The Tenth Justice (23 page)

“He knew the name—he said you guys were friends.”

“Do you keep any negatives on file?” Ben shot back. “Anything at all in case someone walks off with your pictures?”

“No. The negatives go right back to the customer.”

“I don’t fuckin’ believe this,” Ben said, walking to the door.

“You don’t happen to have security cameras here, do you?” Nathan asked. “Something that might’ve snapped a picture of our friend?”

“I’m sorry, we don’t,” the clerk said. “They were stolen when we were robbed last March.”

“Unbelievable,” Ben said as he left the store.

Waving to the clerks, Nathan said, “Thanks for your help,” and walked outside. Running to catch up with Ben, he said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left the photos in there overnight.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ben said. “I should’ve seen this one a mile away. This was just dumb. I could’ve been here early this morning.”

“How do you think he knew? Do you think there was someone following us when we left you at the restaurant?” As he struggled to keep pace with his friend, Nathan asked, “Did you tell Lisa where the photos were?”

Ben was silent.

“You told her, didn’t you?”

Again, silence.

“Answer me,” Nathan demanded. “Did you tell Lisa about the photos?”

Coming to an abrupt halt, Ben threw his arms in the air and screamed, “YES! I TOLD HER! What the hell do you want me to say? I told her they were at a camera store a few blocks away!”

“Now why’d you do that? I told you—”

“I told her because I trust her. And when I speak to her, I don’t worry about guarding my thoughts—she’s my friend. So no matter what you say, until you have proof that it’s Lisa, I won’t believe a single bit of your conjecture.”

“What kind of proof are you waiting for? If she put a knife in your back, you’d say it wasn’t her because you didn’t see her with your own two eyes.”

“Lisa has nothing to gain by talking to Rick. If she was after the money, she’d leak the decisions to Rick herself.”

“Is that what you think?” Nathan asked. “What about this scenario: Rick and Lisa are conspiring, and Lisa is leaking the decisions to Rick. The only problem is that if word gets out that information is leaking, there’s no fall guy. Enter one befuddled clerk named Benjamin Addison. Get enough information on him, and if anything ever goes wrong, you have an instant scapegoat. All they need to do is keep amassing evidence of your involvement.”

Ben walked silently for almost a block. Finally, he said, “I don’t agree with you, but I understand what you’re saying. When we get back from Thanksgiving, I’ll be happy to talk about it, but until then, I want to enjoy my time at home. Lisa’ll be with me and I refuse to suspect her the entire weekend.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t take her home with you,” Nathan said.

“Get it out of your head. She’s got her ticket and she’s coming home. That’s the end of the discussion.”

“It’s your life,” Nathan said.

“THEY DECIDED
GRINNELL
,” BEN SAID, COMING
into the office carrying a stack of books.

“How do you know?” Lisa asked, looking up from the paperwork on her desk. “Conference isn’t over yet.”

“Oh, yes, it is,” Ben said, dumping the books on Lisa’s desk. “Osterman just buzzed his clerks and told them they’ll be writing the majority. Veidt finally went to the dark side.”

“Says who?”

“I just saw one of Blake’s clerks in the elevator. He had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. Historical-monument-destroying prick.”

“I can’t believe this.” Lisa picked up the phone. “Where’s Hollis? How come no one told us?”

“I don’t think now’s such a good time to call. He’s probably pissed about it.”

“Are we definitely doing the dissent?” Lisa asked, returning the phone to its cradle.

“That’s my guess. I’m not sure, though.”

“Why’re you so upset?” Lisa asked. “I thought you were in favor of seeing it as a taking of property.”

“I am,” Ben said. “I just don’t like seeing the vampires win. They played dirty on this one.”

“Did they say what the final vote was?”

“It was five to four. Apparently Osterman convinced Veidt that if New York’s zoning was allowed to protect the church, Grinnell and the other owners were going to bear a disproportionate burden.”

“So Osterman’s decision is based on a disproportionality argument? Are you sure it isn’t challenging the legality of zoning?”

Shaking his head, Ben said, “If they attacked the zoning directly, they couldn’t get all the votes they needed for a majority. Blake’s clerk said that was the only way they could get Veidt on board. So Osterman’s decision is going to say that the benefits of historic monuments are enjoyed by the whole city. Therefore, the preservation of such monuments is a burden that should be borne by the city, not by individuals.”

