His Dark Journey

By last summer, Spitzer was wondering what he had gotten himself into, says a close friend who often spoke with him but declined to be identified discussing private conversations. The tabloids were jeering at "Eliot Mess," and even his defenders at The New York Times had grown chilly. The Great Crusader had been dragged down into the pits of Albany politics. This was about the time Spitzer began aping the sort of lowlifes he despised. He began consorting with prostitutes.

Spitzer had always loved risk, hurtling down black-diamond slopes (to his mother's distress) on ski vacations. Unlike more-cautious politicians, he was eager to go on "The Colbert Report"; he was unafraid of the quick give-and-take and liked to be challenged by the comedy half-hour's deadpan host. Spitzer appeared on the show on Feb. 12. The next day—the eve of Valentine's Day—he went to Washington; on the 14th, he was testifying before a Senate subcommittee on financial regulations.

According to federal records released last week, a "Client 9" had arranged to meet a prostitute named "Kristen" in room 871 around 10 p.m. Client 9 had registered under the name George Fox, one of Spitzer's donors. The Mayflower is a historic hotel. In room 776, one flight below the room where Client 9 was leaving the door ajar for Kristen, Franklin Roosevelt is said to have put the finishing touches on his 1933 Inaugural Address ("The only thing we have to fear is fear itself"). After midnight, Kristen reported back to her "dispatcher" that Client 9 had paid $4,300 for the session, including a down payment toward the next. The encounter had gone fine, though the dispatcher noted that Client 9 had been known to "ask you to do things that, like, you might not think were safe," according to federal records.

Federal investigators informed Spitzer that he was Client 9 on Friday, March 7. Remarkably, he attended the annual Washington Gridiron Dinner the following night, a press-and-pols extravaganza requiring hours of backslapping heartiness. Dressed in white tie and tails, Spitzer dutifully worked the room, though some observers later reported that he looked stricken. The next day he told his wife and family about the prostitute and the federal investigation.

It has been reported that Silda urged Spitzer not to resign. But a close Spitzer friend, Jan Constantine, who spoke sporadically to Silda last week, tells NEWSWEEK: "That first day was a very raw and emotional day. Several people, including Silda, said to Eliot, 'Don't do anything until you're in a better frame of mind.' I think her message was for him to take a deep breath and think things through before doing something rash. I don't think she was saying for him never to resign." This friend says Silda "is fiercely loyal to him, they have a good marriage, and she loves him very much. I don't think that's going to change. Not only is she fiercely loyal to him, she is also a very forgiving person. They will weather this."

The question is whether Spitzer can change. All his life, he has sought to match—or exceed—the expectations set for him. In psychological terms, his narcissistic disorder has finally caught up with him; his grandiosity has been deflated. Put more simply, this would be a good time to start thinking about how he could do something he really wants to do that is less grand but honorable and serves the public. A high school might not want to hire an ex-governor who consorted with prostitutes as a teacher, but his life experience would be a cautionary tale for all those young meritocrats who are desperately trying to please their parents.

With Sarah Kliff, Eve Conant, Mark Hosenball, Jessica Ramirez, Suzanne Smalley, Daniel Stone and Steve Tuttle

© 2008