Marine One

36

GROSVENOR WAS THERE even before I got there at eight o'clock. The turmoil during the night had turned the court-watching news cycle into a twenty-four-hour breathless reality show. Everything was analyzed from every conceivable direction. There were calls to halt the trial, arrest Wayne Bradley, disbar me, disbar Hackett, sequester the jury, and indict WorldCopter; everything was on the public table. When I arrived, Grosvenor was sitting on the bench outside the courtroom. People were asking him who he was. He refused to identify himself to anyone and sat quietly in a dark suit with his legs crossed looking pissed. I didn't acknowledge him in any way. I walked by him and into the courtroom. Wayne Bradley was sitting in the front looking over his notes, and the gallery was filling from the daily line that began hours before trial commenced and snaked through the hall and down the front steps.

By the time the jury filed into the jury box and the gallery was full, the tension was higher than it had been since the first day of trial. Judge Betancourt took the bench, sat in her chair, and swiveled quickly toward Hackett. She glanced at the jury and the rest of the people in the courtroom and said, "Good morning. Mr. Hackett, did you want to cross-examine Dr. Bradley?"

Hackett stood and looked around the courtroom, then at the judge, and said, "No, Your Honor. All he's done is prove my punitive-damages case."

She nodded at him with a slightly annoyed look and looked to me. "You may call your next witness, Mr. Nolan."

"Your Honor, I'd like to call Marcel Remy."

Marcel stood up from the front row and walked to the witness stand. He raised his hand, took the oath, and sat down. Marcel explained his role as the chief accident investigator for WorldCopter. He described his work on the investigation of the crash of Marine One, his work with the NTSB, and told the jury of the investigation hangar, the layout of the wreckage, and the testing that had been conducted.

He then confirmed what Bradley had said, that the partial serial number on the tip weight Bradley had found almost certainly came from Marine One. I asked him several questions about the tip weights, the design of the tip weights, the drawings, and then I asked him the questions that were the reasons I had brought him on first.

"Marcel, are the tip weights x-rayed when they're received by WorldCopter?"

"No, of course not."

"Why is that?"

"They're not complex, they're just weights, pieces of metal. They're like washers. There is nothing to see."

"Does WorldCopter check them against the specifications to make sure they're the right size and weights?"

"Of course. They're measured and weighed."

"Does WorldCopter make the tip weights?"

"No."

I paused, making sure everyone was listening carefully. I waited for complete silence. I then asked quietly, "Who makes the tip weights, Marcel?"

"Chang Manufacturing."

"Where is Chang located?"

"In China. Well, not China exactly, the Republic of China. Or Taiwan. Whatever it is called."

"So not the People's Republic of China, but the island, Taiwan."

"Yes. Exactly."

I looked at Hackett. "Your witness."

Hackett stood, looking puzzled. "I don't have any questions for this witness, Your Honor. He simply confirmed that these tip weights were installed by WorldCopter."

The judge said to Marcel, "You may step down. Call your next witness, Mr. Nolan."

I said loudly, "Your Honor, WorldCopter would like to call at this time Mr. J. Mark Grosvenor."

Hackett looked at the witness list, then at me. He looked at the witness list again, then stood. "Your Honor, Mr. Grosvenor is not on the witness list."

"Is that right, Mr. Nolan?" the judge asked.

"Yes, Your Honor. I was unaware of Mr. Grosvenor until yesterday morning. I personally served him with a subpoena last night at his home in Bethesda. He's in the hallway."

Hackett wasn't going to relent. "Your Honor, I don't really care if he's in the hallway. What I care about is that he's not on the witness list. I have not had any opportunity to do any discovery against this witness, and I'm not prepared to cross-examine him. If this is a new witness with important information, I should be allowed to take his deposition and prepare."

Grosvenor stood behind the gate. I motioned him forward toward the witness stand. The judge said, "Let me see counsel at sidebar."

The court reporter picked her stenographic machine off its pedestal and followed Hackett and me to the side of the bench, where the judge had wheeled over for our conference. She said in a low voice, just above a whisper, "Mr. Nolan, why is this man not on the witness list? Who is he?"

I leaned forward. "Your Honor, Mr. Grosvenor is a Secret Service agent employed at the White House in the presidential detail. He was the head of security at Camp David. He will authenticate the photos that were discussed earlier, since he is the source, as well as provide additional testimony about who the president was going to see on the night of his death."