“So if New York wants to protect the church, it’s going to have to pay Grinnell and Associates the expected future value of the property?”

“You got it,” Ben said. “Grinnell just got the golden ticket, and he doesn’t even know it. He’s going to reap all the profits of a mall complex that he’s never going to have to build. That should teach the city to interfere with a private citizen.”

“How can you think that’s fair? This was so obviously planned by Grinnell. He bought that property with a constitutional lawyer at his side. He knew the city would freak if he said he was going to raze a church to open a mall. And the bigger he said his plans were, the more he knew he’d collect if the Court went his way.”

“C’mon,” Ben said. “This case took three years to reach us. You don’t really believe the whole transaction was legal speculation?”

“I don’t think it was all speculation, but I do think Howard Grinnell is a piece of shit. You read the record—he’s an uptight greedy developer who was born with a silver stick up his ass.”

“That was in the record?” Ben asked. “I never saw that.”

“You know what I mean. I just can’t believe Veidt was such a coward,” Lisa said, flipping her legal pad to a clean page. “We have to write a scathing dissent for this. I want to limit this decision as much as possible.”

“Don’t worry. Veidt’s lack of enthusiasm limits their opinion to this set of facts. By the time we’re done with it, this decision will look like it came out of a traffic court.”

Lisa put her pencil down and took a deep breath. While a halfhearted vote by a justice ensured victory in the case at hand, it usually also led to a halfhearted decision. And if history was any indicator, halfhearted decisions rarely made strong legal precedents.

“Besides,” Ben said, “this decision will be overruled in a year. When Blake steps down, you know we’re going to get a liberal justice.”

“I know,” Lisa admitted. “It’ll just annoy me to see Grinnell take home all that cash.” Looking up from her desk, she added, “Have you thought about how Rick fits into all this?”

“I haven’t figured it out yet, but my guess is that if he knew the decision, he’d try to buy a piece of Grinnell’s action.”

“Have you decided whether you’re going to tell him? Or is there a new plan to catch him on tape?”

“I’m not sure,” Ben said. “I just have to survive Thanksgiving with my family.”

“Where the hell is Ober?” Ben asked Nathan as the two friends stood in their living room, suitcases by their sides.

“He probably got lost on his way home,” Nathan said. “The simpleminded are easily confused.”

“I say we leave his ass,” Lisa said, returning from the kitchen with a can of soda in her hand. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll miss the flight.”

“Trust me, we don’t want that,” Ben warned. “If he misses the plane, his mother will be on our backs all weekend.” Ben screeched in imitation of Ober’s mom: “You’ve forgotten my baby! Where’s my baby?”

“He’s an only child,” Nathan explained to Lisa. “His mom’s a bit possessed.”

“You mean
possessive
,” Ben corrected.

“Oh, yes, I mean
possessive
. Silly me,” Nathan said, repeating the friends’ old high school joke.

“GET ME OUT OF HERE!” Ober announced, flinging open the front door.

“Where the hell were you?” Ben asked.

“There was an emergency at the office,” Nathan said sarcastically. “There was an outburst of rowdy orange-juice-subsidy letter writers who needed swift attention.”

Ober pointed at Lisa. “I didn’t know you were flying with us.”

“And she’s not even paying for it,” Ben said. “My parents are picking up the tab.”

“Are you kidding me?” Ober asked. “If I knew free airfare was involved, I’d have told your mom that
I
was sleeping with you.”

“I appreciate that,” Ben said. “Now can we get out of here?”

Ober grabbed his suitcase from his room and returned to the living room. “Where’s Eric?” he asked.

“ERIC!” Nathan called out. “WE’RE LEAVING!”

Eric walked down the stairs with a navy duffel bag and joined the group without saying a word to anyone. They all packed into Nathan’s Volvo and headed for National Airport.

“They’re going to lose our luggage,” Lisa said, after the skycap loaded their bags onto a dolly and rolled them toward the conveyor belt.

“What makes you say that?” Ben asked.

“I just saw what Scrooge here tipped him,” Lisa said, pointing at Ober.

“How much did you tip him?” Nathan asked, watching to make sure that his bags were loaded on the conveyor.

“I gave him a dollar,” Ober said.

“You gave him one dollar for five bags?” Ben asked.

“Good-bye, suitcase, it was nice knowing you!” Lisa called to her luggage.

“What’s wrong with a dollar?” Eric asked.

