Death of American Virtue - Ken Gormley [89]
The two men had both been in the U.S. attorney’s office during earlier stages of their careers; they were professional friends. After exchanging pleasantries, Davis broke the news that he was now representing Paula Jones. Bennett answered loudly, “Oh, that’s too bad.” The Washington superlawyer stated that he had discussed these allegations with President Clinton “for hours and hours.” The president had assured him “that he doesn’t even remember [Jones], let alone anything going on.” Bennett admonished Davis, “You just need to remember that he’s the president, and he’ll be very credible on this issue—and I’m persuaded, having really grilled him on it.”
At this point, Davis swiveled in Traylor’s chair and asked himself, Was it time to drop the first bomb? During the course of the lawyers’ private meetings with Jones, she had volunteered that when Governor Clinton exposed himself, she had observed that his penis was unusually “crooked.” Upon further questioning, Jones recalled that she had joked with Debbie Ballentine that it made her think of “the leaning Tower of Pisa,” and Jones even drew a picture for the lawyers. Cammarata had nudged Davis and whispered that this could be their ace in the hole. There had been a recent story in the national press about a young boy who had alleged that he had been molested by pop star Michael Jackson; the boy had won a $15 million settlement after his lawyers disclosed that he could identify a “distinguishing feature” of Jackson’s genitalia.
Davis now rocked back in the chair and drawled into the phone, “Well, what if I told you that she can identify certain distinguishing characteristics in his genital area?” There was dead silence. Finally, Bennett boomed, “Goddamn it! Here we are lawyers, and we have honorable work to do, and now we’re talking about litigation over the president’s penis! Where’s the dignity in that work?”
Bennett lobbed back his own grenade. “Well, you know… I’ve not seen them, but I understand there’s some nude pictures of [Jones] out there.” This was an interesting factoid, as Davis sized it up. It meant that the White House had already begun doing its opposition research.
“We’re not paying any money,” Bennett declared.
“We’re not asking for any,” Davis replied. “We want a statement by [the president] that will redeem her reputation, that she was not sexually involved with him on an initial meeting or ever.”
Said Bennett, “Maybe we can do something there.”
Everyone in the room seemed to want to end the case “then and there,” especially Paula Jones, who said little except to pipe up that she wanted her good name back. The goal of the Virginia lawyers was simple: “Get some statement from the president she did nothing wrong, she’s not that kind of person, apologize, move on. Period. No money. Nothing.”
Around lunchtime, Bennett called to tell his Virginia opponents that he could get authority from the president to settle. Davis asked, “Well, where is he? Is he available to you?” Bennett replied, “Yes, he’s in the room.”
Davis put his hand over the receiver and mouthed the words “He’s in the room.” The group in Traylor’s office, including Jones, instantly fell silent. Cammarata said to himself, “Wow, now we’re going to be negotiating directly with the president of the United States. This is pretty good.”
Bennett had reviewed the proposed language that the Virginia lawyers had faxed him—he cautioned that the wording might have to be massaged. But they were in the right ballpark. When Bennett volunteered that White House Press Secretary Dee Dee Myers would be the ideal person to read the statement, Davis cut in: “That’s a nonstarter, Bob.” President Clinton was “the only one that can do it, if it’s going to get the attention it deserves to redeem her reputation.