Hackett went absolutely red like he was going to explode. "Your Honor, this is potentially explosive testimony, and I am not prepared to cross-examine him. I need to take his deposition, explore whatever knowledge he has, and test that knowledge against reality. For all I know, this man could be a complete charlatan and a fake witness like Mr. Nolan has attempted to use in the preparation of-"

The judge wasn't having any of it. "Mr. Hackett, if he testifies under oath, you can test whatever theory you want. If Mr. Nolan only learned about his identity yesterday, he couldn't have put him on the witness list. Is that correct, Mr. Nolan?"

"That is correct, Your Honor. I didn't know his name until yesterday. My private investigator was murdered. The relationship that this Secret Service agent had with my private investigator was confidential and I was unaware of it. I knew he had information but I did not know his name. Mr. Byrd left an envelope for me in a safe-deposit box. Here is the note that was in that envelope that his wife gave to me yesterday."

The judge looked at it and nodded her head. "I'm going to mark this document as the court's next in order. It will not be admitted for the jury to see, but will be kept as part of the trial record. How did you receive this yesterday?"

"Mrs. Cherie Byrd, Tinny's wife. She came to my house. I had never met her before," I whispered. "And that's the first I knew of Mr. Grosvenor's identity."

"You may cross-examine him at your leisure, Mr. Hackett, and if there is severe injustice, we may provide time for you to take his deposition tonight or over the weekend if that's called for."

Hackett was furious. "This is completely irregular, Your Honor. I'm being sandbagged here."

"Not if what Mr. Nolan said here is true. Why don't you ask Mr. Grosvenor when he was first contacted by Mr. Nolan? You'll have time to cross-examine him. I'm going to allow this witness." With that, she turned her chair and moved back to the center of the bench. The court reporter picked up her machine and returned to her armless chair. Hackett sat down and I took my place at the center of the courtroom, in the center of the tornado.

The judge said, "You may take the stand, Mr. Grosvenor. Please swear the witness." The clerk swore Grosvenor in and he sat down in the seat.

I was glad that we were separated by fifteen feet. He looked as if he wanted to kill me. "Good morning, Mr. Grosvenor."

"Morning."

"You just told the clerk that your name was J. Mark Grosvenor. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Would you tell the jury your place of employment?"

"I'm employed by the United States Secret Service and I am assigned the White House detail."

"What is your particular area of responsibility?"

" Camp David."

The courtroom fell completely silent as everyone waited to hear his testimony.

"Sir, it's my understanding that on the night of the accident, the night that Marine One went down, you were at Camp David awaiting the president, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"We'll come back to that in a minute. First, I'd like for you to authenticate a few photographs for me." I went to the witness box and handed him the two photographs that showed the first lady with Collins. "Can you identify these photographs, sir?"

He refused to look at them. He refused to do anything at least initially. He stared at me with that look of complete contempt he had had ever since he realized what I wanted him to do. But he was also a professional and knew he couldn't make a scene, at least not yet.

"Sir, I need you to look at the photographs so you can identify them for me."

He shook his head. "I'm not really interested in photographs. I'm not a photographer."

A small chuckle in the room broke the tension slightly. I tried to reestablish that tension immediately. "I did not ask you to come here as a photographer, Mr. Grosvenor. I think you know that. You're here as a member of the Secret Service. You knew my private investigator, Tinny Byrd, did you not?"

"Yes."

"And sometimes you would talk with Mr. Byrd, wouldn't you?"

"On occasion."

"One of those occasions in which you spoke with Mr. Byrd, he asked you about issues pertaining to the White House, and you knew that he was working for me, or at least for an attorney defending WorldCopter, right?"

"No. I didn't know he was working for an attorney. He asked me some questions about a possible relationship between the first lady and Colonel Collins."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him I didn't talk about anything from inside the White House. That there was a rule in the Secret Service that you don't talk out of school."

"So you didn't tell him anything about any supposed relationship between the first lady and Colonel Collins, correct?"

"That's right. I didn't tell him anything."

"But you did provide him with something, didn't you? You gave him these two photographs, which you told him might be of interest. Right?"

Grosvenor picked up the two photographs. Put them down. He hesitated. Looked at the judge, looked at the jury, then said, "Yes."

