Balance of Power

    Sarah placed a hand on Lenihan's arm. 'Let it go,' she whispered. 'You're making things worse.'

    Lenihan turned to her, flushed. 'How could I?' he whispered back in an accusing tone. 'You based an entire complaint on the word of this fucking weasel.'

    Expressionless, Nolan sat there as if nothing had happened. After a silence consumed by Pritchard's continuing stare at Lenihan, Pritchard turned to Nolan, and nodded.

    'Did there come a time,' Nolan asked Bresler, 'that you discussed with President Kilcannon a possible agreement regarding voluntary background checks at gun shows?'

    'Yes.'

    'Did you discuss that proposal with anyone from the SSA?'

    Bresler shook his head. 'I had no need. I knew Charles was opposed.'

    As Nolan sat back, placing a pen to his lips, Harrison Fancher trained a fixed gaze on the witness. Still Bresler did not look up.

    'For what reason,' Nolan asked, 'did you and the President fail to reach agreement regarding gun shows?'

    Bresler bit his lip. 'My trade association disbanded.'

    'For what reason?'

    'I lost the support of my members.' Bresler's tone was soft, almost rote. 'I got carried away with myself, and tried to move too fast. The companies I represented weren't comfortable with that.'

    'How do you know that?'

    'Three CEOs called me—a majority. They felt I was splitting the gun movement, being too high profile. In retrospect, they were right.'

    It was perjury as recantation, Sarah thought, a confession of error worthy of a Stalinist show trial, delivered in the manner of a beaten man. And she could only watch.

    'Did any of these CEOs,' Nolan asked, 'attribute their attitudes to the SSA?'

    'No.'

    'Do you have any basis for believing that the SSA did anything to disband your organization?'

    Bresler shook his head, a vague, disheartened gesture. 'No.'

    'Did you ever discuss the SSA with Mr. Callister?'

'I did not.'

    Nolan leaned forward. 'In short, Mr. Bresler, are you aware of any basis in plaintiff's complaint for the allegation that the SSA controls Lexington Arms?'

    With an expectant glance, Pritchard turned to Bresler. Hunching farther in his chair, Bresler responded, 'None whatsoever.'

    Savagely, Lenihan whispered, 'Except for you, you little fuck.'

    This time Pritchard ignored him. 'Indeed,' Nolan continued, 'didn't the SSA hire your top aide, Jerry Kirk?'

    Bresler's nod was almost as imperceptible as his voice was hushed. 'Yes.'

    'And how did that happen?'

    There was a brief pause. 'Charles Dane hired Jerry,' Bresler answered, 'as a favor to me. I was worried about Jerry's family.'

    Stunned, Sarah stared at him. But Bresler had yet to look at her. 'And so,' Nolan concluded, 'as far as you know, Charles Dane's only action in connection with the disbanding of your group was the benign one of hiring Jerry Kirk.'

    'Yes.'

    With this, Sarah thought, Bresler's subjugation was complete. 'Did there come a time,' Nolan asked,'when you met with plaintiff's counsel—Mr. Lenihan and Ms. Dash?'

    Though Bresler raised his eyes at last, his tone and manner remained robotic. 'At Sea Ranch. Shortly before they filed their complaint.'

    'At whose initiative did it occur?'

    'Ms. Dash called me.'

    Nolan's expression became a barely perceptible smile. 'And who paid your expenses?'

    'Plaintiff's counsel.'

    'What was the purpose of the meeting?'

    Bresler's arms, still crossed in front of his chest, seemed to tighten around himself. 'As I understood it, they wanted to make a case against the SSA.'

    'On what did you base that understanding?'

    Bresler's shoulders twitched. 'Pretty much all they asked me about was the SSA.'

    'And what did you tell them?'

    It was strange, Sarah thought: now Bresler's gaze was trained on Nolan, as though steeling himself to complete his lie. 'Exactly what I just told you.'

'In all respects?' Nolan persisted.

Another brief pause. 'Yes.'

    'Did you discuss with plaintiff's counsel whether you'd execute an affidavit?'

    Silent, Lenihan scowled. 'Before we talked about what I'd say,' Bresler answered, 'Mr. Lenihan said that they might like one. Afterward they never mentioned it.'

    'And were you willing to give them an affidavit, saying what you've just said here?'

    'Yes.'

    Outraged, Lenihan half stood. Sarah, frozen, was filled with impotent fury at the extent of Bresler's betrayal. With a last brief smile, Nolan said, 'Thank you, Mr. Bresler.'

* * *

    Standing outside the conference room, Lenihan and Sarah whispered furiously.

    'No affidavit,' Lenihan said in a savage undertone. 'From the moment Bresler said that, we should have sent him packing. Instead you've given us a case without a basis.'

    'There is a basis. Bresler's lying.'

    'What a surprise.' Lenihan's tone dripped with venom. 'In my experience, the American justice system is one long and noble search for truth . . .'

    'They blackmailed him,' Sarah said. 'Or offered him something. Maybe a job if he recanted.'

    'Think so? My goodness, that might mean that Evan Pritchard is part of it. Imagine that kind of conduct from an officer of the court.'

    Sarah drew a breath. 'I'll cross-examine . . .'

    'No,' Lenihan cut in. 'They're mine. All of them.'

* * *

    Arms resting on the table, Lenihan leaned toward Bresler. Though Bresler's face was round, it seemed pinched, his expression miserable. 'Prior to today,' Lenihan began, 'have you discussed this case with anyone from the SSA?'

    Evan Pritchard raised a hand, signalling his client not to answer. 'Other than attorneys?' he said to Lenihan.