairness. Let alone the niceties of evidence."
Under "existing law," Kilcannon continued, the maker of this deadly weapon placed it in John Bowden's hands . . .
* * *
Listening, Chad Palmer glanced at his Republican colleague, Cassie Rollins. Her profile—the short blonde hair, the angular face of the athlete she had been—was still. Her attention was more than justified: in Maine, where Cassie would run for reelection, guns and hunting were ingrained.
"The essence of this tragedy," the President said in an incisive tone, "is that it makes no sense. Especially to the many millions of responsible gun owners who know these simple truths:
"That no 'sportsman' uses weapons that will kill twenty deer—or twenty people—in less than twenty seconds.
"That no 'marksman' uses bullets designed to tear human flesh to shreds.
"That no act of self-defense requires a gun designed for acts of war.
"That no license to hunt deer rests on the license to hunt down women and children.
"That no freedom in our Bill of Rights frees criminals and terrorists to turn those rights against us . . ."
All at once the gallery was standing, with the Democrats launching a wave of applause and cheers that seemed as though it would not stop. Awkwardly, the Republicans rose as well, most, like Fasano, applauding tepidly. Paul Harshman, Palmer observed, stood with folded arms.
"The SSA," Cassie murmured to Chad, "will have to go all out."
* * *
As the applause continued, Charles Dane went to his wet bar and poured himself a bourbon and water. "Universal background checks," he said to Fell and Campton. "That's where this is headed."
Fell shook her head. "Too big a stretch. He must know he'll never pass it."
Dane took his first sip of bourbon. "Do you?"
Under "existing law," Kilcannon called out through the applause, criminals are prohibited from buying guns. But forty percent of gun purchases are made through private sellers—often at gun shows—whom "existing law" does not require to run background checks to see if the buyer is prohibited.
"Existing law," in short, is an honor code for criminals . . .
Dane emitted a short laugh.
For too long, Kilcannon continued, the debate about guns has been a matter of faith and fear, driven by a fanatic few who just can't sleep at night unless they feel that someone, somewhere is out to get them. Kilcannon paused again, and then said in a clear, commanding voice, No longer.
No longer should this fanatic few be allowed to claim that commonsense laws to prevent criminals from buying weapons are the first step to confiscation by a tyrannical government of their imagining.
No longer should they be heard to say that our only defense against criminals is to buy more guns, until America is an armed camp of the lawless and the fearful, and the body count which follows dwarfs the carnage we know today . . .
His listeners rose yet again. "We need Democrats," Dane instructed Carla Fell. "That's the only way to ensure that no president, Republican or Democrat, feels free to make this kind of speech again."
As the applause died down, Kilcannon's voice became soft with scorn. The same magazine that directed John Bowden to his Lexington P-2 told its readers that our only means of crime prevention is "meeting evil force with proven protection" through "armed self-defense for all peaceful Americans." If only Mae Morgan had been quicker on the draw, I suppose this means, her son Louis would not be, effectively, an orphan.
On the screen, Louis Morgan appeared in close-up, listening with stolid grief. Beside him, Lara Kilcannon touched his arm.
"No shame," Bill Campton said.
All of us, Kilcannon called out, owe Louis Morgan better.
Once more, the listeners rose, applauding. "That's the fourteenth standing ovation," Carla Fell reported.
* * *
"Eighty-three percent," Kit Pace said in wonder.
With deep satisfaction, Clayton smiled. "A dinner at D C Coast says he hits eighty-five."
"You're on. For eighty-five, I'd gladly throw in a bottle of wine."
Some will say, the President said softly, that this is personal to me.
It is. It is also personal to the families of Henry Serrano, David Walsh, Laura Blanchard, Mae Morgan, and to the millions of other Americans who have lost a parent, a child, or husband; or who've been maimed or paralyzed, their dreams forever shattered; or who live in fear for themselves and those they love.
Kerry stood straighter, his voice determined. There is only this difference: I am the President. And I will act . . .