AS one of the world’s most famous malts, The Glenlivet hardly needs the publicity. Let the record show, however, that Michael Cohen, former lawyer to Donald Trump, opted for a glass of the 12-year-old single malt as his drink of choice the night before pleading guilty in a New York court to breaking campaign finance laws.

Let it also show that Cohen, who once said he would “take a bullet” for his client, prefers his whisky like his revenge, on the rocks and ice cold.

History does not yet relate what Paul Manafort, Mr Trump’s former campaign manager, drank the night before he was found guilty of fraud charges. Given the expensive tastes revealed during his trial, including an ostrich skin jacket costing £11,000, one would like to think he supped on something rare and Scots.

Nor do we know if Michael Avenatti, the lawyer for Stormy Daniels, the adult film star and one of the two women Cohen pleaded guilty to paying off at the direction of "a candidate for federal office", raised a glass. He certainly had some words for Rudy Giuliani, Mr Trump’s legal representative: “Buckle up, Buttercup. You and your client completely misplayed this.” Ah, American lawyers, may you never change.

One could hardly begrudge Mr Trump’s opponents their moment of glee. Not one but two of the President’s former aides could be off to jail. All this before special counsel Robert Mueller delivers the findings of his investigation into Russian meddling in the 2016 election and any links to the Trump campaign. After a year and a half of watching criticism slide off the Teflon Don, the president is in a decidedly sticky spot.

Manafort is easier to explain away than Cohen, the former’s misdemeanours occurring before he became Mr Trump’s campaign manager. Cohen is different. While he did not name the “candidate” on whose behalf he acted when he made payments to two women who claim they had sex with Mr Trump, it hardly needs a Lieutenant Columbo to find him. What is wrong for a lawyer to do is wrong for a candidate.

Not that the president was showing any sign of panic yesterday. “Where is the collusion?” he asked a rally of cheering supporters. As a chant, it lacks the snap of “Lock her up!”, as used against Hillary, but the President has time to work on it. He is nothing if not resourceful in his own defence. He will need to be.

Mr Trump cannot be prosecuted while he is president. He can be impeached and removed from office, but the odds in favour of that happening are slim to non-existent at the moment. It would require a majority in the House of Representatives, which is do-able after the mid-terms, but it is the next step, achieving the two-thirds majority required in the Senate to convict, which is a barrier as tall as the wall Mr Trump wants to build between the US and Mexico. Even if the Democrats do well in November they would still require Republican senators to join them in moving against a Republican president. That will not happen as long as Mr Trump continues to enjoy the support of his party. At the moment, his approval rating among Republicans is 88 per cent.

Where, then, does all this leave America? There are two scenarios: he goes of his own accord, or he stays and fights.

In the first, Mr Trump, either because he acknowledges the damage being done to the office of president, or more likely fears the possibility of being prosecuted if he stays on and loses the next election, “does a Nixon” and goes of his own accord.

Judging by past performance and personality, that is a risky bet. From the start of his presidential adventure, indeed as far back as anyone can remember, Mr Trump has regarded himself as an outsider looking in. As the son of a very rich man that required towering levels of self-delusion. He believes himself to be a victim, but one, paradoxically, who has a lot of people on his side. As Mr Trump said during his campaign: “I could stand in the middle of Fifth Avenue and shoot somebody and I wouldn’t lose any voters.” He is almost allergic to the thought that he might be a loser, to him the ultimate insult. As for going quietly, forget it. His book was called The Art of the Deal but he draws a distinction between winning on his terms and “settling”, which he despises. His early years in business found him fighting with everyone, learning at the feet of his lawyer, Roy Cohn, once described by the New Yorker’s Ken Auletta as “a legal executioner – the toughest, meanest, loyalest, vilest and one of the most brilliant lawyers in America."

Still, the fallout from the Manafort and Cohen cases is not yet clear. Both could accept their punishment and slink off. But Mr Cohen, with his predisposition to taping his meetings with Mr Trump, seems like the kind of man who likes to keep things in reserve for a rainy day. Mr Cohen’s lawyer, Lanny Davis, said yesterday his client was happy to speak to the Mueller investigation and "tell everything about Donald Trump that he knows”. Manafort, meanwhile, is 69-years-old and looking at serious jail time, plus another court case.

It may yet come down to what politics always comes down to, the economy. Obama handed it over in good shape, and courtesy of Mr Trump’s tax cuts, Americans have more money in their pockets and feel confident about the future. Should the economy start to slow in 2019, as some predict, and the accusations against Mr Trump continue to pile up, the landscape changes. He begins to look like more of a liability to his party, more susceptible to an offer of standing down in 2020 in return for being pardoned by his successor.

If he fights on the country will become even more polarised than it is now. There will be no centre to hold. It is a grim outlook. The man himself joked yesterday that if anyone was looking for a good lawyer, he would strongly suggest they did not retain the services of Michael Cohen.

Well, you did, Mr President, so what does that say about you?