The Tenth Justice (30 page)

“Maybe you can get a cooperative crossover deal with Wonder Bread,” Nathan said.

“That’s not a bad idea,” Ober agreed. Noticing the sullen expression on Ben’s face, he asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Lisa found out that we were planning against Rick without her, and now she thinks we don’t trust her.”

“She’s right,” Ober said. “We don’t.”

“She also won’t speak to Ben anymore. She hates him and wishes he’d disappear.”

“Awwww, don’t let that get you down.” Ober sat next to Ben. “Lots of women hate me. It’s not that bad.”

“Why are you in such a good mood?” Ben asked, staring at his roommate. “I haven’t seen you this manic since you ate that whole bottle of Flintstone vitamins.”

“I’m just happy,” Ober said, putting his arm around Ben. “I have good friends, a good home, a good job—” Ober noticed the boxes that covered the small couch. “Are those the yearbooks?”

“Those’re them,” Nathan said. “The proverbial straws that broke Lisa’s back.”

“I really wouldn’t worry about her.” Ober turned back to Ben. “You guys are good friends. You’ll make up soon.”

“It’ll be fine,” Nathan agreed. “I mean, look at you and Eric. You guys are making improvements by leaps and bounds.”

An hour later, a large tomato and garlic pizza was delivered to the house. After everyone had grabbed a slice, the roommates turned their attention to the yearbooks scattered around the living room.

Dressed in gray sweatpants and a black-striped T-shirt, Ober sat with his feet up on the sofa. “I don’t even understand why we have to do this,” he moaned, staring at an old Stanford Law School yearbook. “I have no idea what Rick looks like. I’ve never seen him before.”

“Just keep flipping,” Ben said. “I told you what he looks like. He has a really thin head and permanent bags under his eyes.”

“That’s half the people in here,” Ober complained. “No offense, but lawyers aren’t the physical gems of society.”

“You’re looking because I need your help,” Ben said. “If you see someone that fits the description, highlight their name. That way, there’s less of a chance that I’ll overlook them when I go through it.”

“But you still have to look through them yourself,” Ober said.

“Just shut up and look,” Nathan said.

“These people are all starting to look the same,” Ober said two hours later. “Every class is the same: bald guy, ugly guy, ugly girl, bald guy, ugly girl, bald girl.”

“They’re certainly not a pretty bunch,” Nathan agreed.

“I think we should have a contest,” Ober said. “The person that finds the ugliest picture wins.”

“What do you win?” Ben asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Nathan said, sitting up on the couch. “I just won. Take a look at this freak.”

Passing the book to Ober, Nathan pointed to a picture of Ben from his days at Yale Law School. “Look at you,” Ober said. “What’d you comb your hair with that morning? A rake?”

“It definitely wasn’t my best hair day,” Ben admitted, looking at the picture.

“I’ll say,” Ober said. “It looks like you slept with a small box around your hair. It’s almost a perfect square.”

“We should try to find Lisa’s picture,” Nathan said, moving toward the Stanford pile. “She graduated the same year as you, didn’t she?” He flipped through the appropriate yearbook. “She’s not in here,” Nathan said after a minute. “She’s apparently camera shy.”

“Really?” Ben asked suspiciously.

“See for yourself,” Nathan said, handing Ben the yearbook. “She’s nowhere to be found.”

Ben scanned through the last names that started with S. Finding no picture, he flipped to the back of the photo section and saw Lisa’s name among the list of “Not Pictured” students. “Y’know what I was just thinking?” he finally asked. “What if…”

Before Ben could finish his thought, Eric opened the front door, stepped inside, and shook the snow from his hair. “It’s almost midnight,” Ober said, looking at his watch. “This is an early work night, even for you.”

“What’re you guys doing?” Eric asked, immediately noticing the yearbooks scattered around the room.

“If you don’t mind, this is private,” Ben said.

“Nice to see you, too,” Eric said to Ben. “By the way, I wanted to talk to you about your note.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Ben said. “Just let me know what your decision is. I won’t fight you on it.”

“But what about—”

“I don’t want to discuss it now. So unless you have an answer, can you excuse us? I want to discuss something in private.”

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?” Eric asked, scratching at the five o’clock shadow on his chin.

“No, I already told you what—”

“Ben, if you expect me to move out, the least you can do is spare half an hour. Now, can we please talk tomorrow?”

