'There are several good reasons,' the Attorney General began at once, 'to intervene in support of the State of California.
'To start, most of our party colleagues voted to pass AEDPA. Before that, the Republicans were pillorying us with stories of mass murderers and child molesters stringing out appeal after appeal and then laughing at the victims' families in open court—'
'I remember. We weren't just soft on murderers, we were their nannies.'
Encouraged, Pinkerton leaned forward, pressing his argument. 'Legally, the purpose of AEDPA is wholly legitimate—balancing a prisoner's right to prove his innocence with society's right to finality. That's the essence of California's argument to the Supreme Court. Which brings me to our real problem, Caroline Masters.'
Glancing at the First Lady, Clayton saw her eyes narrow with displeasure. 'No one,' Pinkerton told the President, 'admires you more than I for sticking by her nomination after she and that damned Ninth Circuit ruled in favor of so-called partial birth abortion. But you won that nomination by a single vote. Out in the country, God knows how many votes you lost—'
'Or won,' the President objected mildly. 'People will put up with a President they disagree with. But they won't tolerate one who doesn't know who he is.'
'Too many people,' Pinkerton said regretfully, 'however deluded, think they know exactly who you are—an East Coast liberal. And they don't like it.
'The probable Republican nominee is Frank Fasano, who's as ruthless as they come. A Supreme Court ruling which erodes capital punishment will give Fasano another weapon to pummel you with from now to next November. Caroline Masters owes you—you're the only reason she's there.' Glancing at Avi Gold, the Attorney General finished. 'You can't call Masters and tell her what to do. But if Avi intervenes, as I've directed, it sends a signal even the Chief Justice can't ignore. And it gives us cover in the next election.'
Scooping up a wriggling Jamie, the President placed him in his lap, trying to direct the baby's gaze toward Avram Gold. 'So why shouldn't I be reelected?' he asked Gold. 'Inquiring minds would care to know.'
Gold smiled at this. 'Call me an idealist, Mr. President. But I believe in an America where you get reelected and we don't execute the innocent.'
'Are you trying to interest me in the merits, Avi? I'm a practical politician.'
'So's Mr. Justice Fini. Word is that he initiated this invitation from the Court to the Solicitor General, hoping we'd give death a little shove.' Pressing his palms together, Gold fixed the President with a look of deep conviction. 'I know you're up for reelection. But something about this case is rancid—'
'Yes,' Pinkerton interjected, 'the asphyxiation of a little girl during oral copulation. Price's brother admitted guilt, and there's ample evidence of his own. Tony Fini's put you in a box—'
'But what kind of box?' the President interrupted. 'Last night, I reread one of Herbert's columns. I voted for AEDPA, it's true. But I'll admit to some disquiet about executing a man based on the testimony of someone who's used the Fifth Amendment to avoid questions about his own involvement.'
Gold nodded vigorously. 'We're not asking Congress to repeal AEDPA—let alone the death penalty. But I'm not sure why this administration should go out of its way, at the invitation of Anthony Fini, to help ensure that this particular man is executed. And if the Masters Court allows one possibly innocent defendant to escape death, it's not a threat to the Republic just because a bunch of right-wingers say it is.'
It was a shrewd thrust, Clayton thought, appealing to Kilcannon's pride. When he turned to Kerry—hoping to urge caution—he saw a glance pass between the President and First Lady, the trace of a smile surface in the President's eyes.
Only the Attorney General seemed oblivious to what had just occurred. 'Let's stay out of this one,' the President told him. 'Leave the Chief Justice to her own devices.' Bending to kiss the crown of his son's head, he told the infant, 'After all, Jamie, it's not like I'm coming out against executing innocent retarded people.'
Across from them, the First Lady smiled to herself, and Clayton knew that the subject was closed.
SEVEN
THE PRELUDE TO ORAL ARGUMENT IN THE CASE OF RENNELL PRICE was, to its participants within the Court, a minuet of indirection.
Two weeks before the argument, over a drink in Justice Fini's chambers—two fingers of single-malt scotch on ice—Fini inquired of Adam Wendt, 'What do you hear about where Justice Glynn is leaning?'
'Nothing yet.'
Fini considered this. 'I certainly don't want to push him,' he told Adam. 'McGeorge likes to keep his counsel, and I respect that. But if you happen to hear anything from one of his clerks . . .'
Which was why, though Callista Hill did not know it, Adam Wendt glanced up from chatting in the clerks' private lunch room with Elizabeth Burke, the clerk on whom Justice Glynn relied to monitor the death list, and shifted the conversation before Callista joined them. But all Adam had learned from Elizabeth was that Glynn remained noncommittal.
This was also why—though Callista again did not know it—Justice Fini directed Adam to prepare a memo to the three other justices who had voted to grant California's petition, spelling out the reasons for a unified vote to reverse the Ninth Circuit's opinion. But Bill Faber, one of Justice Millar's clerks, found the memo curious enough to hit a button on his computer and blind-copy it to his friend Callista Hill.
The Chief Justice read Fini's memo with a reflective air. 'Prepare a draft reply memo,' she told Callista. 'I can hear the next shoe dropping.'
The next shoe, it transpired, was a Fini-gram to all nine justices, proposing summary reversal of the Ninth Circuit ruling. Its author, Adam Wendt, was startled by the swiftness of the Chief Justice's reply. 'It's like she saw us coming,' he observed to Justice Fini.
Fini merely chuckled.
* * *
