Left unsaid were the complexity of Kerry's own feelings. After Kerry's older brother, Senator James Kilcannon, had been assassinated while running for President, Kerry—as a matter of private conscience—had asked the prosecution not to seek the assassin's execution. Yet Senator Kilcannon's death, which had propelled Kerry toward the presidency, haunted him still. 'It's what Americans believe in,' Clayton responded with the same air of calm. 'During the last election you claimed to believe in it, too.' Clayton took a brief sip of his diet cola, adding pointedly, 'If you hadn't, Mr. President, you wouldn't be President.'
'Oh, I know.' Kerry emitted a sigh of resignation. 'What's this contretemps about?'
'AEDPA. You voted for it, as you'll recall—'
'I try not to, actually.'
'Anyhow, the Supreme Court's about to hear a death penalty case involving a prisoner named Rennell Price. You may have seen Bob Herbert's columns in the Times.'
Reflective, the President rested an elbow on one arm of the wing chair, propping his face in the palm of his hand. 'It's coming back to me,' he said. 'From the evidence, it sounded like he might well be innocent, and another man guilty.'
'So his lawyers claim. But that's not the crux of our problem.' Clayton finished his cola. 'The Ninth Circuit issued an opinion that can be read to soften AEDPA. Your Attorney General and the head of his Criminal Division want the Solicitor General to support sharply restricting the rights of habeas corpus petitioners—like Price—to prove their innocence. Your new Solicitor General is balking.'
Clayton watched the President consider this: the S.G., Avram Gold, had been his personal lawyer, and for a number of reasons, the President was in his debt. 'What's Avi want?' he asked.
'Avi Gold,' Clayton said with a touch of weariness, 'is a civil libertarian. He hates the death penalty. He hates this statute, always has. So he wants us to stay out.'
'Is that such a bad idea? What if Price is innocent?'
'Nobody will go blaming you,' Clayton answered. 'But if Avi Gold had his way, all you'd carry is the faculty room at Harvard.
'We've got capital punishment because that's what most Americans want, by roughly three to one. The people who don't want it—civil rights groups and social liberals—have got no one to vote for but us. But if Caroline Masters and her Court do something funky with the death penalty, the Republicans will come after you like hell won't have it.'
Kerry smiled quizzically. 'Is that what the Attorney General wants us to say?'
Silent, Clayton fought to repress his exasperation. With an intimacy and candor the President permitted him alone, he said softly, 'Don't be perverse, Kerry. I understand what you wrestled with after Jamie was killed. But the difference between your presidency and that of some Republican is way too important to put at risk. Not to mention how you'd feel about losing.'
'I appreciate the sentiment,' Kerry answered with equal quiet. 'That's why I voted for AEDPA, after all.'
The President's ambivalence was unmistakable. 'I guess you've decided to hear Avi out,' Clayton said.
'Both of them—Avi and the A.G. Toward the end of lunch tomorrow.'
'Isn't that your time with Lara and the baby?'
'Uh-huh.' Kerry smiled again. 'I'm making whoever loses change his diapers.'
* * *
Though named after Kerry Kilcannon's older brother, at seven months of age James Joseph Kilcannon already had his father's blue-green eyes and inquisitive expression. But Jamie's raven hair and pale skin were Lara's.
Pausing in the doorway, Clayton found them sitting on a carpet in the middle of the Oval Office. They made a lovely picture, as numerous photographers had captured: the young First Lady whose beauty, derived from her Latina mother, had—combined with talent and a fierce will to succeed—helped make her a celebrated television journalist; the infant discovering the world on his hands and knees; the President to whom this child, their first, was an endless source of wonder and delight. Shadowed by the grimness of his childhood, Kerry thought of Jamie as a miracle, for whose happiness and wholeness Kerry would have sacrificed anything but Lara. Jamie, knowing none of this, simply found his father very silly.
Now, captivated by some piece of absurd behavior by the President, Jamie emitted a gurgling laugh. 'What he's going to remember about his childhood,' Lara told her husband, 'is wondering if his father was demented.'
'He won't be the first,' Kerry answered and then looked up at Clayton.
Clayton smiled at the First Lady. 'The real world intrudes.'
'This is the real world,' Lara corrected. 'The rest of you are makebelieve.'
'I've often wondered about that.'
Standing, the President offered Lara his hand. 'Anyhow,' Kerry directed Clayton, 'send in the holograms.'
With this, Clayton ushered in the Attorney General, J. Theron Pinkerton, a silver-haired former Senate colleague of Kerry's from Louisiana, and the Solicitor General, Avram Gold, a mustached and bespectacled ex-Harvard law professor who seemed to burn calories just standing still. As they made their apologies to Lara and she began gathering Jamie's toys, the President said to her, 'Why don't you stick around. You may find this interesting.'
Kerry, Clayton recognized at once, meant for Lara's presence to mute the antagonism between the Attorney General and Avi Gold, Pinkerton's subordinate. That Pinkerton now felt offended was plain—he sat as far from the Solicitor General as possible, barely deigning to acknowledge him. 'Before we get into this,' the President told Pinkerton, 'I want it understood that Justice is your shop, not Avi's. The only reason you're here is Herbert's column, and the public controversy which may arise once the Court decides the case. I don't expect to be in any more meetings like this. On any subject.'
Mollified, Pinkerton nodded. Avi Gold looked contrite—annoying Kerry Kilcannon was not for the faint of heart. The President turned to Pinkerton. 'You first, Pink.'
