Balance of Power

    'Which one? The SSA?'

    Staring at the table, Callister had seemed to turn inward—most likely, Sarah thought, out of distaste for the whole proceeding. Crisply, she told Lenihan, 'Let's call the judge right now.'

    At once, Sarah rose, took a speakerphone from the corner of the conference room, and placed it on the center of the table. Glancing at her notes, she stabbed out Bond's number, and asked for the law clerk assigned to Costello versus Lexington Arms.

    'We're in the middle of Mr. Callister's deposition,' she explained. 'A discovery dispute has arisen—an instruction to the witness not to answer questions essential to our case. We're hoping to speak with Judge Bond, describe the issues, and ask for an immediate ruling.'

    'Very well.' The clerk's reedy voice was pompous with borrowed authority. 'I'll find out what we want to do.'

    He put Sarah on hold. Silent, lawyers and witness gazed at the speakerphone as if it were a line to God. The room felt hot and close.

    After a few minutes, interminable to Sarah, the clerk returned. 'If there's a problem, plaintiff's counsel should file a motion. The judge says he'll rule in the normal course.'

    The answer struck Sarah in the pit of her stomach. 'Thank you,' she managed to say. The obligatory words had never felt more hateful.

    When the clerk hung up, Nolan was the first to speak, the softness of his voice betraying his residual tension. 'Why don't we have lunch, Sarah? The witness has been going long enough.'

* * *

    Eating a ham sandwich with Lenihan in her office, Sarah tried to bank her outrage. At least Nolan had given her time to think.

    'There's something here,' she speculated, 'that Callister doesn't like.'

    Lenihan slumped in his chair, a portrait of frustration. 'Yeah. Mike Reiner.'

    Sarah put down the sandwich, gazing out her window at the uneven skyline south of Market Street. 'There's something else, I think. I just don't know if I can get to what it is.'

* * *

    Returning from lunch, Callister looked somber, all trace of humor vanished. 'After your fellow CEOs cut off Martin Bresler,' Sarah began, 'did President Kilcannon contact you directly?'

    'Yes. We met three times at Camp David.'

    'What did the President discuss with you?'

    Callister hesitated, eyes narrow with thought, as though still reluctant to divulge his private conversations with the President of the United States. 'A potential agreement, brokered by the President with the thirteen cities who'd sued us, to end their litigation against Lexington Arms.' His tone took on the edge of self-justification. 'A single hundred-million-dollar verdict would wipe out Lexington Arms. The legal fees alone could drain us of our profits. If the President could offer a way out, I thought we should explore it.'

    'What was Lexington's side of the deal?'

    'Though I couldn't admit that to the President, he was asking for a lot of what I thought we should do anyhow. Phase out the P-2 and the Eagle's Claw. Require background checks at gun shows.' Briefly, Callister grimaced. 'He also wanted us to retrofit our weapons to accommodate only magazines with a maximum of ten rounds.'

    This tacit reference to the murder of Marie Costello prompted Nolan to glance at Callister. 'Did the President propose anything else?' Sarah asked.

    'Not directly. But he acknowledged that we'd need money to offset the phaseout of the P-2, and suggested that it was possible to obtain a federal research grant from the Justice Department to help us develop smart guns —guns designed to fire only in response to the 'fingerprint' of the actual owner.'

    'What was your reaction?'

    Callister ran a hand through the grey stubble of his crew cut. 'That it would be hard to reach agreement without support from other gun companies, but that it was still worth trying.' He looked briefly at Harrison Fancher. 'I thought if we could agree on the outlines of a deal, in private, I could try to bring in some of the other manufacturers. So I told the President I'd take it to our board of directors.'

    Gazing at the pen she twisted in her fingers, Sarah pondered her next question. 'Before you went to the board, did you discuss President Kilcannon's proposal with anyone at Lexington?'

    'I didn't want the negotiations leaking. But I spoke with Ray Stipe, our general counsel.' Pausing, Callister added in a neutral voice, 'Also with Mike Reiner.'

    'George,' Nolan interjected, 'were your discussions with Mr. Stipe for the purpose of obtaining legal advice?'

    'They were.'

    'Then they're covered by the attorney-client privilege and I instruct you not to disclose them.'

    Callister nodded, then turned back to Sarah. 'Mr. Stipe aside,' she inquired, 'why did you consult with Mr. Reiner?'

    'He was our VP of marketing. Much of the implementation of our agreement would have been up to him.'

    'Did Reiner express a view of the President's proposal?'

    'Yes. He was vehemently opposed.'

    'Oh what grounds?'

    'That the President was asking us to be the canary in the mine shaft.' Callister's tone became cooler. 'Reiner had helped develop the P-2 and the Eagle's Claw, and thought they were essential to fighting off our competition. He said accepting Kilcannon's plan was tantamount to suicide.'

    'Were Mr. Reiner's objections the reason that Lexington did not reach agreement with the President?'

    'They were not,' Callister answered firmly. 'In my view the P-2 and Eagle's Claw were a dead end, and my job was to wean us from trying to outdo the other guys in making deadly weapons and lethal bullets. So I told Reiner I was going to the board.'

    'And did you?'

    'Yes. I didn't want to put anything in writing. So I verbally outlined the President's proposal and asked them to consider it.'

    'What was the board's reaction?'

    'There was a lot of uncertainty and concern. But they authorized me to meet further with the President.'

    'Did that happen?'

    Callister seemed to draw a long, slow breath. 'No.'

    'And why not?'

    'Because I received a phone call from Charles Dane.'

    'Concerning what?'

    'He said that he'd heard about my negotiations with the President, and requested a private meeting.'

    At once, both Nolan and Fancher seemed hyperalert, poised to intervene. Pausing, Sarah sought to frame a question which would avoid an instruction not to answer. 'How did Mr. Dane learn about the negotiations?'

    'I can't imagine it was Stipe.' Callister summoned a tight smile, more to himself than for Sarah. 'That leaves Reiner, or a member of our board.'

    'Did you meet with Mr. Dane?'

    'Yes. At the offices of the SSA.'

    At the corner of her eye, Sarah watched Nolan. 'Was anyone else there?'

    'No.' Callister's voice was flat, his features immobile. 'Dane said he wanted to work things out alone.'