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Movers and Shakers
Patrick Fitzgerald arriving at the courthouse, where he broke the long, suspenseful wait by moving chairs.
(By Larry Morris -- The Washington Post)
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So enthralled with the case are some in Washington that it was possible to stumble on heated, detailed conversations on the subject among people who still didn't know an indictment had just landed.
Adrian Reed, a D.C. government worker, was propounding his theories on the case to two friends walking near the Judiciary Square Metro station. It was great news to him that Libby had been indicted.
"That guy Rove should have been indicted," he said. "If you live here and you don't follow what this government is doing, you need to live somewhere else."
Outside the White House, tourists with beeping digital cameras were making their own versions of the postcard view from the Ellipse -- the ideal White House, the one that never shows cracks, no matter who lives there.
Some of the tourists -- believe it or don't! -- appeared totally indifferent to the indictment. "I don't even know who he is," said a man in shorts and a baseball cap.
John McGregor, 50, who works in video production in Green Bay, Wis., thought the news was "great. I hope it's the beginning of things to come for this administration. . . . I was wanting Rove really bad."
On the Pennsylvania Avenue side, there was more indifference, and puzzlement.
"Much ado about nothing," said Harry Cure, 68, a retiree from Redmond, Ore. "I don't see where it's going to serve any purpose other than be a political football."
"I don't know too much about it," offered James Fournier, 25, a geographic information technician from San Diego. "I know there was a leak."
At one of the bars in the Old Ebbitt Grill, across 15th Street, diners watched CNN with the sound off, reading about the indictments in closed-captioning. It wasn't the center of attention and conversations continued about other subjects.
"I knew they were going to try something, if nothing else as an embarrassment to the president," said Gene Sprinkle, 62, a telecommunications consultant. "But as to whether there was a legitimate crime committed, I have doubts. It's almost become a witch hunt."
"I live in Mount Pleasant," said another diner who said he couldn't give his name because his wife works on a prominent political talk show. "I wish we had a grand jury impaneled to get the guy who shot the dog-walker on Irving Street. I wish they put that many resources into solving crimes that actually affect people's lives as opposed to the political class."
But Vincent Poppiti, retired chief judge of family court in Delaware, he's following the case closely. "When people at high levels of government decide to break the law -- if they have -- it's important to pay attention."
Bush himself had said something similar, pledging to fire anyone involved in leaking the name of the covert CIA operative, but that was long ago. Yesterday, the president returned to the South Lawn at 3:50 to make a brief statement before heading to Camp David for the weekend. He took a long walk from the Oval Office to a small podium and spoke for a little over a minute in brief, informal sentences, as Fitzgerald did.
"Today I accepted the resignation of Scooter Libby," he began, said, "I got a job to do," and ended with, "Pretty soon I'll be naming somebody to the Supreme Court," before walking back to Marine One.
"Mr. President, are you embarrassed?" boomed a question across the lawn.
The president stiffened visibly -- his lips, shoulders and spine. He walked alone and silently to his helicopter. A moment later, Harriet Miers climbed the stairs, too, off for a working weekend in the mountains of Maryland, a woman who had become so quickly yesterday's news.


