The Clintons' War on Women (9 page)

Perdue, another Miss Arkansas, had an affair with Bill Clinton from August to December 1983. Clinton trysted at her home twelve times, when his daughter Chelsea was only three years old. “I still have this picture of him wearing my black nightgown, playing the sax badly,” Perdue recalled.
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Clinton ceased the affair when Perdue said she wanted to get into politics and run for mayor of her town.

Throughout 1992, with Clinton running for president, the secret police were turned out in full force. They correctly estimated Perdue was a threat to “talk.” Democratic operative Ron Tucker was dispatched to tell Sally to tell perdue to remain a “good little girl” in exchange for a nice federal job. However, “If I didn’t take the offer then they knew I went jogging by myself and couldn’t guarantee what would happen to my pretty little legs. Things just wouldn’t be so much fun for me anymore. Life would get hard.”
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Perdue had a friend secretly watch the conversation with Tucker, which she later reported to the FBI.

Perdue turned down the job offer, and the Clintons turned up the terror. First, Perdue was fired from her job as an admissions officer at Linwood College. Then she received hate mail and nasty phone calls. One of her hate letters said “Marilyn Monroe got snuffed.”

Perdue was so terrified of the Clintons that she left the country and headed to China before the general election. “The feature of Perdue’s story that transforms Clinton’s behavior toward her from mere philandering to real mistreatment is his use of smear and scare tactics to bully her into keeping quiet,” wrote Candice Jackson.
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The mainstream media refused to cover Perdue during the 1992 campaign and also neglected the campaign waged against her. They
did not cover the illegal $60,000 bribe offered to her by Ron Tucker. Perdue had interviews taped with ABC, NBC, and
Sally Jesse Raphael
, but none of them went to air. They were shelved by the networks.
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CHAPTER 5

ATTACK IN THE OVAL OFFICE

I
n 1993, Kathleen Willey was a volunteer in the White House Social Office in the Clinton administration. By the fall of 1993, her husband, Ed, a prominent lawyer and Democratic fundraiser, was in deep financial straits. He had stolen from his clients and was in a deep tax debt.

Willey, who had met Bill Clinton during the 1992 presidential campaign, asked for an appointment to see the president. Due to her husband’s financial turmoil, Willey was seeking a paid full-time salary with the White House. The appointment took place on November 29, 1993, in the Oval Office.

Shortly after Willey arrived, Clinton suggested they get some coffee in the mini-kitchen and move to his study. The mini-kitchen
was a side room where, due to its private nature, generations of presidents have engaged in amorous affairs; a sharp contrast to the large open space and prominent windows of the Oval Office. Monica Lewinsky would later remember that Clinton would use the sink in the mini-kitchen as a place to masturbate and spray his ejaculate.

Willey told Clinton about her financial woes and desperate need of a paying job. During her plea, presidential aide Andrew Friendly began knocking on the door of the Oval Office, loudly informing Clinton that he was late for his next meeting. Pressured for time, the president became more aggressive.

Clinton gave Willey a hug. The embrace lasted too long. He then started running his hands through her hair and on her neck.

The six-foot-two, two-hundred-twenty-five-pound Clinton was much bigger and stronger than the petite Willey, who stood almost a foot shorter and weighed a hundred pounds less.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I laid eyes on you,” the president said as his face reddened.

“Then he took my hand,” Willey remembered. “I didn’t understand what he was doing. The president put my hand on his genitals, on his erect penis. I was shocked! I yanked my hand away but he was forceful. He ran his hands all over me, touching me everywhere, up my skirt, over my blouse, my breasts. He pressed up against me and kissed me. I didn’t know what to do. I could slap him or yell for help. My mind raced. And the only thing I noticed was that his face had turned red, literally beet red.”
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Luckily for Willey, Friendly continued to bang on the door. Clinton had a big economic meeting scheduled with Treasury Secretary Lloyd Bentsen, OMB Chair Leon Panetta, and Laura Tyson, the head of the Council of Economic Advisors.

