WITH UNCTUOUS PIETY, former independent counsel Lawrence Walsh, of Iran- contra fame, declared repeatedly last week that he feels sorry for Kenneth Starr. Poor Ken, he said: so far away from investigating an Arkansas land deal, now trapped in the story of a presidential peccadillo.
Walsh had reason to feel a pang, but mostly because Starr has managed to do in four years what Walsh failed to do in seven: nail somebody. Furthermore, Walsh proved himself an incompetent analyst of the present situation: Starr's leap into the Monica Lewinsky affair has everything to do with Whitewater, his original brief. If successful, he will ultimately link all of the events related to Whitewater and tie his investigation into a 360-degree loop. The Lewinsky story is not peripheral to Whitewater; indeed, it is the key to it.
As Webb Hubbell admits in his book, Friends in High Places, he was deeply involved in the Whitewater Development Project, as well as the controversial side-affair known as Castle Grande. Starr has long believed, and believes now more than ever, that Hubbell can unravel the Whitewater story and its complicated series of arrangements, earnings, and payoffs.
After Hubbell was indicted by the Office of Independent Counsel for stealing nearly $ 500,000 from his law partners -- including Hillary Rodham Clinton -- presidential friend and adviser Vernon Jordan put in a call to Ron Perelman, the chairman of the Revlon Corporation. Jordan is a member of the company's board of directors. Jordan also talked to Barry Schwartz, Revlon's general counsel, about doing something to help Hubbell make money until his trial. Perelman agreed to a deal whereby Hubbell would be paid $ 25,000 per quarter for "public relations" work. (What better spokesman for a company than a man under indictment?)
After being paid $ 63,000 by Revlon, Hubbell pleaded guilty to mail fraud and tax evasion, in a plea bargain. He was sentenced to two years in a federal penitentiary. It was Starr's impression that, as a result of the plea bargain, Hubbell would become a cooperating witness against the Clintons. After the sentencing, however, Hubbell turned turtle. He didn't give Starr a thing. Once out of prison, he published his book, in which he offered little of interest.
For two years, Starr's anger at Hubbell's double cross has simmered. The frustration of being certain that Hubbell was given hush money -- and of being unable to prove it -- has gnawed at him.
Enter Linda Tripp and her story of Clinton's relationship with the young intern, Monica Lewinsky. Just why would Starr rush to Attorney General Janet Reno to secure her cooperation and then go to the relevant three-judge panel to have the inquiry expanded? Sources inside the independent counsel's office say that the normally placid Starr nearly hyperventilated on learning what, to him, was the most sensational detail of them all: that Jordan had called his old friend Perelman and asked him to get Monica Lewinsky a p.r. job at Revlon. Suddenly, things were starting to sound very, very familiar.
Suppose, Starr ruminated, Vernon Jordan was at the center of a conspiracy to keep Lewinsky silent? (This is, after all, what is implied on the Tripp tapes.) Jordan's discussions with Perelman might well bring Revlon itself into the heart of the conspiracy. Starr probably can't indict President Clinton, but how about naming Jordan and Revlon as defendants and sticking a few RICO statutes into the mix for good measure?
Overnight, Starr acquired the big stick he needs to get back to the Webb Hubbell case. And already, Revlon is nervous. Hours after the news broke, the company issued a statement saying that it had withdrawn its job offer to Lewinsky. With the possibility that Clinton will go down, and Jordan with him, Revlon executives may at long last be ready to tell Starr what he most wants to heart: that Webb Hubbell was paid for the specific purpose of keeping him silent. (It will be interesting to see whether the company retains Jordan as a director.) Barry Schwartz, for his part, testified before Starr's grand jury in 1994. Threatened with a possible perjury indictment, Schwartz may be in a more cooperative mood when Starr speaks to him again.
This is the thread that ties Lewinsky to Whitewater, and does so tightly. Once Revlon executives spill the beans, Hubbell will be faced with a choice: return to prison or continue to defend an administration that, for all practical purposes, is already out the door. At this point, Starr believes, Hubbell will finally agree to talk. The statute of limitations may have run out on the savings-and-loan crimes, but the payment of hush money, obstruction of justice, and destruction of documents become real and timely.
Best of all for Starr, he may finally be able to pursue his investigation without having to worry about disrupting the country with an unpleasant impeachment inquiry or the spectacle of trying a first lady. Starr has enough evidence in hand to run the Clintons back where they came from, without a trial by the Senate. He now has the opportunity to push forward with only one nagging concern: Will President Gore pardon his predecessor?
Kim Eisler, formerly the senior editor of Legal Times, is national editor of Washingtonian magazine. He is the author of, among other books, Justice for All, a biography of William Brennan.