The jury wrote quickly in their pads as they evaluated this witness and his unexpected testimony. They didn't know where it was going, but they were paying close attention. I heard the courtroom doors open behind me. I paused and turned. It was a man carrying a briefcase. At first I didn't recognize him, but then I realized it was Richard Packer from the Department of Justice. Our old friend who was heading the investigation of WorldCopter. And right behind Packer was Chris Thompson of the State Department's INR, the Bureau of "Intelligence and Research." Thompson stood behind the rail while Packer walked right through it. I looked at him in stunned silence. The judge said, "Stop right there, sir."

He stopped, completely unintimidated.

The judge continued, "Sir, you're interrupting a trial. What is your business here?"

Packer said softly, "I'm sorry, Your Honor. My name is Richard Packer, from the Department of Justice. Mr. Thompson behind me is from the State Department. I'm here on behalf of the United States, and the witness, Mr. Grosvenor. I am informed there may be areas of inquiry that intrude on national security information. I need to respond in such an eventuality."

The judge nodded. "Fine. Please take a seat behind Mr. Hackett." They did.

I turned around, slightly off-balance, and continued. "Mr. Grosvenor. Those pictures are authentic and they were provided to my private investigator, Tinny Byrd, by you. Correct?"

"Yes. I gave them to him on the condition that he not involve me in the case, and that he not disclose my identity. He has failed me in that regard. So I guess he's not very reliable."

I looked up, surprised at his tone. "Well, sir, he's been murdered. You understand that?"

"Yes. I've heard that."

"He didn't disclose any of this until after his murder. He left your name with his wife. I think he believes that you have important information. Don't you agree?"

"I don't think those photographs are important at all."

I nodded. "Frankly, neither do I."

Grosvenor squinted at me in annoyance. "Then may I go?"

"No, sir. I have a few other questions for you."

I turned to Rachel, who handed me a large manila envelope. I opened it and pulled out four copies of a document that was twenty pages in length. I put them on my notebook in front of me. "Mr. Grosvenor, who was at Camp David the night that the president was killed?"

"I was, and the usual staff."

"Anyone else? Anyone, for example, who was not a U.S. citizen?"

Everyone in the room stared at Grosvenor, not even wanting to blink. He paused. "I'm not sure what you're getting at."

I nodded and put my hands in my pockets. "Yes, you are," I said, and paused. "Was anyone at Camp David to meet with the president on the night he was killed? Other than staff, other than U.S. government employees?"

Grosvenor looked at Thompson, then Packer, who stood up. "Your Honor, I would like to intervene at this point on behalf of the United States and instruct this witness not to answer this question. This question calls for matters that are state secrets. This is a matter of national security and is not subject to disclosure in a civil trial."

Grosvenor tried not to smile. "I'm going to follow the advice of my counsel."

I looked at the judge, who was puzzled. She knew this was leading somewhere important and was annoyed by the diversion of the Justice Department lawyer instructing the witness not to answer the most critical question of the case. She turned to Grosvenor and said, "Let me make sure I understand your testimony, sir. You have knowledge that there were people waiting for the president at Camp David on the night of his death, and you are now refusing to tell us who they were because of the instruction of the attorney who just arrived from the Department of Justice. Is that correct?"

"That is correct."

"So there were people there waiting to meet with the president? That's your testimony?"

"Yes-"

The DOJ lawyer stood again. "Your Honor, again, this is over the line of national security matters. I would move at this point that this witness's testimony be suspended and that I be allowed to file a brief on behalf of the United States to preclude any inquiry into this area. These disclosures could cause irreparable national harm and must be dealt with outside of the presence of the jury and the press and after proper briefing. At the very least, we need to take the proper security steps for a trial that involves national security matters."

The judge sat back and considered. She could feel where the trial was going, she could tell where I was going, but she didn't know what was behind the door. She didn't want the whole thing to blow up, and the DOJ lawyer was now growing insistent.

She replied, "Let us find out first where this is going. I will take your motion under submission. You may continue for now, Mr. Nolan."

"Thank you, Your Honor." Packer sat down but on the edge of his seat.

"Mr. Grosvenor, let's just establish what it is you know. Let's set the parameters of your knowledge. You personally observed the people waiting for the president at Camp David on the night of his death, correct?"

"Correct."

"And you know who they are."

"Yes, I do."

"Mr. Grosvenor, one of the attendees was the premier of the People's Republic of China. Correct?"

A gasp went out in the entire room. Packer jumped out of his seat. This was exactly what he was trying to stop. "Your Honor, not only would it be inappropriate to allow Mr. Grosvenor to answer questions that could invade national security issues, but it's equally inappropriate for Mr. Nolan, who now claims to have classified information within his knowledge, to ask questions that implicate national security. I would move again at this time, immediately, and as forcefully as is possible for me to say it, that Mr. Grosvenor's testimony must be suspended until we are able to fully brief this issue."

