Fear: Trump in the White House(109)

“I never said,” Trump said.

“He made a contemporaneous memorandum of it,” Dowd said. “Reported it to his buddies.”

“I didn’t say that,” Trump replied. “John, I absolutely didn’t say that.”

“Well, he says . . .”

“He’s a liar,” Trump said. He went full tilt on Comey. “The guy’s a crook, he’s a liar. He bounces between the Clinton [email] thing and making memos and leaking.”

The president had his critique down pat. He delivered it all, unleashed, nonstop. Dowd tried to interject. No way. Trump went the whole nine yards.

“Look,” Dowd said after the storm had briefly subsided, “you can’t answer a question that way. That is what they say is off-putting. It’s not good. Okay? Be polite about it.”

“Well, goddamn it!”

“Did he tell you that you weren’t under investigation” on January 6?

“Yes he did.”

“He just meant on the salacious part, not collusion, right?” Dowd asked. That was one theory in Mueller’s team.

“That’s bullshit! He never said that to me.”

Dowd believed him since Comey had corroborated that there had been no investigation on anything at that point.

The next 30 minutes were useless. “This thing’s a goddamn hoax!” Trump reprised everything he had tweeted or said before. Dowd could get nowhere. Trump was raging. Dowd worried that if he had been Mueller that Trump probably would have fired him on the spot. It was almost as if Trump were asking, Why am I sitting here answering questions? “I am the president of the United States!”

What a mess. Dowd shrugged his shoulders at the waste of time, but he saw the full nightmare. It was quite a sight seeing the president of the United States fuming like some aggrieved Shakespearean king.

Trump finally came down from the ceiling and began to regain his composure.

“Mr. President, that’s why you can’t testify,” Dowd said. “I know you believe it. I know you think it. I know you experienced it. But when you’re answering questions. When you’re a fact witness, you try to provide facts. If you don’t know the facts, I’d just prefer you to say, Bob, I just don’t remember. I got too much going on here. Instead of sort of guessing and making all kinds of wild conclusions.”

Then Dowd handed Trump the draft of the letter addressed to Mueller. The subject read “Request for Testimony on Alleged Obstruction of Justice.”

A raw assertion of presidential power was printed in boldface: “He could, if he wished, terminate the inquiry, or even exercise his power to pardon if he so desired.”

Trump read the 22-page letter carefully, pausing to read several paragraphs out loud. He said he loved the letter. “You know, I’ve got a hell of a case here. I love the way it’s organized.” He admired the 59 footnotes.

“This is just one of the best days I’ve ever had in this thing,” he went on. His capacity to cycle between emotions, from low to high, was on full display. “It really is beautiful. I guess it’s everything I ever thought of and better. Now I get it. I see what you’re doing.”

Yeah, Dowd said.

“Let’s push them to the wall. But you don’t want me to testify?”

“No,” Dowd replied. “Why don’t we exhaust this thing? Maybe if push comes to shove, I’ll suggest to Bob, give me the questions. We will answer them. And we’ll make a script. You can come over, ask your questions and he’ll read the answers. How can you complain about that when you’ve trusted us on everything we’ve given? Plus the president cannot possibly remember all this. And by the way, he would love to meet you and talk through this thing, but he needs the assistance [of a script].”

“By God, I’ll do that,” Trump said. “That’s great.”

“Well,” Dowd said, “just imagine if you didn’t have the script.”

“I don’t know, John. We just went through that. You think I was struggling?”

“Yeah, you are. But Mr. President, I don’t blame you. It’s not that you’re lying or you’re bad or anything like that. Given your daily intake—just look what we’ve done this afternoon.”

There had been during their conversation several interruptions, two short briefings on world problems and some classified documents for Trump to sign. How could he remember everything?

“You know,” Dowd continued, “that gets in the way of trying to recollect what happened six months ago or nine months ago.”

“That’s great,” Trump said. “I’m with you. I don’t really want to testify.”

The day after the practice session in the White House, Trump called Dowd. “I slept like a rock,” Trump said. “I love that letter. Can I have a copy?”

“No,” Dowd said.

Dowd had the president where he wanted him.

On Monday, January 29, 2018, Dowd and Sekulow signed the letter. Dowd then arranged to deliver the letter to Quarles on February 1. It would be just like in the movies, Dowd thought. Quarles was to walk down the street and hop into Dowd’s parked car.

They exchanged a few pleasantries and asked about each other’s kids.

“Well, here’s your letter,” Dowd said.