“Fine,” Ben acquiesced, grabbing a piece of pizza crust from his plate. “I’ll find you tomorrow.”

As Eric walked up the stairs, Nathan asked, “What was that about?”

“I left him a note that said I wanted his decision as soon as possible. If he doesn’t move out after New Year’s, I will. I just need to know so I can start looking for a place.”

“Ben, please don’t do this,” Ober pleaded. “You guys can work it out.”

“No, we can’t,” Ben said. “We’re way beyond working it out. I know the idea upsets you, but we can’t all be best friends for the rest of our lives.”

“Don’t say that,” Ober shot back angrily. “All you have to do is—”

“I don’t have to do anything. Whatever Eric decides, I’m abiding by. I really don’t care at this point.”

“You don’t care?” Ober asked. “How can you be so dense?”

“
I’m
dense?” Ben responded. “This is coming from the man who wants to open a non-Jewish deli, and who thinks Mussolini is a kind of pastry,
and
who thinks it’s a federal crime that the Air and Space Museum doesn’t sell bombpops! This is the person telling me
I’m
dense?”

Looking as if he had the wind knocked out of him, Ober was silent.

“What?” Ben asked.

Nathan turned to Ben. “Was that really necessar—”

“I’m not stupid,” Ober said, his voice shaking. “I may not be as great as Super Ben Addison, but I’m not a moron.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben said defensively. “I was just trying to—”

“You were just trying to make yourself feel better,” Ober interrupted, his eyes welling with tears. “You did what you always do—pick on Ober and get everyone laughing again. That’s the best way to deal with a problem. Yes, sir, that’s the best thing I can think of. Forget about the fact that I constantly take the fall. You just keep doing what you do best.”

Caught off guard by Ober’s outburst, Ben didn’t know what to say. In all their years together, after all the teasing Ober had taken, it was the first time Ben had ever seen his friend crack. “Calm down,” Ben began.

“I don’t want to calm down,” Ober said, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “You guys may get a big laugh out of it, but I’m sick of being court jester. I’m not a failure.” Ober’s face turned scarlet. “I’m not a failure and I refuse to be treated like one.”

“No one thinks you’re a failure,” Nathan reassured his friend. “Now take a deep breath and relax.”

Ober turned his head away.

“I’m really sorry,” Ben said. “I never should’ve taken it out on you.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Ober said.

“I knew you were upset about Eric moving out, and I shouldn’t have pushed your buttons like that.”

“I’ll get over it.”

Silently staring at Ober, Ben wondered how a calm conversation had turned into such a disaster. He knew Ober was upset about Eric, but he could tell he had struck a deeper nerve in Ober’s self-confidence. “You know I don’t think you’re a failure.”

“I know,” Ober said. “And I’m sorry for getting so crazy. It just really bothered me.” Leaning forward on the couch, Ober took a deep breath and stared straight at the floor. “It’s not even about Eric moving out. It’s about the four of us. If we’re all going to be together, the two of you have to work it out.”

“To be honest, I don’t think that’s possible anymore,” Ben said, sitting down next to Ober. “You have to be prepared for that possibility.”

“Can’t you just—”

“Ober, I’m doing the best I can.”

“No, you’re not.”

“We don’t have to go through this again,” Ben said. “The choice is in Eric’s hands now. Let’s wait and see what happens.”

“Fine—we’ll wait,” Ober said as he stood up from the couch. “But if you wreck these friendships, I want you to know I won’t forgive you.” Without saying another word, Ober walked upstairs.

When Ober was out of sight, Nathan looked over at Ben. “You really have to take it easy on him,” Nathan said.

“I knew he was upset, but I didn’t think it was that bad. When he started crying, I thought
I
was going to break down. I felt like someone had kicked me in the stomach.”

“Does that mean you’re changing your mind about Eric?”

“For Ober’s sake I’d like to, but you know I can’t. Right now, my main concern is still catching Rick and getting myself out of this mess.”

“That’s fine,” Nathan said. “But do us all a favor? Don’t forget your friends.”

Early the following morning, Ben took the Metro to Union Station and headed to Mailboxes & Things. As he approached the store, he wondered if everything would work out with Eric. It’s the only way, he reassured himself. This is the best solution to the problem. Just sit tight and see what happens.

