Balance of Power

Unless it stays between us, this call goes no further.'

    Lenihan paused, parsing the permutations of such a request. 'All right,' he answered in a businesslike tone. 'What's on your mind, Mr. Dane?'

    'That you're going to lose.'

    More from a sense of challenge than conviction, Lenihan laughed. 'Have you read Mike Reiner's deposition? I hear Fred Glass wasn't too great, either. I promise there's more to come.'

    'We know all about that,' Dane said with cold assurance. 'It doesn't matter. None of it does.'

    'And why is that?'

    'Because the House just voted to bar your lawsuit. By this time next week, the Senate will have done the same.'

    'The Senate's still in play,' Lenihan answered calmly. 'Thanks to Leo Weller. And if the Senate passes the Civil Justice Reform Act with a gun immunity provision, the President will veto it before you can open the champagne.'

    'If he does,' Dane answered in tones so somber that the word sepulchral popped into Lenihan's mind, 'Kilcannon is finished. The least of which is that the Senate will override his vote.'

    Now Lenihan laughed aloud. 'This conversation is happening in the Twilight Zone. No wonder you don't want me to repeat it.'

    Dane laughed as well, but softly. 'I don't want you repeating it, because you don't know what it means. Or nearly enough about your President.

    'You're an amateur, Robert. You think castrating Leo Weller is the ultimate in realpolitik. That's why you're going to lose.'

    Lenihan's amusement vanished: the thought that Dane was overdoing it was superseded by the disturbing realization that the man who had called him was a far different proposition than the indignant populist patriot who had spoken on the Mall. 'And so you want me to be emotionally prepared? Nonsense. You're worried about this lawsuit, and you damned well should be.'

    'Worried? No. I'm allowing you to make a choice. One choice is to be the trial lawyer who not only had the Costello case snatched out from under him but, by bringing it, helped bring about the passage of the most comprehensive tort reform in our history. As matters stand, you teeter on self-parody. That would make you a buffoon.'

    Stung, Lenihan fought back the instinct to respond in kind. Dane's laser focus on his fears—public humiliation, the loss of political power and legal reputation was far too telling. 'And the second choice?' he inquired coldly.

    'Settle the case. Before our allies in the Senate pass gun immunity, then override Kilcannon's veto.'

    Though he had known this must be coming, Lenihan felt the residue of surprise. 'Merits or politics aside,' he answered, 'I can't settle this case alone. I've got cocounsel to consult, and our client is the ultimate decision- maker.'

    'We've been wondering who your client is. But not much.'

    'Mary Costello,' Lenihan snapped.

    Dane emitted the same quiet laugh. 'Assuming that's true,' he answered, 'then you've got no need whatever to consult with Sarah Dash.'

    Lenihan paused. More softly, he asked, 'What are you suggesting?'

    'That Mary Costello can continue on as her sister's puppet—the plaintiff in an aborted case—or ten million dollars richer. Minus the three-million-plus dollars which go to your firm.'

    Lenihan's own laugh was a startled reflex. 'You are scared.'

    'Talk to your client,' Dane retorted calmly. 'Or by next week your lawsuit will be worth its weight in Tsarist Russian bonds.'

TWENTY-THREE

On the morning that John Nolan cross-examined Dr. David Roper, the atmosphere in the sterile interior conference room of the Kilcannon Center was quiet, the cluster of lawyers sober and silent.

    Roper was Sarah's final expert, a professor at Columbia with a doctorate in public health, whose work focused on refuting the assertion that increased gun ownership makes Americans safer. In manner, Roper was the opposite of Dr. Glass: clipped and precise, a scholar who conveyed his passion through a seriousness of speech and attitude. As an expert witness, Roper was allowed under Bond's order to review all depositions, and he had done so with great care. 'What Fred Glass practices,' he told Nolan flatly, 'is theology, not science. The myth of self-defense is as essential to the SSA as the biblical theory of Creation is to fundamentalism: without it, their belief system—their whole rationale for being—crumbles.'

    Nolan studied him. 'Why,' he inquired, 'do you call the belief in armed self-defense a myth?'

    Dark and lean, Roper returned the intensity of Nolan's gaze. 'Because it ignores what social scientists call 'opportunity theory': the more of something there is, the more that something is likely to be used. And misused.

    'In particular, Dr. Glass overlooks how firearms enhance the opportunity to kill.' Roper counted his points on the fingers of his left hand. 'First, you can kill at a far greater distance. Second, you can kill at far greater safety to yourself. Third, you can kill with far more certainty. Fourth, the decision to kill becomes irrevocable far more quickly—unlike a knife, you can't pull back a bullet.' Glancing at Harrison Fancher, he finished, 'Using 'scientists' like Dr. Glass, the gun lobby not only perpetuates its myth of self-defense, it actually strips us of the means of genuine self-defense. Because it has the political power to convert quack science into tragedy.'

    'When you say 'quack science,' ' Nolan asked with some asperity, 'do you include Dr. Glass's testimony?'

    The witness nodded briskly. 'Fred Glass is the gun lobby's equivalent of the scientists the tobacco companies employed to 'disprove' that smoking causes lung cancer. Glass starts with the result he wants, then finds the 'facts' to support it.'

    Nolan's scrutiny of Roper became at once clinical, wary, and determined, as though he was resolved to learn the worst that faced him. 'What has your research suggested regarding the correlation between public safety and gun ownership?'

    'That gun ownership diminishes the public safety.' Roper leaned on his elbows, hands clasped in front of him, intently watching his interrogator. 'There are an estimated sixty-five million handguns in America. This is reflected in the high firearms death rate among our citizens, nearly fourteen per one hundred thousand people—as opposed to Canada's roughly four, Australia's three, and England's less than one.

    'Compare Seattle with Vancouver, Canada. They are remarkably similar in about every respect save one: handguns are easy to obtain in Seattle, and tightly restricted in Vancouver. Their rates of crime and violence are also similar; indeed the rates of burglary, robbery, and assault are virtually identical. The only difference is that Seattle's homicide rate is sixty-three percent higher. Why? Because the rate of homicides with handguns is five times higher in Seattle . . .'

    'What pertinence—if any—does the homicide rate in Seattle have to Mary Costello's claim against Lexington Arms?'

    This time, Roper cupped his palms; the frequent movements of his hands, Sarah realized, bespoke a passion repressed. 'There are several correlations. Last year, handguns like the Lexington P-2 were used to murder slightly over twelve hundred women. Fifty-six percent of those women were killed by husbands, live-in partners, or current or exboyfriends. And, like Bowden, one-third of those who murdered killed themselves.