Death of American Virtue - Ken Gormley [273]
BILL Ginsburg, at heart, was an unfulfilled civil rights lawyer. Born on the East Coast, he had obtained his law degree at University of Southern California Law School in 1967 during the height of the civil rights movement. Ginsburg had represented doctors who wanted to receive “02” exemptions during the Vietnam War, winning “conscientious objector” status for physicians who were morally opposed to the conflict. He had helped file a lawsuit against the Los Angeles County Bar Association, because it would not allow blacks to join, ultimately forcing that bar association to change its policy.
So in deciding how to handle the blockbuster Lewinsky matter, Ginsburg had picked up the phone and called Nate Speights, an African American criminal defense attorney, “a good lawyer and pal” whom he knew from D.C. work over the years. Although the Washington, D.C., bar was still highly segregated through a silent network dominated by the white establishment, Ginsburg planned to do things L.A.-style.
Ginsburg believed that he and Speights could strike a quick deal with Starr’s prosecutors. If OIC promised her “nonrecourse immunity,” they would advise Lewinsky to “tell all.” This would include “every meeting she ever had with Vernon Jordan, and it included Betty Currie, and it included the White House visits, and it included her relationship with the president. I mean, I couldn’t squeeze the rag any drier,” Ginsburg said later. He would ensure that Lewinsky disclosed “every ax murder she ever committed.” The only condition that he would insist upon was that OIC could not force her to become a wired government snitch.
Unfortunately for all concerned, no such deal was ever consummated.
On Monday, as the rest of the district celebrated Martin Luther King Day, Ginsburg and Speights walked into Suite 490 of the obscure Pennsylvania Avenue building that housed the OIC headquarters. Monica herself attended the meeting to signal, “I’m here just to be available, depending upon what transpires in the discussions between the attorneys.” The plan was to hammer out an agreement on the spot.
Ginsburg and Speights volunteered to act as the “post office.” They would convey OIC’s questions to their client and report her answers, giving the Starr prosecutors a taste of her testimony. The Starr team was encouraged—it wasn’t a full proffer, but it seemed to be a reasonable compromise.
In short order, however, OIC’s optimism faded. Ginsburg and Speights would leave the conference room carrying basic questions from the Starr team to Monica—questions such as “Did you have sexual relations with the president?” or “Did President Clinton or Vernon Jordan encourage you to lie about the nature of your relationship?” There would be long waits, sometimes as long as an hour, before Lewinsky’s lawyers returned with ambiguous, worthless answers. Monica seemed unwilling even to admit that she had engaged in sexual relations with Clinton, a basic starting point. All these things were causing the Starr prosecutors “to have greater and greater anxiety” about Monica’s “believability and candor.” It also was solidifying their distrust of Bill Ginsburg.
Bob Bittman, the young prosecutor who was overseeing OIC’s scaled-down operations in Arkansas, had flown to Washington to lend a hand. He was now “babysitting” Monica in the reception area, chatting about