So, you used to vehemently deny that it was even possible that Clinton and Trump--a pair of well-connected New Yorkers--could have any connection at all. Now, presumably after having your nose repeatedly rubbed in the hard evidence, you can admit that she hand-picked him for his role.
But you still cannot conceive of the slightest possibility that she picked him--not Clint Eastwood, not Jack Nicholson, not Gary Busey, not any of the dozens of other charismatic, irascible, white middle aged male celebrities who could have done it just as well, but him--for a reason. A reason such as, maybe just maybe, she knew perfectly well she could count on him to do exactly what she would do and nothing she wouldn't do. Like, perhaps just perhaps, preserve, protect and defend the Federal Reserve from audit, continue to screw the healthy so the Medical Industrial Complex can continue to raise its exhorbitant prices, and further the Oil Patch Wars. No matter how many of his campaign promises he stomps into oblivion in the process.
Interesting. She could hand-pick him, but she couldn't have hand-picked him because he was reliable. Well, then.
You should be careful giving up those inches, no matter how much hard evidence there is forcing you to do so. Next thing you know, those inches will all add up to a mile...