“They’ll have to ask hard questions because that’s what they do. But remember, secretly they’ll be cheering you on. If you stumble, they’ll ask a softball question so you can end strong.”
“And then there’s Fox and Friends, ” Kelly said.
“Even there, they’ll have to be careful how hard they push. There’s a lot of sympathy for your client.”
At each studio, Jeff Chapman introduced her to the producers and makeup crews, chitchatting with them like old friends. Kelly breezed through the first few interviews, her only disappointment being that Matt Lauer was taking the day off. Her third interview, ABC’s Good Morning America, was smooth sailing until Diane Sawyer popped the experience question: “If you don’t mind my asking, how long have you been practicing law?”
“Five years,” Kelly replied. She had flashed her smile often that morning, on the advice of Jeff Chapman. But she didn’t smile now. “I’m the same age Rachel Crawford was when she was gunned down.”
“Great answer!” Jeff said after the interview. All morning long, he had been telling her that she was a natural.
I could get used to this, Kelly thought.
CNN was probably her best interview. They had assembled a whole package of graphics based on the statistics Kelly had highlighted in her lawsuit. As an extra bonus, they had uncovered some details about several other crimes involving guns sold by Peninsula Arms, particularly the MD-9. Toward the end of the interview, they actually produced an MD-9 on the set, assuring Kelly it was not loaded.
It looked evil, lying on the anchor desk-flat and boxy, dull black with a blunt barrel. “Do you think guns like this should be legal?” the anchor asked.
In response, Kelly launched into her speech about why criminals prefer guns like the MD-9. Law-abiding citizens have no use for them, she argued. And the NRA can no longer use the slippery slope argument, saying if we outlaw guns like this we will eventually come after hunting rifles and pistols. The Supreme Court took that possibility away in the Heller case.
Fifteen minutes later, Kelly was being whisked into the less friendly environs of the Fox News studios. Jeff made his usual round of introductions and Kelly was ushered into makeup. As she climbed into the chair, Jeff explained that he had some other pressing appointments and had to run. This was her last interview. Kelly should just call a cab to take her back to the hotel. Jeff would meet her there for lunch.
Kelly thanked him and settled into the chair while a perky young woman touched up the makeup that had been layered on at the other shows. “You don’t need much help from me,” the woman said.
“Thanks.”
“You’ve got about five minutes before they start your segment,” the woman said when she had finished. “The greenroom is right down the hall.”
Kelly thanked her and headed to the greenroom. Things had been happening so fast all morning, she needed a few minutes to clear her head. So far, she had survived her media baptism relatively unscathed. One more interview and she could return to the safety of her office in D.C.
The Fox News greenroom was a clone of the other greenrooms Kelly had seen that morning. A sofa, a few leather chairs, a coffee table, and a large mirror on a side wall. Plaques hung around the room along with signed photos from celebrities expressing best wishes to the hosts. Munchies and drinks lined a table along one wall, while a flat-screen LCD television broadcast Fox News on the other. A middle-aged man with a full head of gray hair was talking to a razor-thin and diminutive woman in the middle of the room. They stopped talking when Kelly entered.
The man extended a meaty hand. “I’m Congressman Parker,” he said.
He looked older in real life, his skin wrinkled and beginning to spot. He was a conservative icon, sixty-five or seventy years old, certainly no fan of gun litigation.
“Kelly Starling.”
They shook hands, Parker squeezing hard enough to send a message. “I know who you are.”
Kelly ignored the comment and extended her hand to the woman standing in front of her. She estimated the woman to be about five-two or -three and could tell she was wound tight.
Maybe it was because Kelly had just sued her company.
Melissa Davids ignored Kelly’s outstretched hand. Kelly smiled and withdrew it.
“I didn’t know we were appearing together,” Kelly said.
“Now you do,” Davids responded.
16
Kelly saw no reason to get into a big argument in the greenroom. “It’s nothing personal,” she said. “I’m just representing my client.”
She started to walk away and take a seat, but Davids had other ideas. “Have you ever been raped?” she asked.
Kelly stared at her for a second, sure she’d misunderstood the question. “Excuse me?”
“I was. At age sixteen. I spent two years learning jujitsu and was assaulted again at age eighteen. That’s when I bought my first gun.” Davids took a half step closer and lowered her voice. “Nobody’s touched me since.”
This woman is hard-core.
“Look, I know you mean well,” Davids continued. “You’re no doubt one of those big-hearted liberals all fired up about women’s issues. You want to empower women?”
Kelly crossed her arms, choosing not to respond.
“Teach them to shoot. A gun is a woman’s best friend.”
If Kelly hadn’t heard it with her own ears, she probably wouldn’t have believed it. Davids was like a character from a comic book.
“Thanks for the advice,” Kelly said.
The fireworks started again as soon as Kelly and Davids were situated next to each other on the set. For most of the segment, Kelly felt like she was being cross-examined by the show’s host with Davids looking for fun places to pile on. On a few occasions, Davids interrupted Kelly’s answer, raising her voice until Kelly let her talk.
“We’ve been sued thirteen times when some psycho uses one of our guns in a crime,” Davids said, her eyes narrowing. “We’ve been sued in New York, San Francisco, Boston, Philadelphia, and Detroit.” She paused for emphasis. “We’ve yet to pay a dime. The only people making money in these cases are the lawyers, not the victims.”
“Those were different legal theories,” Kelly countered. “Based on your design and marketing of the gun. This case is different. It’s about supplying the black market-”
“That’s no difference,” Davids interrupted. “That’s just lawyer talk.”
Both women argued at once but this time Kelly spoke louder. “I’m not finished!” she said emphatically. “I let you finish; I’d appreciate the same courtesy.”
The host smiled and held up his hands. “One at a time,” he said. “Ms. Starling first and then Ms. Davids can respond.”
“Our firm is taking the case pro bono, ” Kelly said. “Every dollar recovered goes to the client. In addition-”
“And I suppose you aren’t in it for the publicity, either,” Davids sarcastically interjected. “Which is why you’ve sprinted from one morning show to the next all day long.”
“You’re not very good at letting people finish,” Kelly countered. She knew this tit-for-tat made them both look stupid; she needed to get back to her talking points.
“She’s right,” the host said, grinning at the fireworks.
“Are you honestly saying you didn’t know that Peninsula Arms was a rogue dealer?” Kelly asked. “You never watched the videotapes of New York City undercover agents conducting straw purchases at Peninsula Arms? You didn’t know about the 251 guns used in crimes traced to Peninsula Arms in 2006? The media was all over this stuff-how could you not know?”