“For one bag, nothing,” Ben said. “But if you have five bags for five different people, a dollar tip says, ‘Throw these bags in a volcano. I have no use for them.’”

“Just relax,” Eric said as the group walked inside the terminal. Turning to Ober, he added, “Nothing’ll happen. You’ll see.”

With only two days until Thanksgiving, National Airport was swarming with people. Fighting the irate crowds, the friends made their way through the X-ray machine and toward their gate.

Ober scanned the row of shops and eateries that lined the terminal. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he took off in a mad dash.

“Lottery tickets,” Ben said to Lisa.

As the remainder of the group arrived at the boarding gate, they waited at the back of a single, weaving line. Eventually, Ober returned, red-faced and breathing heavily. “Let me guess,” Ben said. “You won.”

“First I bought one ticket and I lost,” Ober explained. “Then I bought another ticket and I lost. Then, I bought a third ticket—”

“And you lost,” Nathan said.

“…and I lost,” Ober repeated. “But then, I bought the fourth magical, wonderful ticket…”

“And you won.”

“…AND I WON!” Ober screamed as everyone in line turned around. “I WON TWENTY BUCKS RIGHT THERE!”

“He has a small chemical imbalance,” Ben explained to the onlookers. “With a little medication, he’ll be fine.”

“You won twenty bucks?” Nathan asked. “What’d you buy us?”

“I didn’t buy you squat,” Ober said. “If you want to make fun of the lottery, you will not reap its rewards.”

“You won twenty bucks and you didn’t buy your friends anything?” Ben asked. “I’m starving here.”

“Me, too,” Eric said. “I’m going to grab a slice of pizza. Does anyone want anything?”

“I’ll take a slice,” Ober said.

“Make it two,” Nathan said.

“Make it three,” Lisa said.

“Ben, do you want a slice?” Eric asked.

“No,” Ben said, looking away. “Thanks.”

When Eric stepped away from the line, Ober tapped Ben on the shoulder. “Don’t be such a hard-ass. He’s trying his best to make up.”

“Too bad,” Ben said. “I’m not ready to make up right now.”

“Just be nice,” Nathan begged. “Even if it’s only for the weekend.”

“Don’t worry,” Ben said. “I’ll be fine.”

“Are you nervous yet?” Ben asked, when the plane landed in Boston.

“A little,” Lisa said, wiping her palms on her jeans.

“You should be,” Ober said. “Because Sheila Addison is about to eat you alive.”

“Did you bring the garlic and the wooden stake?” Nathan asked.

“If you ever feel like there’s a lull in the conversation, just look her straight in the eye and say, ‘Are you my mommy?’ You can always use that in a pinch,” Ben said.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Lisa said.

Shaking his head, Ben said, “Just remember—you wanted to come here. I tried to persuade you to stay home. Therefore, all blood is on your hands.”

“I think I’ll be able to handle it,” Lisa said.

When the plane reached the gate, the narrow aisle filled with people. Ben got up from his seat, but was unable to stand upright in his row. Cocking his head to the right, he crossed his arms and waited impatiently. Directly behind him, Eric was stuck in the same position. “Don’t you just love this?” Eric asked, forcing a laugh.

“Actually, I hate it,” Ben said.

“Listen, can we just pretend it didn’t happen?” Eric asked. “It’ll make for a nicer weekend.”

“No, Eric, we can’t pretend it didn’t happen.” Ben scowled. “No matter how much you want to make it go away, it’s going to be with us for a long while.”

“Why? Why can’t we just start over? I’m sorry already. I’m sorry it happened.”

“You make it sound as if it happened by itself,” Ben said. “But in case you didn’t realize, you’re the one responsible. You did it. Understand?”

“Big deal. I did it—I’ll live with it. Why can’t you?”

Noticing the passengers who started to stare, Ben lowered his voice. “Because I don’t like you anymore. Get that through your damn skull and leave me alone.” As the passengers began to disembark, Ben inched closer toward the aisle. Eventually able to straighten his neck, he stood between Lisa and Nathan.

“What was that all about?” Nathan asked.

“Nothing.” Ben said.

“Is there anything else you forgot to tell me about your family?” Lisa asked.

“Just one thing,” he said, taking a deep breath and smiling at the thought of the coming weekend. “Don’t touch my father’s plate when he’s eating. He’s very territorial.”