“I made a dive for the door, yanked it open, and burst into the Oval Office,” Willey said. “He followed me. As I scurried across that stately room, brushing my hair with my fingertips and checking that my blouse was tucked in, Clinton walked directly to his chair.
His lechery aborted, the president of the United States concealed the remains of his arousal behind John Kennedy’s desk in the Oval Office.”
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Linda Tripp later described the condition of Kathleen as “flustered: hair messy, red face, no lipstick, an overall disheveled wreck.”
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On the same day that Clinton was sexually assaulting Willey, Kathleen’s distraught husband went out to the Virginia woods to a small marsh, put a gun in his mouth, and pulled the trigger.

Following her traumatic encounter and the death of her husband, “I still had a mountain of debt and no income,” Willey recalled. “My legal and financial situation was dire. Some dear friends sent me a check that sustained me for two months, but the fact remained: I needed a job.”
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So Willey began using her lawyer, Dan, to write Bill Clinton letters—friendly letters that asked for a paying job to replace her volunteering in the White House Social Office. Eventually, Willey got a job that paid $20,000 per year plus health care for twenty-four hours of work per week.

Willey’s experiences with Hillary Clinton were dreadful. “She would emerge with her entourage, cursing up a storm,” Willey said. “And all day long, we heard her raised voice through the wall. Hillary always seemed to be miserable, unhappy, and angry.”
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Other witnesses to Hillary’s tantrums such as FBI agent Gary Aldrich said that it was quite a sight to see the First Lady shriek profanity at the president that ranged from “Come back here you asshole” to “Where the fuck do think you’re going?”
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“That’s the Hillary I saw,” Kathleen recalled. “I’ve walked behind her when she was cursing an aide with a
very
foul mouth. Then she would see somebody who mattered and instantly pour it on, all sweetness and light. A doey-eyed expression on her face, she’d act so sincere. The minute they were gone, she’d turn around and explode again, cussing a blue streak.”
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Hillary would play a big role in Willey’s life after she was dragged into the Paula Jones case. By February 1997,
Newsweek
reporter Michael Isikoff had caught wind of the president’s sexual
assault of Willey. Isikoff told Willey that he had gotten the information from the Jones lawyers.
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The Jones lawyers were eager to find other sexual assault victims of Clinton.

Isikoff, in hot pursuit of a scoop, was putting intense pressure on Willey to go on the record with a public account. “[Isikoff] pursued me and wouldn’t let up,” Willey said. “He called all the time. ‘Talk to me,’ he pleaded. ‘Talk to me on the record!’”
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Later in the year, the Jones lawyers were trying to get Kathleen deposed and under oath to describe what Bill had done to her. They were seeking to prove a pattern of sexual harassment by Clinton to add credibility to their case.

On July 25, 1997, the Jones team subpoenaed Willey to testify in their case. Matt Drudge posted a story about Willey regarding what she might say under oath.
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Well aware of her impending testimony, the Clintons began to engage in witness tampering.

After the Drudge story, Isikoff wrote an article for
Newsweek,
“A Twist in the Paula Jones Case.” The story quoted Clinton lawyer Bob Bennet, who said that the president “had no specific recollection of meeting” Willey.
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After the article ran, Isikoff received an anonymous phone call from a woman claiming to be the wife of an influential Democrat. The caller said she had met the president many times at political events and that sometime in 1996, he made a heavy, overbearing pass on her in the exact same spot in the Oval Office where he had sexually assaulted Willey. She said Clinton got physical with her, tried to kiss her, and groped her breasts. The mortified woman fought the rampaging pervert off and told Isikoff “I’ve never had a man take advantage of me like that.” Isikoff asked her what happened next. The female caller said, “I think he finished the job himself.”
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Bill, following the rejection, most likely masturbated until completion.

By mid-summer 1997, Kathleen Willey was a credible witness to Clinton’s outrageous sexual behavior.

