Death of American Virtue - Ken Gormley [351]
Although some later accounts would mangle this point, Cacheris emphasized that he and his partners never believed that Lewinsky might be fantasizing her affair with Clinton. The defense team had consulted a psychiatrist about “de Clerambault’s syndrome” (otherwise known as erotomania)—a rare condition with which the afflicted, usually young females, can delude themselves into believing a famous or powerful person has fallen in love with them. Yet the lawyers slammed the door shut on this theory immediately. “She didn’t fantasize [an affair],” Cacheris said. “She had one.” This presented its own set of problems.
The defense lawyers quickly discerned that Monica Lewinsky still had a “soft spot” for Clinton. Fortunately, they could tell that her fear for life and liberty was beginning to trump her lingering love for president. “She did not want to be charged with any criminal offense or certainly convicted of one or face the possibility of incarceration,” said Cacheris. “All of those things preyed very heavily on her.” Moreover, Cacheris and Stein knew that they were holding an ace card that they could play at any moment: The blue dress would provide the single incontrovertible piece of evidence that Starr’s office needed for a checkmate. “We knew that she had it,” said Cacheris. “And we told her to keep it, retain it.”
The blue Gap dress was a mystery that seemed to elude everyone who sought its whereabouts, like an intriguing yet repulsive relic. Linda Tripp had tried to get the keys to Monica’s apartment, on one occasion, to swipe it. Tripp had also encouraged Lewinsky to swab the semen-stained area with a cotton swab to preserve the evidence or to seal the dress in a plastic bag and hide it for safekeeping.
Bill Ginsburg had known about the blue dress “[almost] from day one,” but he had deftly managed to avoid revealing its whereabouts. If OIC had formally subpoenaed the garment, he would later admit, “I would have been in a pickle.” Fortunately for Ginsburg, “nobody ever asked me for it.”
Ironically, the FBI and OIC had made a big kerfuffle early on, calling Ginsburg and saying they wanted to “search [Lewinsky’s] apartment.” When the government agents asked Ginsburg if a search warrant was necessary, he responded genially, “Not at all.” The bearded lawyer told Monica’s mother to “have a pot of coffee, both decaf and regular, and bear claws, donuts, pastries.” He added with a wry smile, “Make it easy for these guys, because they promised me they weren’t going to tear the place apart and break down the walls.” On the appointed day and with the coffeepots bubbling away, Monica’s mother had waited apprehensively. Not a single G-man arrived. When Ginsburg called OIC, Mike Emmick told him, “Oh, we forgot.”
After a new date was arranged, more coffee and pastries were delivered. “It wasn’t stale; it was new stuff,” Ginsburg later vouched. The FBI this time searched Monica’s Watergate apartment, seizing any dark dress in sight. “It didn’t matter if it was blue, black, purple—any dress,” Ginsburg recalled. All the dresses were apprehended.
Three days later, Emmick called back, openly disappointed that the only blue dress bearing stains had come back negative for semen residue. Emmick was also miffed that his agents had found none of the “gifts” that Clinton supposedly had given Lewinsky, as spelled out on the Tripp tapes. The prosecutor said to Ginsburg, “Okay, where is the stuff we were looking for?” He added sternly, “We know for a fact that she got Leaves of Grass.” Ginsburg replied politely, “Do your people have eyes?” Monica and her mother were moving to New York; there were four large boxes piled up in the living room of their Watergate apartment. “Did your guys ever search the boxes?” he asked.