Marine One (35 page)

"No, I'm just telling you I'm not assuming anything. The fewer people that know what I'm up to, the better off everybody's going to be, including me."

The GPS in my Volvo led us right to his front door. The lights were on, but no car was in the driveway. Rachel said, "How do you even know he's going to be here? What if he's out of town?"

"If he's out of town, we're cooked. But he's not."

"How do you know?"

"Because Tinny has a brother."

The two-story brick house of Georgian design was on a beautiful tree-lined street in Bethesda. We looked up and down the street and saw no activity at all. "Let's go talk to him."

We walked to the front door and rang the bell. I stood back so Rachel was alone in front of the door. I heard some activity in the house. Then I saw the peephole go dark. He was looking at Rachel and asked, "Who's there?"

She said, "It's Rachel Long. I'm here with Mike Nolan. We'd like to talk to you for a minute."

"What about?" he yelled through the closed steel door.

"We're friends of Tinny Byrd's. And Mike's a fellow Marine."

The door opened and Mark Grosvenor gestured us to come into his foyer. We shook hands and introduced ourselves. He said, "Really bad deal about Tinny. I can't imagine who would do that to him."

I said, "I can't believe it. He was a smart guy, I don't know how somebody snuck up on him like that."

Grosvenor shook his head. "Actually that's pretty easy, but still it surprised me."

I reached into my suit pocket and pulled out an envelope with my firm's letterhead on the return address. "Here, this is for you."

He took it into his hands, which was all I needed. Now he was served. "What's this?"

"It's a subpoena to testify in trial tomorrow."

He looked at me like he wanted to kill me. "You son of a bitch. You used Tinny to get into my house and then serve me with a subpoena?"

"Sorry, I had to get it to you. I really need you to testify tomorrow morning at our trial in Annapolis."

"You're him? You look different on television."

"Yeah. That's what they all say. I need you there first thing at nine o'clock. You're our next witness."

"What in the hell do you need me to testify about?"

"Those photos you gave Tinny. You saw them. I put them into the trial. I have to authenticate them. You're the only one that can do that."

"I could lose my job if they find out I'm the one who gave him those photos. And how did you find out it was me? Tinny swore he'd never tell anybody. Damn it." Grosvenor put his hands on his hips and turned away. He turned back. "You can't force me to testify. All you can do is get the court to find me in contempt for failing to comply with your stupid subpoena."

He was completely right, but I didn't want him to have much confidence in that idea. "You don't want to do that, because I will file such a motion and I'll move to continue the trial until you are compelled to testify. I will put your name everywhere. I'll tell them exactly what you had and where it came from, and I'll tell them that I came here and asked you to authenticate it and you refused to stand behind what you had done. It will make you look so dishonest in so many directions that you'll lose your job
and
credibility. At least if you testify, it will look like you tried to do the right thing, to get the facts out."

"I can't. I've got duty tomorrow."

"That doesn't matter and you know it. Tell them you've been subpoenaed to the first lady's trial and you have to go testify. They've got backups."

He stared at me and Rachel with eyes so intense I was actually concerned he was going to assault me. He was a lot bigger than I was. "Just photos?" he finally said.

"Mostly. I'll have to ask you a few other questions too."

He looked into my eyes as if he could read what was in my head. "Nothing about what Tinny and I talked about?"

"I can't really give you any guarantees. A lot has happened in the last twenty-four hours."

GROSVENOR WAS THERE even before I got there at eight o'clock. The turmoil during the night had turned the court-watching news cycle into a twenty-four-hour breathless reality show. Everything was analyzed from every conceivable direction. There were calls to halt the trial, arrest Wayne Bradley, disbar me, disbar Hackett, sequester the jury, and indict WorldCopter; everything was on the public table. When I arrived, Grosvenor was sitting on the bench outside the courtroom. People were asking him who he was. He refused to identify himself to anyone and sat quietly in a dark suit with his legs crossed looking pissed. I didn't acknowledge him in any way. I walked by him and into the courtroom. Wayne Bradley was sitting in the front looking over his notes, and the gallery was filling from the daily line that began hours before trial commenced and snaked through the hall and down the front steps.

By the time the jury filed into the jury box and the gallery was full, the tension was higher than it had been since the first day of trial. Judge Betancourt took the bench, sat in her chair, and swiveled quickly toward Hackett. She glanced at the jury and the rest of the people in the courtroom and said, "Good morning. Mr. Hackett, did you want to cross-examine Dr. Bradley?"

Hackett stood and looked around the courtroom, then at the judge, and said, "No, Your Honor. All he's done is prove my punitive-damages case."

She nodded at him with a slightly annoyed look and looked to me. "You may call your next witness, Mr. Nolan."

"Your Honor, I'd like to call Marcel Remy."

Marcel stood up from the front row and walked to the witness stand. He raised his hand, took the oath, and sat down. Marcel explained his role as the chief accident investigator for WorldCopter. He described his work on the investigation of the crash of Marine One, his work with the NTSB, and told the jury of the investigation hangar, the layout of the wreckage, and the testing that had been conducted.