At the store, he pulled an unsealed envelope from his back pocket, removed the typed letter inside, and reread it for the fourth time. “Dear Rick: Since we’re almost three weeks away from decision time, I thought it would be appropriate for us to get together. As we discussed in the limo, I have what you requested, and you have what I want. Please pick an appropriate time and place as soon as possible.”

Stuffing the letter back into the envelope, Ben placed the envelope inside his empty P.O. box. He wondered if Rick would believe that he was interested in the money. After locking the box, Ben walked to the front of the store. Maybe we should stake out this place, he thought. Rick will have to come here to pick up the letter—unless he sends a messenger to get it. Deep in thought, Ben pushed open the door and accidentally bumped into an incoming customer.

“I’m sorry,” the customer said. “My fault.”

Ben recognized the voice with shock and looked up. It was Rick.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Rick said. “It makes you look like a little kid.” As Rick stepped into the store, Ben turned around and walked in behind him.

“You followed me here, didn’t you?” Ben asked.

Ignoring the question, Rick pulled out his own key and opened the P.O. box. He removed Ben’s letter, opened it, and read its contents. “I agree,” he eventually said. “Now where would you like to meet?”

“I asked you a question. Did you follow me here?”

“Why so upset?” Rick asked with a thin smirk.

“Because you piss me off. And don’t think I’ve forgotten about Thanksgiving. I know that was you with my dad. If you ever go near my family—”

“Can you please stop with the threats?” Rick asked, waving Ben off. “You’re worse than the guys in my office.” Looking past Rick’s shoulder, Ben couldn’t help noticing the other customers filling up the store. Following Ben’s glance, Rick turned around. “Makes you want to scream, doesn’t it? You finally have me in broad daylight and there’s not a single camera in sight. If you were really bright, you would’ve had one of your friends follow you here.”

“Maybe I did,” Ben said.

“Not even in your dreams,” Rick said, amused. “Face facts—until you’re able to I.D. me, you need me. Now, as far as where we’re meeting, I’d like to do it in the airport. At five o’clock next Saturday, go to Washington National. Pick up the white courtesy phone, and there’ll be a message waiting for you. Follow those instructions, and I’ll see you soon after that.”

“I don’t want to meet in the airport,” Ben said, hoping to stall. “It’s too crowded. Let’s pick someplace else.”

“It’s the airport, or it’s not happening,” Rick shot back. “And if I were in your position, I’d stop screwing around. After that lie detector test, you’re going to need a new job anyway.” Rick slid the letter into the inside pocket of his camel-colored coat, turned around, and headed to the door. “See you next week.”

Following Rick outside, Ben frantically looked around the parking lot, hoping to at least get a look at Rick’s license plates. “Damn,” he whispered to himself when he saw Rick hail a passing taxi. Ben attempted to hail another cab, furiously waving his hands in the air. “TAXI!” he yelled. Watching Rick’s taxi fade down the block, Ben struggled to keep it in sight. When it eventually made a left-hand turn, he knew Rick was gone.

Ben walked down his block, cursing himself for not anticipating Rick’s actions. Wondering what he should do at this point, he realized that he now had only a week to come up with a plan. As Ben turned onto the front path to his house, he tried to predict where in a busy airport Rick would most likely want to meet. Maybe someplace private, like one of those executive lounges. When he opened the front door, Ben saw no one in the living room or the kitchen. He took off his coat, put it in the closet, and headed upstairs. By the time he reached the second floor, Ben heard the sound of running water coming from the upstairs bathroom. Unconcerned with who else was home, he was deep in thought about how Rick knew about the lie detector test. Ben’s thoughts were interrupted when he opened the door to his room and saw Eric rummaging through his top desk drawer.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Jesus!” Eric said. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“How about answering my question? Why the hell were you going through my drawers?”

“I was looking for a stapler,” Eric said. “I wanted to put up some flyers in the coffee shops up the street. I do have to find some new housing. Now, do you want to see my flyers, too?”

Ben pulled open a desk drawer, pulled out a stapler, and handed it to Eric.

Eric took the stapler and started for the door. “Thanks for all your help.”

Rick glanced at his watch as he strolled through the lobby of the Washington Hilton. Stepping into the elevator, he readjusted his tie and rested his hands in the pockets of his brown tweed suit. When he reached the tenth floor, he was exactly fifteen minutes late. As he wandered through the corridors, he caught sight of his visitor, waiting outside room 1027.