Q: Mr. Copan, you're known to millions as the architect of the recent treaty between the U.S. and the Haitian republic.
A: Yes, but I certainly wasn't the only one involved. The state department put together a good team to support my efforts.

You see, I was never lacking in modesty. I knew better than to hog the glory--there was plenty to go around. I was just an American, doing his duty. Even when I found out about the files they were keeping on me, well let me just say I didn't see any reason why a lapse in oversight on the part of our elected officials should color my beliefs.

Q: Can you fill us in on your background? What made you qualified to lead the negotiating team?
A: There are some things I can't comment on. Things that are still, you know, classified. So I can't talk about those things. But I had the skills, and I had the belief. I believe in this country and all the good things we can do.
Q: No one in the world doubts that, Mr. Copan.

That wasn't an understatement. I know many folks thought otherwise. But I have an affadavit in my files that says just that. There's no question there. You can look it up.

Q: You must have been operating under a severe strain. Your wife recently left you, am I correct?
A: That's correct, but I could put that aside. It wasn't relevant. I mean, personally, sure. But nationally, patriotically, intellectually, I was above and beyond that.

No one thought I could do it. The press was full of stories. I'm sure you remember. They said I wasn't fit for the job, that I couldn't possibly pull it off. It was a tough negotiation. But I did it. Yes, I did.

Q: The treaty was, to be sure, a fine piece of work. What gave you the inspiration to pull it off?
A: I draw my inspiration from myself. No outside sources. I didn't have anyone whispering in my ear, telling me what to do. I'm my own man.
Q: No one doubts that, Mr. Copan. Still, it's amazing what you acheived.
A: I know that. No one should be more amazed than me. I amazed myself. I mean, I got off the plane and it hadn't hit me, right? But the next morning I read the papers and that really brought it home. I really achieved something special there.

She'd left me because she said I was nothing, less than nothing. She wouldn't have left if she'd known everything, but I couldn't tell her the secret stuff. National security. I remember she said to me, give me one good reason not to walk out the door. I couldn't say anything. I had nothing to say. I could have said something, but I swore an oath. I'm not going to break that.

-- Police found the body this morning, cause of death an apparent suicide. --

I couldn't tell her about my secret work. My work for the government. You know, she wanted me back. After the press was full of my work in Haiti. She came crawling back, just like I knew she would. I said no. I told her to get lost. I'd proved myself to everyone, even to her, but it was just too late for us. I didn't have another chance to give.

Q: Mr. Copan, you have done your country a great service. You have all our gratitude.
A: I know. I know that. It makes me feel good, let me tell you. But let me tell you what's better. The feeling I get knowing that our country is a better, more prosperous place because of my work.
Q: You're an incredible man, Mr. Copan. No one doubts your abilities. People I know say to me, "Say thanks to Mr. Copan for me. I owe him everything." So do we all.
A: Yes. It's true. But don't go on, you don't need to tell me these things.

That interview was really the turning point. I keep a copy in my files. After that interview I got so much mail. So many phone calls. Beautiful women would stop me on the street to say how nice I looked and how much they admired me. I'm not a proud man. I just did what I had to do.

I would walk outside and people would cheer. Old men, men who fought in World War Two, would stop and salute me. I mean, I wasn't in the armed forces. Not officially. I can't talk about that. But they knew, just looking at me, all they needed to know. No one disputes my fighting prowess. I can be a tiger when I have to. I know a lot of things I can't talk about.

At the garage, I tell you the others looked at me with new respect. They'd never known the caliber of man they were working with. Kind of like my wife. But they knew now. Customers came in that day and after that just because I worked there. It was a cover assignment. Sure, I knew about cars and I could fix them good. But it wasn't a real job. I was really rich. I had lots of money. But I had to look like I had a real job. Not that my job was bad. It was a good, honest job. I worked hard. It wasn't good enough for my wife, though, but I couldn't tell her about the Swiss bank accounts. I couldn't say anything about that. Still even so she should've been glad to have a man like me. It was her loss.

The President asked me to be a special advisor. I told him, if I'm going to be a special advisor I'll tell you the kind of advisor I'll be. I'll be an advisor for the common man. The voice of the people. I'm in touch with normal folks. I am normal folks. I told him I could be his pipeline to the public. He said that would be fine, and so I began writing letters every week. I'd tell him about my life that week, about what happened to me. About what people were worried about, what they were talking about. I would keep my eyes open and look for suspicious activity. I would write it all down. I took pictures of everyone in my area, compiled files on them, sent a huge report to the president on all these people so he'd have context. My neighborhood was like a laboratory of democracy. Every voice was heard, every opinion mattered. I collected them all and I wrote them all down. I'd summarize them in my report that I made to the president. He read every word of it. Every week. He couldn't say he did, because of national security. But I would watch him on press conferences and I could tell.

Q: You're a great human being. Any woman would be lucky to have you.
A: I know that. I know all that. But I'm nobody special. Not very special, at least. I'm just a patriotic citizen doing his duty like anyone. Well, like most people at least.

You know that interviewer, she was a famous anchorwoman. I can't say who. I shouldn't. I want to protect her privacy. But if I just said her first name you'd know her. Like that. Yeah, she works for one of the networks. She's beautiful. I could see her eyes shining. She was in love with me. Most women I meet fall in love with me pretty quickly. They think I'm handsome and strong. They think I'm smart and creative. I never did anything about that. It would never be said aloud. They'd pretend that they weren't noticing me at all. But we always knew it.

This anchorwoman, this beautiful lady, she was different. I was single, she was single. We made love after the interview. Yes, I know she's married. I didn't know it then. I thought everything was on the up and up. I didn't know she had a husband. I wouldn't have slept with her if I'd known. But yeah, we went to bed. She was gorgeous. You should be so lucky. Don't you wish you were me? It's okay.

I've been with lots of beautiful women. Lots of them. I could name names. Pick three famous women and I've had one of them. But I'm discreet. I keep it quiet. I don't tell tales. I'm not going to tell you who. Just believe me. I keep files on them. But I won't show them to you.

-- Police found the body while trying to serve an arrest warrant on charges of sexual assault.---

Q: What are your plans now, Mr. Copan?
A: Well nothing special, really. I just want to get back to my job, back to my life.

Still, even I have to admit it was all downhill from there. Haiti was my triumph. Duty called and I responded. Things have been quiet since then. I've gotten a little lazy, I'm afraid. A little tense. But nothing I can't handle.

I'm getting ready for the big one, though. I've got a plan. I've been contacted by certain parties who I cannot reveal. They have some assignments for me. I think that very soon I will be famous again. It's not that I seek fame. I'm not out to be famous or something. Just want to serve my country. Do my part. That's all I've ever wanted.