Judge Betancourt said, "He hasn't answered the question. Attorneys' questions are not evidence. Overruled."

I looked at Grosvenor. "Your answer?"

"I'm not going to answer that based on instruction of the counsel from the Department of Justice."

"So you don't deny it. It might have been the premier of the People's Republic of China."

"I'm not going to answer that."

"And the other attendees, Mr. Grosvenor, were the president of Taiwan, and the prime minister of Japan, correct?"

Grosvenor remained frozen. "I'm not going to answer that." An ironic smile formed on his face. "He said you weren't reliable. That if I helped you at all, you'd wreck everything."

I looked up in surprise. "I'm sorry? Who said that?"

Grosvenor pointed at Thompson. "He did. Said you were unstable. Looks like he's right. You're reckless."

I pointed to Thompson. "Him? Chris Thompson?"

Grosvenor nodded.

I looked at Thompson then back at Grosvenor. "He wasn't properly introduced. He works for the section of Intelligence and Research at the State Department. Correct?"

"That's my understanding."

"Well, since we're putting it all on the table, did he tell you that he visited me very early in this case and threatened me? Told me to lay off you, and stop trying to find out what happened at Camp David on the night the president was killed?"

"No, he didn't tell me that. What he did tell me is what happened in Iraq."

"That's irrel-"

Hackett said, "No, no, Your Honor. Mr. Nolan wants it all out, let's hear it all."

"Go ahead, Mr. Grosvenor," the judge said.

Grosvenor looked satisfied. There was no way to stop him. "He said you were flying Huey gunships in Iraq. He said you were on a mission and did a hard left turn to avoid fire and cut too close behind another Huey and your main rotor cut the tail off the other helicopter. Both the other Marine pilots died. You went back to the base and blamed some corporal for misaligning the flight-control linkages. You said you hadn't commanded a full left turn at all and the helicopter did it on its own. Then you came unhinged on the corporal. Took him behind the mess tent and beat him senseless."

The jury and the gallery stared at me.

"Then I'm sure he told you what the investigation's findings-"

"Sure. He told me what the investigation concluded. It was a mechanical problem, not pilot error. But he also told me that they did a psych eval on you and they determined you had an anger problem. Can't remember the diagnosis, but it doesn't matter. Your squadron commander covered it all up. He thought you were his best pilot, so that psych eval never saw the light of day. In fact, Mr. Thompson told me if the Maryland bar knew the entire story, you'd never be able to practice law. He said-"

"I am not the one on trial here, Mr. Grosvenor. If the Maryland bar or anyone else wants to know more, they can ask me at the appropriate time. Believe me, there is much more to tell. But the real point here is that Mr. Thompson used that information to keep me from digging into this question, right? The question of why the president was going to Camp David. And you're the one who can answer it. So answer it," I said angrily, trying to control my temper, which wanted very badly to come into play.

Grosvenor said nothing.

I picked up the four copies of the document, handed one to Hackett, handed another to Packer, handed one to the clerk for the judge, and handed one to the witness. The fifth copy was in my notebook. "Your Honor, I'd like marked as court's next exhibit in order the document I just handed to the witness.

"Mr. Grosvenor, have you seen this document before?"

He looked at the document, saw what it was, went white, and turned it over on the desk in front of him. He said nothing.

"Have you seen it before?"

He wouldn't respond.

I continued, "Mr. Grosvenor, this is a copy of a draft treaty that was at Camp David the night the president was killed, correct?"

"I can't answer that based on what I've been told by the Justice Department attorney."

"Sir, this treaty proposes to give Taiwan back to the People's Republic of China and states that neither the United States nor Japan will intervene or oppose it, correct?"

"I can't-"

Packer pulled out a brief. "Your Honor, I must insist that this trial be suspended immediately. I would also ask for the immediate return of the copy of the document that Mr. Nolan claims to have."

She looked at me.

"Your Honor, I didn't make this document up. I didn't print it. This document was in Mr. Byrd's safe-deposit box." I glanced back. "In spite of the efforts of Mr. Thompson, Mr. Byrd got it from Mr. Grosvenor. And in case he was unable to give it to me himself or convince Mr. Grosvenor to, he put it in a safe-deposit box, gave his wife the key, and she gave it to me. I retrieved it yesterday morning for the first time. Mr. Grosvenor, this is the treaty that you showed my investigator, Mr. Byrd, correct? You allowed him to have a copy in case anything happened to you. Correct?"

