Anyone thinking that former FBI Director James Comey’s upcoming testimony before the Senate Intelligence Committee might be dull, or worried about Comey being a “fact witness” and promising not to engage in drawing conclusions … stop worrying. Instead, read Jim Comey’s amazing opening statement.
Comey’s statement is not just detailed, it’s deeply engaging. But maybe the most amazing thing is that it’s not Comey’s narrative. It’s not the story of Jim Comey, Action Hero of Action. Instead, these are Cliffs Notes from a Gothic horror—momentary glimpses into a man who feels beset by enemies behind every tree and is in constant need of reassurance.
A few moments later, the President said, “I need loyalty, I expect loyalty.” ...
He then said, “I need loyalty.”
I replied, “You will always get honesty from me.”
He paused and then said, “That’s what I want, honest loyalty.”
They may be Comey’s notes, but the extraordinary character in this narrative is Trump. Comey records what happens in each of these illuminating flashes, but the real author of the piece is the guy who’s trembles at the center, and the story he’s writing is one of steady descent.
The President signaled the end of the briefing by thanking the group and telling them all that he wanted to speak to me alone. I stayed in my chair. …
When the door by the grandfather clock closed, and we were alone, the President began by saying, “I want to talk about Mike Flynn.”
Each of Comey’s interludes adds a brushstroke to the portrait of Trump. But not one of the colors in this painting is bright. Trump is worried. He’s demanding. He’s vindictive. And he’s worrisome enough that the FBI director begged not to be left alone with him.
I took the opportunity to implore the Attorney General to prevent any future direct communication between the President and me.
He didn’t get his wish. Instead, Trump called Comey to complain about the “cloud” hanging over him because of news about the incident with Russian hookers.
He said he had nothing to do with Russia, had not been involved with hookers in Russia, and had always assumed he was being recorded when in Russia. He asked what we could do to “lift the cloud.” …
He finished by stressing “the cloud” that was interfering with his ability to make deals for the country and said he hoped I could find a way to get out that he wasn’t being investigated. I told him I would see what we could do, and that we would do our investigative work well and as quickly as we could.
In the same conversation, Trump was ready to condemn anyone he thought was connected to Hillary Clinton, even if indirectly.
In an abrupt shift, he turned the conversation to FBI Deputy Director Andrew McCabe, saying he hadn’t brought up “the McCabe thing” because I had said McCabe was honorable, although McAuliffe was close to the Clintons and had given him (I think he meant Deputy Director McCabe’s wife) campaign money. Although I didn’t understand why the President was bringing this up, I repeated that Mr. McCabe was an honorable person.
The next time Trump phoned up Comey, “the cloud” was back again. By then, Trump seemed to think that Comey was completely his creature.
He replied that “the cloud” was getting in the way of his ability to do his job. …
[Trump] added, “Because I have been very loyal to you, very loyal; we had that thing you know.”
I did not reply or ask him what he meant by “that thing.”
Enough clouds to make a dark and stormy night. Throw in a “thing” to haunt the moors. James Comey’s account of his interaction with Trump aren’t a new Richard III. They’re more like a sequel to Frankenstein.