Read Online The First Counsel by Brad Meltzer - Free Book Online Page A

for us to know."
    Appreciating the save, Pam nods a silent thank-you to her mentor.
    Still, Simon's unimpressed. "She didn't ask the right questions," he blasts at Caroline. "That's the only reason it went through your legs."
    Caroline shoots an angry look at Simon. There's a long history between these two. When Hartson first got elected, they were both up for the Counsel top spot. Caroline was a friend of the First Lady. She lobbied hard, but Simon won. And the white boys ruled. "Maybe you're not appreciating the process," Caroline says. "There's a difference between asking the hard questions and asking every question under the sun."
    "In an election year, there's no difference. You know how opinions run--every little detail gets magnified. Which means every question's an important question!"
    "I know how to do my job!" Caroline explodes.
    "That's clearly up for debate," Simon growls back.
    Refusing to let Caroline take the fall, Pam jumps back in. "Sir, I appreciate what you're saying, but I've been calling him for days. He keeps saying he's--"
    "I don't want to hear it. If Gimbel doesn't have the time, he doesn't have the nomination. Besides, he's a friend of the President. For that reason alone, he'll sit for the questions."
    "I tried, but he--"
    "He's a friend of the President. He understands."
    Before Pam can respond, someone else says, "That's not true." At the other end of the table, Deputy Counsel Lawrence Lamb continues, "He's not a friend of the President." A tall, thick man with crystal blue eyes and a long neck that cranes slightly lower from years of hunching over to talk to people, Lawrence Lamb has known President Hartson since their high school days in Florida. As a result, Lamb is one of the President's closest friends and most trusted advisors. Which means he has what every one of us wants: the President's ear. And if you have the ear, you have power. So when Lamb tells us that Gimbel isn't a friend of the President, we know the argument's over.
    "I thought they went to law school together," Simon persists, trying not to lose face.
    "That doesn't mean he's a friend," Lamb says. "Trust me on this one, Edgar."
    Simon nods. It's over.
    "I'll ask him about the rumors and the child," Pam finally adds, breaking the silence of the room. "Sorry I missed it."
    "Thank you," Simon replies. Determined to move on, he turns to me and signals that it's my turn to present.
    Lowering my legal pad, I step forward and tell myself that nothing's changed. Whatever I saw last night, this is still my moment. "Been working on Justice's wiretap issue. When it comes right down to it, they want something called roving wiretap authority. Currently, if Justice or the FBI wants to wiretap someone, they can't just say, 'Jimmy "The Fist" Machismo is a lowlife, so give us the wiretaps and we'll set him up.' Instead, they have to list the exact places where suspicious activity is taking place. If they change the rule and get roving authority, they can be far less specific in their requests and they can put the taps wherever they want."
    Simon runs his fingers along his beard, carefully weighing the issue. "It's got great tough-on-crime potential."
    "I'm sure it does," I reply. "But it throws civil liberties out the window."
    "Oh, c'mon," Julian interrupts. "Put away the tear towel. This should be a no-brainer--endorsed by Justice, endorsed by the FBI, hated by criminals--this issue's bulletproof."
    "Nothing's bulletproof," I shoot back. "And when the New York Times throws this on the front page and says Hartson's now got the right to eavesdrop in your home, without reasonable suspicion, everyone from the liberal media to the conspiracy conservatives is going to be tearing hair. Just what Bartlett needs. It's not an issue for an election year, and more important, it's not right."
    "It's not right?" Julian laughs.
    Pompous political ass. "That's my opinion. You have a problem with that?"
    "Back to your corners," Simon intercedes, waving us