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Gwen lowers her eyes, lifts them, and says, “They haven’t said it publicly, but I’m sure the attorney general and the FBI are going to start an investigation.”
Barrett says, “You’re probably right.”
“And sir,” she says, voice tinged with desperation, “I know you can’t interfere in their activities. I wouldn’t even consider asking you that. But if you could see your way clear to making a public statement, perhaps with me at your side in the Rose Garden, as the party leader, that you have faith in me and are confident that I’ll be cleared of all charges, that would make a world of difference.”
He lets her dangle there for a few seconds.
“Sorry, I can’t do that, Madam Speaker.”
“But Keegan,” she pleads, “I’ve been with you right from the start! I hosted fundraisers and rallies for you when you were fourth in the polls, when you started running in the caucuses and primaries, and I got the California delegation sewn up for you ahead of the convention. Sir, I …”
Barrett softens his voice. “As much as I do believe in your innocence, Gwen, I can’t do that. A public statement on your behalf would seem like I was interfering in an upcoming investigation. And second, as much as it pains me to say this, standing next to you and announcing that I totally believe in your innocence, it would make me incredibly vulnerable if the worst were to happen and you were found guilty.”
“But I’m innocent!”
Barrett says, “I’m sure, Gwen, but I can’t take that risk. Sorry. I need to let the process take place, as painful as it’s going to be for you.”
The speaker’s face is a mixture of anger and sadness. Barrett says, “Look, this is what I can do. Later today I’ll have one of my staff members leak something to one of our friends over at theWashington Post. Say that ‘while the president is concerned about these allegations, the speaker is still a close personal friend and is confident she will be cleared of all charges.’ Best I can do, Gwen.”
She nods, gets up from the chair. “I wish you could do more, but I understand, Mr. President.”
Barrett steps up from his desk, goes around and gives her a hug. “I’m with you, Gwen, as much as I can be. God bless you.”
“God bless you, too, sir.”
About ten minutes after the speaker of the House leaves, his special assistant, Carlton Pope, steps in and says, “Well?”
Barrett is gathering some reports and folders, wanting to quickly get back to his private office and refuge upstairs.
“It went,” he says. “But I want you to contact one of our friends at thePost. I need an article in tomorrow’s paper.”
Pope says, “What do you need?”
“A White House source says the president is watching with keen interest the alleged charges against Speaker Washington and supports a thorough and transparent investigation into her activities.”
Pope nods. He’s got a great memory, and Barrett is sure that quote will appear tomorrow just as he dictated it.
“That doesn’t sound particularly supportive,” his special assistant says. “It’s like you’re letting her dangle out there, probably guilty.”
Barrett checks his desk, makes sure he’s leaving nothing behind.
“The speaker made a huge mistake,” he says.
“What’s that?”
“She trusted me,” Barrett says.
CHAPTER 69
IN HIS JEEP Wrangler with Noa Himel, Liam Grey says, “Right from the beginning, when POTUS called us into his office, you were spot-on. Saying it wasn’t going to end well.”
Noa says, “Bet those words burn coming out of your mouth.”
“No, they don’t,” he says. “I’m looking at reality. We thought we could exert a restraining influence on Barrett by being on the inside with him. We were wrong.”
He shifts in his seat, looks behind him.
Just a typical parking lot at a typical Walmart.