"I have no comment."

"In fact, you kept a copy even though you told Mr. Thompson here that you had given him your only copy. Right?"

"I have nothing to say."

"This treaty states that the United States, China, Japan, and the president of Taiwan agree to return Taiwan to China, in exchange for unfettered access to the Chinese markets…"

Packer began talking loudly, trying to stop me. I raised my voice. "With China agreeing to pay a huge tariff on everything exported from China to Japan and the United States for twenty years, correct?"

Packer demanded the court's attention. "Your Honor, this is completely improper. There is no evidence of any of this, it is just an attorney talking. None of this is admissible! You must put a stop-"

I raised my voice even more. "And it was Mr. Thompson's boss, the secretary of state, who was driving this entire thing, right? It was his idea. His chance to make a huge impact on the world stage, to set himself up to succeed President Adams. Right?"

"Your Honor!" Packer protested.

Judge Betancourt banged her gavel and demanded quiet. Everyone sat in stunned amazement. "Mr. Packer, if what you're wanting to protect are the things that Mr. Nolan already has stated, then you're motion is pointless; it is already in the public arena-"

I said, "Your Honor, I met with a reporter from the Baltimore Sun this morning and gave her a complete copy of this treaty. They will have a special edition at noon today that recites the entire text. It is completely unjust for the government to come in here and try to prevent the truth from coming out, to prevent the people from knowing what really happened to their president and why."

Hackett was beside himself. "Your Honor, this is outrageous. We've had no chance to discover any of this. All he has proved is that WorldCopter has killed the president through these defective tip weights, and the supposed political intrigue that surrounds it is irrelevant and unprovable."

"It is not irrelevant, Your Honor; it's the whole point. Marcel testified these tip weights were made in Taiwan. Someone in Taiwan discovered their president was about to betray them. I will prove that the owner of the company that makes these tip weights is the cousin of the chief of Taiwan 's security agency. Your Honor, it seems almost certain that somebody from Taiwan was in Washington and transmitted the triggering signal when Marine One flew overhead. They found out this treaty was about to be signed and stopped it. The tip weights were there to be used whenever they needed to. If the treaty didn't go forward, no one would ever know, and the weights would never be discovered. It was the perfect murder weapon.

"So not only should this not be stopped, I request the court to enter a verdict in my clients' favor. No jury could possibly come to any other conclusion than that my client did nothing wrong. The president was assassinated by Taiwanese interested in preventing their country from being sold down the river. Plain and simple."

The judge put up her hands. She finally grabbed her gavel and hit it loudly. "Everybody be quiet and everybody sit down."

She took off her reading glasses, put her hands to the sides of her head, and remained quiet. The room continued to buzz as she looked around, demanding silence by her glare. Finally, she turned her gaze to Hackett. "Mr. Hackett," she said calmly. "If what Mr. Nolan asserts is true-"

Hackett rose with all the presence he could muster. "Your Honor, he hasn't proven anything. He has not authenticated this supposed treaty. He has not obtained testimony from this witness, who actually was attending the meeting that night-"

The judge put up her hand and stopped him. "Mr. Hackett, he has certainly raised enough of an issue in my mind that we will have to find out the answers to these questions. We have a witness who can answer them, but who is refusing to do so, on the instructions of the Justice Department." She looked at Packer, and not with favor. "We will need, at the very least, to suspend this trial and deal with the government's concerns." She sat back. After a minute she said, "Mr. Hackett, what I propose is a motion from you to dismiss your case-without prejudice-in exchange for a waiver of any statute of limitations, so that we can all give the federal government an opportunity to determine whether Mr. Nolan's assertions are true. If it turns out he's wrong, you may refile. If it turns out he's right, you would be foolish to do so. Are you in agreement?"

Hackett sat down and stared in front of him. Finally he turned to the first lady and had a private conversation. She was visibly distraught and was responding to him slowly. He glanced back at his other clients, all of whom were subtly nodding to him. He stood and buttoned his suit coat. He took a deep breath. "We agree, Your Honor."

The judge looked at me.

I stood. "We agree as well, Your Honor."

