The Tenth Justice (28 page)

“He’s definitely organized,” Nathan admitted.

“I’m telling you,” Ben said, tossing the bills on his desk, “I’m really worried that we’ll never be able to find him.”

“Don’t say that. He’s smart, but he can’t be that smart.”

“I used to think that, but I think he may be that smart.”

“Don’t get down on yourself. You ordered the yearbooks, didn’t you?”

“I did it yesterday. They’ll be here next week at the latest, which—” Suddenly, Lisa entered the office. Ben grabbed the phone bills and slid them into his desk drawer. “No, I definitely agree,” he said to Nathan. “Ober gets pissed whenever we forget his birthday.”

“Did Lisa just walk in?” Nathan asked.

“Oh, yes. Absolutely,” Ben said. “That’s why we should pretend we forgot it this year.”

“Do not say a single word to her.”

Looking at Lisa, Ben said, “Nathan says hi.”

“Hey,” Lisa said.

“She says hi back,” Ben relayed. “Meanwhile, I have to go. Justice and righteousness call.” Hanging up the phone, he turned to Lisa. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing really,” Lisa said. “You guys planning Ober’s birthday?”

“Yeah,” Ben said. “He gets pissed if we forget it, so we’re all going to pretend we forgot it. Then we’ll take him out to dinner or something.”

“Wish him a happy birthday for me.”

“I definitely will,” Ben said as he fidgeted with some paper clips.

“Meanwhile, have you heard about the nomination?” Lisa walked over to Ben’s desk and leaned on the corner. “Rumor has it that Kuttler’s going to be the president’s nominee.”

“Says who?” Ben asked.

“Says Joel, who heard it directly from Osterman. Apparently, the president called Osterman as a courtesy. It’s going to be announced tomorrow.”

“If it is true, that’s just sad. Kuttler’s a poor choice.”

“Why? Just because he’s not a legal genius like you?”

“He doesn’t have to be a legal genius, but I do expect him to be above the mean.”

“Oh, c’mon. He’s not an idiot.”

“Of course he’s not an idiot. But he’s nothing special. He’s okay. Average. Blah. A mop. A sieve…”

“I got it.”

“You know what I mean, though. He’s obviously bright, but I think that Supreme Court justices should be the absolute top of their field. They should be the most cutting-edge legal thinkers of their time.”

“Well, welcome to reality, but the political process says otherwise. Unless you’re confirmable, it doesn’t matter what you scored on the I.Q. test.” Lisa stood up from the corner of Ben’s desk and headed back to her own. “What’s wrong with you lately? You’re constantly whining.”

“I’m just having a bad day.”

“Well, don’t take it out on me,” Lisa said. “It’s not my fault.”

Early the following morning, Ben walked downstairs to grab a quick breakfast. As soon as Ben entered the kitchen, Nathan asked, “Have you seen today’s paper?”

“No,” Ben said, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. “What happened? Eric write another story about me?”

“Close,” Nathan said as he handed the front page of the paper to his roommate. The lead story’s headline read:
KUTTLER GETS THE NOD; PRESIDENT PICKS NOMINEE
. Eric’s name was on the byline.

“How’d he know about this?” Ben asked.

“It’s no big deal,” Nathan said casually. “Every paper carried the story. Apparently, the information was leaked last night.”

When Ben saw a similar headline on
The Washington Post
, he breathed a small sigh of relief.

“I’m just impressed they let Eric cover such a big story,” Nathan said.

“It
is
the Supreme Court,” Ben said. “That’s his specialty.”

“Give him a break. He’s been keeping his distance for the last month.”

“Nathan, I’m not joking around with this. He’s not getting a break, and my deadline still stands. If Eric doesn’t move out by the New Year, I will. Either way, one of us is out of here.”

“And who’s going to pay for his part of the rent?”

“We can either find a new roommate or I’ll pay for it myself.”

“You’d actually pay double the rent, just so you wouldn’t have to look at him? Are you sure that’s the best solution?”

“What do you expect me to do? Give him a big hug and tell him all is forgiven? It’s not happening. If this were a silly little spat between friends, that’s one thing, but Eric went way beyond that. He—”

“Listen, I don’t need the speech,” Nathan interrupted. “I’m on your side. Ober’s really upset by this and
he’s
on your side. If you want Eric out of the house, that’s your decision. I just want you to consider all your options.” Flipping through the newspaper, Nathan asked, “Have you ever stopped to think what Eric might do back to you if you do make him move out?”

