Yet another frivolous Republican lawsuit.....

Floyd, my lawyer, called to tell me that Scooter’s lawyer had called. “He’s waiving anonymity,” he said. “You can testify, but maybe don’t be too forthcoming. He said something about revenge. It wasn’t entirely clear.” But I knew Libby would say that just to be nice. I decided to remain mum until I could get clarification from him personally.

Lewis called a few days later. He asked how I was, what I was wearing, and the usual niceties. Then he went into a long monologue about gardening. He talked about how friends were like green, leafy plants, and special prosecutors were like aphids. It was interesting imagery, but I couldn’t understand why he would make small talk at such a serious moment. I asked Lewis if he was feeling all right. He sighed and said he was “fine,” but his curt tone told my highly trained reporter’s ear that something wasn’t right. My suspicions about his state of mind were further exacerbated when Libby went on to compare political reporters with Egyptian plovers, or crocodile birds, which pick food from between jagged teeth in the opened mouths of massive crocs. “On the one hand, the birds need to eat, and the crocodile needs his teeth cleaned, so it is a symbiotic relationship,” said Libby. “But,” he went on, “the power balance is not even, is it? One snap of the jaw and the bird is consumed, while the great lizard suffers no ill effect. Do you understand?”

Of course I did. But what on earth it had to do with reporting, or politics, I hadn’t the slightest. I told Scooter I thought we should be discussing more pressing issues, like how I should handle the special prosecutor’s subpoena. “Don’t fuck with me, Miller!” he shouted, and hung up. His inexplicable, violent reaction told me the stress of the investigation was getting to him. I was on my own in figuring out how to deal with the Grand Jury.

That night, I found a horse’s severed head in my bed. The note attached said “you know who—and you know what to say.” I racked my brain—who would do such a thing? What did it mean? In retrospect, I guess it was probably from Lewis. He had a truly unique sense of humor. At the time, I knew this was a big clue, a hint as to what I should do next. If only I could understand it…