Stumbled upon this over in "enemy territory" in the printed edition of the New Yorker, and its now also published online in the: “April 1, Issue???? Were are definitely ahead of the news now…

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2019/04/01/the-increasing-pressure-on-donald-trump

It references a book, originally published in 1965 "Night of Camp David"

https://www.amazon.com/Night-Camp-David-Fletcher-Knebel/dp/B0007HQ960/

Seems to echo a lot of what is going on now… And might be some insight into what was known about the DS all the way back in 1965.

"One key character is a Supreme Court Justice by the name of Cavanaugh."

Call to DIG into this book and the author: Fletcher Knebel

Has quite a few novels: https://www.amazon.com/Fletcher-Knebel/e/B000APG8EC/

I know these shills at the New Yorker are using this to predict the demise of Trump but there is still an interesting connection here if not a strange foretelling of similar events.. It seems that this author was once in Intelligence so he may have had more info then he was letting on.

From the Article

Late last year, Vintage Books reissued “Night of Camp David,” a political thriller from 1965 that seemed to rhyme with the strangeness of our era. The novel centers on a Commander-in-Chief named Mark Hollenbach, who is gradually coming unwound. President Hollenbach is in the habit of summoning confidants to his cabin in the Maryland woods, where, at night, he turns off the lights and rants until dawn about the conspirators encircling him. He rails against pernicious legislators, disloyal appointees, and craven reporters. For no coherent reason, he intends to distance the United States from Western European allies and make common cause with a Kremlin leader named Zuchek. He also wants to tap every telephone in the country, declaring, “No respectable citizen would have a thing to fear. It’s the hoodlums, the punks, the syndicate killers, and the dope peddlers we’re after.” Lacking Twitter, he writes deranged letters. One key character is a Supreme Court Justice by the name of Cavanaugh. The marketers at Vintage shrewdly wrapped the reissue in a black-and-white cover emblazoned with a question intended to play upon the c