“What are you talking about?” Ben asked in disbelief.

“I’m just saying that if you made me move out, I’d be pretty pissed at you. Maybe I’d even write another story about you for revenge.”

“I dare him to write another story,” Ben said, seething. “I’d rip his head off. And then I’d—”

“Calm down,” Nathan said. “He hasn’t written anything. It was just a hypothetical.”

Ben took a sip of his juice. “You don’t really think he’d do that, do you?”

“If he did it once…”

“Are you telling me I should make up with him just so he doesn’t hurt me further? Are you absolutely nuts?”

“I didn’t say make up with him. I just think you should watch your back.”

Ben waved hello to Nancy, Hollis’s secretary, as he walked through her office on his way to his own. “Hi, Ben,” Nancy smiled back. Nancy had worked for Hollis for almost twenty years. She’d been with him when he was a judge on the D.C. Circuit, and she was one of the five people in his office the day he found out about his nomination to the Court. A matronly woman with graying brown hair, Nancy would probably work for Hollis until the day he retired. As far as she was concerned, there was no more exciting job in the world.

Nancy picked up a large envelope from the corner of her desk and held it out for Ben. “This just came for you. By messenger—must be important.”

“Thank you,” Ben said, and headed for his office. Before he took off his coat, he ripped open the package. Inside was the current edition of the
Washington Herald
. Eric’s byline was circled in red. Next to it was a handwritten message: “Still trust him?”

Asshole, Ben thought. Never lets me forget he’s around. Ben tossed the newspaper in the garbage and saw a pink message sheet with Lisa’s handwriting on it taped to his computer screen: “Call the Marshals Office. ASAP.” He pulled the message from his computer, crumpled it up, and added it to the garbage. Taking a quick glance at the Court’s telephone directory, he dialed. “Hi, this is Ben Addison, with Justice Hollis’s chambers.”

Seconds later, Carl Lungen, the chief marshal, was on the line. “Hello, Ben. How’re you doing?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Ben said, struggling to remain calm. “What’s happening there?”

“Nothing much,” Lungen said. “I just happened to see that your roommate had another scoop, and it reminded me that we haven’t spoken in a while.”

“Listen, you know I didn’t have a thing to do with that story,” Ben shot back, raising his voice. “Every paper in the country carried it today.”

“I didn’t say you had anything to do with it,” Lungen said. “I just said it made me think about you. The last time we spoke, you promised that you’d come see us after you confronted Eric.”

“I never promised you that,” Ben said. “Fisk asked me if I’d come. I said I’d think about it. Now, I don’t mean to be abrupt, but is there anything else you want to talk about? I’m really busy here.”

“Actually, we were wondering what happened with Eric.”

As Lisa entered the room, Ben said, “Eric and I aren’t talking anymore. He had no excuse for his actions, so I told him to fuck off. All he could say was that he wanted to help his career. Any more questions?”

“There was no other explanation for his actions?” Lungen asked.

Ben wrote the word “Marshals” on a scrap piece of paper and passed it to Lisa. “If there was, he didn’t tell me,” Ben said. “Anything else?”

“One last thing,” Lungen said. “We wanted to take you up on your offer to take that lie detector test.”

Ben froze in his chair. “I don’t see any reason why—”

“It’s just precautionary. You know we’re trying to keep this investigation low-key, so we haven’t notified the justices yet. If you don’t, though…”

“I’ll take the test.”

“Great,” Lungen said. “We scheduled it for the twenty-third. Is that okay?”

“Sure. That’s fine,” Ben said. “That’ll be fine.”

“Great. We’ll see you down here in two weeks. Say hello to Justice Hollis for me.”

Ben hung up the phone and stared at his desk.

“What’s wrong?” Lisa asked. “What’d they want?”

“They saw Eric’s story about Kuttler’s nomination, and they want me to take a lie detector test.”

“No way,” she said, throwing the scrap paper at Ben. “That was in every paper in the country. The announcement ceremony is today. The white House leaked it late last night so they could get two days of press out of it.”

“Tell that to the marshals.”

“They can’t make you take a lie detector test,” Lisa insisted. “It’s a violation of privacy.”

“Well, they scheduled it for the twenty-third. And I’m going to be there to take it.”

