Look, if I’m Donald Trump’s lawyer and fixer and he comes to me in 2015 and says he’s going to run for president, the first thing I do is send someone down to 47th Street in Manhattan to buy about $1 million in gold
coins. South African krugerrands, preferably. Or maybe American Eagles issued by Uncle Sam.
I stick them in the office safe, handling them only with gloves. And if a porn star comes along with an embarrassing story about The Donald and I want to pay her hush money, I meet her in a parking garage at midnight and hand her the payoff in a bag. Even better, I tell her beforehand that I’m going to turn up wearing a Richard Nixon mask as a disguise. And that I’ll whistle “La Marseillaise” as a signal. So, then, if she ever decides to break the agreement and go public, what has she got? “I’m a porn star, and I had sex with Donald Trump and he paid me to keep quiet.” Really, what’s your evidence? “I’ve got a bag of gold coins. His lawyer gave them to me in a parking garage at midnight. While wearing a Richard Nixon mask and whistling the ‘Marseillaise.’ ” Uh, OK, ma’am. We’ll call you back. What is wrong with Donald Trump and Michael Cohen? …