He then confirmed what Bradley had said, that the partial serial number on the tip weight Bradley had found almost certainly came from Marine One. I asked him several questions about the tip weights, the design of the tip weights, the drawings, and then I asked him the questions that were the reasons I had brought him on first.

"Marcel, are the tip weights x-rayed when they're received by WorldCopter?"

"No, of course not."

"Why is that?"

"They're not complex, they're just weights, pieces of metal. They're like washers. There is nothing to see."

"Does WorldCopter check them against the specifications to make sure they're the right size and weights?"

"Of course. They're measured and weighed."

"Does WorldCopter make the tip weights?"

"No."

I paused, making sure everyone was listening carefully. I waited for complete silence. I then asked quietly, "Who makes the tip weights, Marcel?"

"Chang Manufacturing."

"Where is Chang located?"

"In China. Well, not China exactly, the Republic of China. Or Taiwan. Whatever it is called."

"So not the
People's
Republic of China, but the island, Taiwan."

"Yes. Exactly."

I looked at Hackett. "Your witness."

Hackett stood, looking puzzled. "I don't have any questions for this witness, Your Honor. He simply confirmed that these tip weights were installed by WorldCopter."

The judge said to Marcel, "You may step down. Call your next witness, Mr. Nolan."

I said loudly, "Your Honor, WorldCopter would like to call at this time Mr. J. Mark Grosvenor."

Hackett looked at the witness list, then at me. He looked at the witness list again, then stood. "Your Honor, Mr. Grosvenor is not on the witness list."

"Is that right, Mr. Nolan?" the judge asked.

"Yes, Your Honor. I was unaware of Mr. Grosvenor until yesterday morning. I personally served him with a subpoena last night at his home in Bethesda. He's in the hallway."

Hackett wasn't going to relent. "Your Honor, I don't really care if he's in the hallway. What I care about is that he's not on the witness list. I have not had any opportunity to do any discovery against this witness, and I'm not prepared to cross-examine him. If this is a new witness with important information, I should be allowed to take his deposition and prepare."

Grosvenor stood behind the gate. I motioned him forward toward the witness stand. The judge said, "Let me see counsel at sidebar."

The court reporter picked her stenographic machine off its pedestal and followed Hackett and me to the side of the bench, where the judge had wheeled over for our conference. She said in a low voice, just above a whisper, "Mr. Nolan, why is this man not on the witness list? Who is he?"

I leaned forward. "Your Honor, Mr. Grosvenor is a Secret Service agent employed at the White House in the presidential detail. He was the head of security at Camp David. He will authenticate the photos that were discussed earlier, since he is the source, as well as provide additional testimony about who the president was going to see on the night of his death."

Hackett went absolutely red like he was going to explode. "Your Honor, this is potentially explosive testimony, and I am not prepared to cross-examine him. I need to take his deposition, explore whatever knowledge he has, and test that knowledge against reality. For all I know, this man could be a complete charlatan and a fake witness like Mr. Nolan has attempted to use in the preparation of-"

The judge wasn't having any of it. "Mr. Hackett, if he testifies under oath, you can test whatever theory you want. If Mr. Nolan only learned about his identity yesterday, he couldn't have put him on the witness list. Is that correct, Mr. Nolan?"

"That is correct, Your Honor. I didn't know his name until yesterday. My private investigator was murdered. The relationship that this Secret Service agent had with my private investigator was confidential and I was unaware of it. I knew he had information but I did not know his name. Mr. Byrd left an envelope for me in a safe-deposit box. Here is the note that was in that envelope that his wife gave to me yesterday."

The judge looked at it and nodded her head. "I'm going to mark this document as the court's next in order. It will not be admitted for the jury to see, but will be kept as part of the trial record. How did you receive this yesterday?"

"Mrs. Cherie Byrd, Tinny's wife. She came to my house. I had never met her before," I whispered. "And that's the first I knew of Mr. Grosvenor's identity."

"You may cross-examine him at your leisure, Mr. Hackett, and if there is severe injustice, we may provide time for you to take his deposition tonight or over the weekend if that's called for."

Hackett was furious. "This is completely irregular, Your Honor. I'm being sandbagged here."

"Not if what Mr. Nolan said here is true. Why don't you ask Mr. Grosvenor when he was first contacted by Mr. Nolan? You'll have time to cross-examine him. I'm going to allow this witness." With that, she turned her chair and moved back to the center of the bench. The court reporter picked up her machine and returned to her armless chair. Hackett sat down and I took my place at the center of the courtroom, in the center of the tornado.

The judge said, "You may take the stand, Mr. Grosvenor. Please swear the witness." The clerk swore Grosvenor in and he sat down in the seat.

I was glad that we were separated by fifteen feet. He looked as if he wanted to kill me. "Good morning, Mr. Grosvenor."

"Morning."

"You just told the clerk that your name was J. Mark Grosvenor. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Would you tell the jury your place of employment?"

"I'm employed by the United States Secret Service and I am assigned the White House detail."

"What is your particular area of responsibility?"

" Camp David."

The courtroom fell completely silent as everyone waited to hear his testimony.