She said, "Based on that agreement, this case is dismissed without prejudice." She then addressed Hackett: "Regardless of what you do, Mr. Hackett, now that the case is dismissed, I'm going to request that you be subject to an investigation by the Maryland and New York bar associations into the question of whether you participated in Mr. Braden Randall's, or Jonathan Dercks's, defrauding of Mr. Nolan's law firm and used it as an advantage in this litigation. I will also ask the district attorney to begin an investigation to determine whether you have committed criminal fraud or any wiretap violations. You may not leave the jurisdiction until further notice."

Hackett looked stunned. "Your Honor, there is no evidence I had anything-"

"Save it for the DBA, Mr. Hackett. I've heard enough." She turned to the jury. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, thank you for your service. You are now dismissed and you may return to the jury room." They closed their notebooks, completely amazed at the turn of events. The judge looked over the rest of the people in the room. "This case is dismissed without prejudice." She banged her gavel down and stood. Everyone else in the room stood at the same time and the room erupted. Several of the journalists hurried for the door, others stood there absorbing what had happened and wondering if anything else would.

Hackett glared at me. "None of this will ever stick. You can't prove anything."

"Too bad you didn't accept two hundred and fifty million dollars a few nights ago," I replied.

Grosvenor stepped down from the witness box and crossed to me. He grabbed the podium directly across from me as I closed my notebook. Kathryn, Marcel, and Brightman approached me from behind with smiles on their faces. Jean Claude patted me on the back, waiting for me to turn around. But Grosvenor was furious.

He said angrily, "You have no idea what you've done."

I shook my head. "The Senate never would have ratified-"

"That's the whole point," Grosvenor said menacingly. Journalists were starting to listen and take notes. "The heads of state had agreed, and now the whole world knows. When Taiwan realizes their president turned on them, it won't matter what the damned U.S. Senate might have done! China will take Taiwan now. And who's going to stop them? Us? No way. Not when our president agreed to the treaty you've just told the world about."

"Maybe if it had gone through, but now-"

"No! China had made concessions, to the U.S., to Japan, to Taiwan, in writing. Free access to their markets for twenty years and tariffs coming into our market, everything in the treaty. Now they'll get Taiwan for nothing. There is no treaty now. All because you had to win your case." Grosvenor pointed to my chest. "Think about that, lawyer boy. Think about your duties to your country and maybe the world next time, instead of tripping up the other side and showing everyone how clever you are."

I was taken aback. I looked directly at him. "I don't have to apologize for the truth. You should have told the FBI and the NTSB."

"I did! They all knew! You think the NTSB didn't find any tip weights? And they knew the implications if it leaked to the press. Now you've told the world. You really screwed the pooch, Nolan."

I looked into Grosvenor's eyes and understood. "You wanted all this to come out, didn't you? And probably just like this-a big drama with you dead center. You wanted everybody to know the president of Taiwan sold his country down the river because you thought it was wrong. And he's back in Taiwan right now pretending everything is fine. You wanted everyone to know that Adams had been willing to push Taiwan over the cliff as long as he got the right price. You despised President Adams, didn't you? Just like Collins did. Just like a lot of people who worked for him. And you wanted Adams to look bad, right here in this trial. You knew exactly what you were doing."

"You're full of-"

I leaned toward his menacing presence and lowered my voice. The press was trying hard to eavesdrop, but I didn't care. I even saw an arm extended with a tape recorder next to me. I said to Grosvenor, "I wondered about you when I saw you this morning. If you didn't want all this to come out, you wouldn't have come here at all. You would have had Justice fight your fight for you before you got on the witness stand. I mean, you weren't even supposed to have that treaty. You kept a copy just so it could get leaked. What better way to leak it than in a trial when you've been subpoenaed, where you've been forced, looking like the victim? You made sure Byrd got it to me."

Grosvenor looked over my shoulder at Packer, who was listening to every word, then said, "I've got nothing more to say to you," and walked out.

Jean Claude grabbed my hand and pumped it. Marcel stood behind him smiling. Rachel looked at me and nodded as Kathryn patted me on the shoulder.

I was exhausted. I gathered my papers and closed my briefcase. We walked through the mob toward our cars. People screamed questions at me from every direction. I didn't hear any of them. Debbie leaned against the Volvo with her arms crossed, shaking her head and smiling. Thompson stormed away in the distance, his neck visibly red. He wasn't done with me, I was sure of that. I wasn't done with him yet either.

We passed by a television production van. Through the open door I could see two of their monitors. I stopped to look, and Rachel stopped right next to me. One of the monitors showed people celebrating in Paris. The other showed a mob forming outside the presidential palace in Taipei.