Death of American Virtue - Ken Gormley [161]
The timing seemed propitious on many levels. OIC was putting the finishing touches on a report dealing with the Vince Foster matter, and the report would be made public in less than a week. It would put to rest the theories that Foster had been murdered and that the White House had engaged in a cover-up. It would confirm, point by point, Robert Fiske’s conclusion that Foster had committed suicide in Fort Marcy Park, reaffirming the original report filed by Fiske in 1994. The rest of the Whitewater/Madison investigation seemed to be moving along smoothly. A second prosecution of former Governor Jim Guy Tucker, relating to alleged tax fraud in his cable television business, was slowly gearing up for trial but that was a year away. It was a perfect time, Starr cheerfully concluded, for a professional change of life.
The whole Starr family supported the move. At a meeting at the dinner table, the Starrs voted that Ken should go for it. He called the president of Pepperdine, David Davenport, and gratefully accepted.
Starr expected this would be a nonevent. Since the investigation was still centered in Little Rock, he believed the logical choice to succeed him would be his chief Arkansas deputy, Hickman Ewing. This would make for a seamless transition.
President Bill Clinton later commented: “I thought that he had had a moment of insightful sanity and he realized that, you know, he was beating a dead horse. And that it was hurting him and hurting his reputation. And he was offered a way out, and he took it. I thought it was an entirely sensible thing. And then the right-wingers and the establishment press … pitched a hissy fit, and he caved in. He should have gone in 1997. And I would have wished him well.”
Many Republicans interpreted Starr’s decision to surf off to Malibu as a sign of weakness, indicating that the investigation against the president and First Lady was sputtering to a close. Former Independent Counsel Joseph DiGenova, a frequent Washington commentator on matters dealing with special prosecutors, declared that Starr’s departure for Pepperdine signaled “the big stuff is over.” A White House source concurred, asking the rhetorical question, “Is Starr going to indict the First Lady and then leave for the West Coast?” Susan McDougal’s lawyer, who was watching his client languish in jail for contempt, saw Starr’s bon voyage notice as heartening news. “This is a signal to me that Mr. Starr has decided against further prosecution, and it is a great sign to Susan that her incarceration will come to an end soon,” Bobby McDaniel told the press. Even Ken Starr’s closest allies read the tea leaves as a requiem for the Whitewater/Madison investigation. Ted Olson, a longtime friend and colleague of Starr’s who had represented David Hale in congressional Whitewater matters, told reporters that the prosecution was “all but dead.”
Rumors began sweeping through the media that OIC had staged four mock trials and that in none of these dry runs had Bill or Hillary Clinton been convicted by a jury of peers. The momentum was gathering to usher Ken Starr out the door; his adversaries were declaring a complete victory.
Ken Starr later said of his bungled decision: “It was like the proverbial donkey. You’ve got to get the attention of the donkey, so you hit the donkey with a two-by-four over the head.”
Sam Dash, the OIC’s ethics counsel, was delivering a speech in Naples, Florida, when a member of the audience asked him, “What do you think of the independent counsel leaving to become a dean?” Dash nearly fell over—he tried to recover by saying, “Well, I don’t know about that. But maybe that’s good news. Maybe he’s finished.” As soon as Dash located a phone, he called Starr and angrily demanded, “How can you possibly make that decision? First of all, without consulting [anyone]. Second,