"Sir, it's my understanding that on the night of the accident, the night that Marine One went down, you were at Camp David awaiting the president, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"We'll come back to that in a minute. First, I'd like for you to authenticate a few photographs for me." I went to the witness box and handed him the two photographs that showed the first lady with Collins. "Can you identify these photographs, sir?"

He refused to look at them. He refused to do anything at least initially. He stared at me with that look of complete contempt he had had ever since he realized what I wanted him to do. But he was also a professional and knew he couldn't make a scene, at least not yet.

"Sir, I need you to look at the photographs so you can identify them for me."

He shook his head. "I'm not really interested in photographs. I'm not a photographer."

A small chuckle in the room broke the tension slightly. I tried to reestablish that tension immediately. "I did not ask you to come here as a photographer, Mr. Grosvenor. I think you know that. You're here as a member of the Secret Service. You knew my private investigator, Tinny Byrd, did you not?"

"Yes."

"And sometimes you would talk with Mr. Byrd, wouldn't you?"

"On occasion."

"One of those occasions in which you spoke with Mr. Byrd, he asked you about issues pertaining to the White House, and you knew that he was working for me, or at least for an attorney defending WorldCopter, right?"

"No. I didn't know he was working for an attorney. He asked me some questions about a possible relationship between the first lady and Colonel Collins."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him I didn't talk about anything from inside the White House. That there was a rule in the Secret Service that you don't talk out of school."

"So you didn't tell him anything about any supposed relationship between the first lady and Colonel Collins, correct?"

"That's right. I didn't tell him anything."

"But you did provide him with something, didn't you? You gave him these two photographs, which you told him might be of interest. Right?"

Grosvenor picked up the two photographs. Put them down. He hesitated. Looked at the judge, looked at the jury, then said, "Yes."

The jury wrote quickly in their pads as they evaluated this witness and his unexpected testimony. They didn't know where it was going, but they were paying close attention. I heard the courtroom doors open behind me. I paused and turned. It was a man carrying a briefcase. At first I didn't recognize him, but then I realized it was Richard Packer from the Department of Justice. Our old friend who was heading the investigation of WorldCopter. And right behind Packer was Chris Thompson of the State Department's INR, the Bureau of "Intelligence and Research." Thompson stood behind the rail while Packer walked right through it. I looked at him in stunned silence. The judge said, "Stop right there, sir."

He stopped, completely unintimidated.

The judge continued, "Sir, you're interrupting a trial. What is your business here?"

Packer said softly, "I'm sorry, Your Honor. My name is Richard Packer, from the Department of Justice. Mr. Thompson behind me is from the State Department. I'm here on behalf of the United States, and the witness, Mr. Grosvenor. I am informed there may be areas of inquiry that intrude on national security information. I need to respond in such an eventuality."

The judge nodded. "Fine. Please take a seat behind Mr. Hackett." They did.

I turned around, slightly off-balance, and continued. "Mr. Grosvenor. Those pictures are authentic and they were provided to my private investigator, Tinny Byrd, by you. Correct?"

"Yes. I gave them to him on the condition that he not involve me in the case, and that he not disclose my identity. He has failed me in that regard. So I guess he's not very reliable."

I looked up, surprised at his tone. "Well, sir, he's been murdered. You understand that?"

"Yes. I've heard that."

"He didn't disclose any of this until after his murder. He left your name with his wife. I think he believes that you have important information. Don't you agree?"

"I don't think those photographs are important at all."

I nodded. "Frankly, neither do I."

Grosvenor squinted at me in annoyance. "Then may I go?"

"No, sir. I have a few other questions for you."

I turned to Rachel, who handed me a large manila envelope. I opened it and pulled out four copies of a document that was twenty pages in length. I put them on my notebook in front of me. "Mr. Grosvenor, who was at Camp David the night that the president was killed?"

"I was, and the usual staff."

"Anyone else? Anyone, for example, who was not a U.S. citizen?"

Everyone in the room stared at Grosvenor, not even wanting to blink. He paused. "I'm not sure what you're getting at."

I nodded and put my hands in my pockets. "Yes, you are," I said, and paused. "Was anyone at Camp David to meet with the president on the night he was killed?
Other
than staff, other than U.S. government employees?"

Grosvenor looked at Thompson, then Packer, who stood up. "Your Honor, I would like to intervene at this point on behalf of the United States and instruct this witness not to answer this question. This question calls for matters that are state secrets. This is a matter of national security and is not subject to disclosure in a civil trial."

Grosvenor tried not to smile. "I'm going to follow the advice of my counsel."

I looked at the judge, who was puzzled. She knew this was leading somewhere important and was annoyed by the diversion of the Justice Department lawyer instructing the witness not to answer the most critical question of the case. She turned to Grosvenor and said, "Let me make sure I understand your testimony, sir. You have knowledge that there were people waiting for the president at Camp David on the night of his death, and you are now refusing to tell us who they were because of the instruction of the attorney who just arrived from the Department of Justice. Is that correct?"

"That is correct."

"So there were people there waiting to meet with the president? That's your testimony?"