“Why?”

“I have to take it,” Ben said, rearranging a stack of papers on his desk. “If I don’t, they’ll tell Hollis everything they know, which’ll definitely get me thrown out of here. And even if they’re just bluffing about telling Hollis, if I don’t take it, they’ll be more suspicious than ever.”

“I’ll tell you when they’ll be suspicious: when you fail the test.”

“I won’t fail the test,” Ben insisted. “Those tests are beatable. That’s why they’re not admissible in court. They’re not foolproof. At this point, I may’ve done something wrong, but I didn’t do anything maliciously against the Court. If I keep a cool head, I bet I can pass it.”

“If you say so,” Lisa said, shaking her head. “But, I still think—”

“You know what? I just don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“But—”

“I said drop it,” Ben demanded, refusing to look at his co-clerk. “I’ll deal with it.”

Later that evening, Ben returned home covered in the first snow of the year. Wiping frozen clumps of hair from his eyes, he searched for the key to his front door and unlocked it.

“Put your stuff down, we’re going out!” Ober shouted as he threw on his coat. Getting no reaction from Ben, Ober stopped and searched Ben’s face. “What’s wrong with you? You look like crap.”

“Thanks.” Ben dropped his briefcase on the floor and let his jacket slide from his arm.

“Tough day on the job, dear?”

“Terrible day,” Ben said, undoing his tie and unbuttoning his collar. “The decision we’re working on still isn’t done. The Marshals Office is making me take a lie detector test. Rick’s on the loose. I can’t trust Lisa. My life is a mess.”

“They’re making you take a lie detector test?” Nathan asked. “They can’t do that.”

“I know they can’t, but they’ll tell Hollis if I don’t.”

“No offense, but are you coming with us or not?” Ober asked. “Nathan got promoted today and all we’re doing is moping around here.”

“You got the S/P job?” Ben asked. Nathan smiled. Ben gave him a bear hug. “Congratulations!”

“You are now looking at the newest member of the secretary of state’s policy planning staff,” Ober explained. “Whatever that is.”

“From now on, I get to muck with all the major policy work that comes through our department,” Nathan said.

“That is unbelievable!” Ben said. “I knew you’d get it. I hope you got a bigger office.”

“Bigger office, bigger computer, slightly bigger salary.”

“What more can you ask for?” Ben said. “And now I feel like a schmuck—here I was complaining when you had good news that you were waiting to tell me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Nathan said.

“Enough of this friendship crap,” Ober said. “Let’s go out and celebrate!”

Ben ran to his room and changed into jeans and a chocolate-brown Henley. “Where are we going?” he asked as he walked downstairs.

“Guess,” Ober said.

“Are we really going there?”

“Hey, it’s my promotion,” Nathan said. “Now, c’mon, it closes at eight.”

When the three friends arrived at the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum, they stepped through the large plate-glass doors and into the heart of the building. Within a minute, they were all gazing up at the Milestones of Flight exhibit. Among the collection of aerodynamic marvels suspended from the roof were the Wright brothers’ original flyer, the
Spirit of St. Louis
, and Nathan’s favorite,
Glamorous Glennis
, the first airplane to fly faster than the speed of sound.

“How many flights did the Wright brothers take that first day?” Ben asked, reading a short exhibit card about the Wright brothers’ first flight.

“Four,” Nathan said.

“What was the day?”

“December seventeenth, 1903.”

“Who flew first?”

“Orville flew first for twelve seconds,” Nathan said, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “But Wilbur flew the longest with fifty-nine seconds.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re so into this stuff,” Ben said, looking at a replica of
Sputnik I
. “You have no science background, your father isn’t in the military, your—”

“Can’t you simply appreciate the wonders of technology?” Nathan asked. “Can your legal mind even comprehend such a thought? We’re in the midst of science’s greatest feat—escaping the bounds of our existence.”

Ober walked over to an authentic moon rock brought back by the
Apollo 17
crew and rubbed the pale gray object. “This rock is so fake. It isn’t from the moon.”

“And you base this hypothesis on what?” Nathan asked. “Your vast knowledge of interplanetary geology?”

“It doesn’t feel real,” Ober explained. “It feels like it’s completely fake.” Turning around to the crowd of tourists that were walking near the exhibit, Ober announced loudly, “THIS ROCK IS FAKE! IT’S A HOAX!”