Willey did not want to testify in the Paula Jones case, but by November 1997, it was ruled that she could be deposed. When she
heard the intimate details of Paula Jones’s story, Willey knew it was the truth, particularly the familiar description of Clinton’s flushed countenance as he advanced on Jones.

Willey was scheduled to be deposed in early January 1998.

Increasingly desperate, the Clintons and their associates took highly illegal actions.

“They threatened my children,” Willey said. “They threatened my friend’s children. They took one of my cats and killed another. They left a skull on my porch. They told me I was in danger. They followed me. They vandalized my car. They tried to retrieve my dogs from a kennel. They hid under my deck in the middle of the night. They subjected me to a campaign of fear and intimidation, trying to silence me.”
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The Clintons hired detective Palladino to “investigate” Willey. Palladino would be labeled as one of Clinton’s “secret police.”

The Clintons paid Palladino $93,000 in 1992 to do damage control on the women who were involved with Bill Clinton.
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Palladino was paid with campaign funds funneled through a law firm. Betsey Wright, the former chief of staff for Governor Clinton, was the “feminist” tasked to put pressure on the dozens of women who had had intimate encounters with the candidate. Wright was working hand in glove with Palladino to run suppression campaigns on these women that Michael Isikoff reported in a July 26, 1992, article, “Clinton Team Works to Deflect Allegations on Nominee’s Private Life.”
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Research into Palladino’s methods of “investigation” yield horrifying results. Think digging into a target’s past and present personal information and then using this information to make veiled threats and bare-knuckled attacks.

Writer Ian Halperin ran into the Palladino treatment when trying to publish a book on one of the PI’s celebrity clients. Palladino visited Halperin’s house and presented a long dossier he had complied on the author. “That’s an intimidation tactic, when some guy starts recounting addresses where you lived 15 or 20 years ago, where you worked,
your past girlfriends,” Halperin recalled. “He said he could make my life miserable.”
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After the Clintons hired Palladino, someone started making Willey’s life miserable. Three of her car tires were punctured by a nail gun. “I can remember standing at the tire place on a warm September day, waiting for them to fix my car,” Willey told attorney and bestselling author Candice Jackson. “The mechanic approached her, saying ‘It looks like someone has shot out all your tires with a nail gun; is there someone out there who doesn’t like you?’ I can hear the shiver in her voice as she says, ‘That really got my attention; that’s when I started getting worried.’”
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Not only were Kathleen’s tires punctured, but the car tires of a close friend were also ruptured.

In a clear case of targeted vandalism, one of Kathleen’s tires had nine nails shot in it; another tire had four nails in it; yet another tire had nine nails shot in the whitewall of it. Bullseye, Willey’s cat of thirteen years, suddenly disappeared. The missing pet added to Willey’s trauma.

Then, two days before Willey’s deposition, a menacing stranger approached her and asked about her car tire vandalism, her missing cat, and then mentioned her children by name.

At the time, Kathleen was wearing a cervical collar around her neck. She was living in a rural part of Virginia, walking her dogs alone in the early morning on a barren country road.

Willey was about one half mile from her home when a man came jogging toward her “dressed in dark sweats, running shoes, and a plain baseball hat.”
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Fixating his eyes on Willey, the stranger asked, “Hey did you ever find your cat?” Wiley replied that she had not. “Yeah, that Bullseye, he was a nice cat. He was a really nice old cat,” the stranger replied.
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The
mysterious man then asked Willey if she had gotten her tires fixed.
“Whoa—how did he know my tires had been vandalized a few months back?”
Willey asked herself. “I didn’t think I’d told any of my neighbors. I felt the hairs stand up on the back of my neck and a sickening feeling welled up in the pit of my stomach.”

“’Who are you?’ I demanded.”

“And how are your children doing? How are Shannon and Patrick?”
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Confronted with another barrage of intimate details, Willey was overtaken by a feeling of dread.

The stranger then mentioned her friend and her friend’s children by name.