The Tenth Justice (29 page)

Putting his hand over the mouth of his roommate, Nathan said, “Can you be more embarrassing? What’re you, ten years old?”

“He’s twelve,” Ben said. He rubbed the moon rock for himself and added, “It really doesn’t feel real. It seems synthetic or plastic or something.”

“See, I told you,” Ober said.

“It’s a real moon rock,” Nathan insisted. “Read the sign. It was brought back by the crew of the
Apollo Seventeen
. It’s nearly four billion years old.”

“Maybe the real rock was radioactive, and when it killed a bunch of tourists, they replaced it with this smooth piece of junk,” Ober said.

“I refuse to have this conversation,” Nathan said. “The only reason it’s smooth is because millions of goofball tourists like you feel the need to touch it.”

Touching it one more time, Ober said, “It’s so obviously not real. I want my money back.”

“Would you like to go to the next exhibit?” Nathan asked. “Is that what you’re telling me?”

“I’m starving,” Ober said. “I just want something to eat.”

The roommates walked to the east end of the building and entered The Flight Line cafeteria. After filling their trays with premade sandwiches and plastic-wrapped desserts, they chose one of the cafeteria’s empty tables. “Tell me about the lie detector. When do you have to take it?” Nathan asked.

“Two weeks from now.”

“What if you fail it?”

“I have no idea,” Ben said, unwrapping his roast beef sandwich. “I assume that won’t be a good thing, but they never said what would happen. I don’t think they’ll fire me on the spot, but I don’t think it’ll help my case. My main concern is that they don’t tell Hollis. If it gets to him, he’ll never trust me with anything.”

“I don’t understand why they picked today to call you. Was it because of Eric’s story?”

“Of course,” Ben said. “They said it reminded them that we hadn’t spoken in a while.”

“And I guess you haven’t told Eric that.”

“Absolutely not,” Ben said. “He might write another story about it. All I have to do now is figure out a way to pass the test.”

“Ben, I know I’ve asked this already,” Ober asked, his voice uncharacteristically serious, “but are you sure you want Eric to move out?”

“You know how I feel,” Ben said. “Let’s leave it at that.”

“But what if he—”

“The tests are beatable,” Nathan interrupted, shooting Ober a look. “I’m sure of that. I saw a special on PBS about how the military gives soldiers special drugs that lets them beat them. It somehow calms their heart rates.”

“I heard that if you remain calm and focus yourself, you can definitely beat it,” Ben said. “The common criminal usually panics.”

“But white-collar criminals like yourself can usually keep it together?” Nathan asked.

“That’s really funny,” Ben said. “You’re a laugh riot.”

“Maybe you can get those military drugs through the State Department,” Ober suggested to Nathan. “Now that you’re a big shot there, you should be able to get anything.”

“I can definitely try,” Nathan said. “It can’t hurt to ask.” Taking another bite of his burger, he said, “So, did Lisa say anything about this?”

“Can you stop with Lisa?” Ben pleaded. “Ever since we’ve been back from Thanksgiving, it’s been impossible dealing with her. When she asks me about anything, I clam up.”

“I told you it was a bad idea to have sex with her,” Ober said, shaking his head.

“This has nothing to do with the sex part. We’re both perfectly fine with that. I just feel like an asshole for lying to her. Maybe you can’t understand, but Lisa’s a good friend of mine. I know you don’t trust her, but honestly, I do.”

“So go ahead and tell her whatever you want,” Nathan said. “Sleep with her every night. Dig yourself deeper. You’re a grown man; it’s your choice. I just want you to face reality.”

“Listen, I’m not complaining. I’m just saying it’s uncomfortable to lie to someone’s face.”

“Well, you better get good at it. You have a date with a lie detector in two weeks.”

Ignoring the light snow that melted on the car’s front windshield, Rick watched the entrance to the Air and Space Museum. “What’s taking them so long?”

“I’m sure they’re just looking around. Now get back to the real question: Are you sure you can get the decision?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rick said, turning on the defroster. “We’ll definitely get it. My source tells me—”

“I wish you’d stop relying on this source. Simply being close to Ben doesn’t mean a thing. We need—”

“Trust me, I know exactly what we need. And if we don’t get the decision from our source, we can always get it from Ben. I should be meeting with him sometime next week—I’m just waiting for him to get back to me.”

“How do you know he’ll agree to meet with you?”

Watching Ober, Nathan, and Ben leave the museum, Rick grinned. “I know Ben. Given the opportunity to catch me, he can’t resist. He values his career too much to let me walk all over it. Besides, even if he can’t catch me, how many people can say no to a three-million-dollar finder’s fee?”

AT NOON THE NEXT DAY, BEN LEANED ON THE
file cabinets in the corner of the room, waiting for his first draft of the
Grinnell
dissent to roll out of the printer. Anxious to hand the opinion over to Lisa, he knew she would have to find it impressive. Wait until she sees it, he thought as the first page crawled out. This dissent is so strong, she won’t know what to do with herself. First, apologies will flow freely. She’ll beg for my forgiveness. She’ll swear that she’ll never doubt me again. Clearly, she’ll say, “You are the superior writer.” She’ll then rip off her clothes and lie naked on the desk.

As Ben smiled to himself, Lisa burst through the door carrying two medium-sized boxes. She put them on the sofa. “Where were you? You missed the anniversary party for Blake.”

“Big deal,” Ben said, grabbing another sheet from the laser printer. “I couldn’t care less that he’s spent ten years on the Court. Besides, I really wanted to finish
Grinnell
. I was close to the end and I didn’t want to stop the flow of genius that was oozing out of me and into my computer.” As Lisa walked back to her desk, Ben asked, “What’d Blake do, anyway? Shake hands and thank everyone for their support?”

“Basically. But it was really nice. All the justices were there, and all the clerks and support staff. It was only about a half hour, but it was nice.” Putting on her reading glasses, she added, “And you missed the inevitable confrontation between Osterman and Kovacs.”

“Did they really go to blows?” Ben asked, curious about the rumored hatred between the ultra-conservative Osterman and the semi-liberal Kovacs.

“Nothing happened, but they’re the only two who never talk to each other. And Joel told me that when Kovacs was originally appointed to the Court, Osterman greeted him by saying, ‘I hope you realize you have a great deal of reading ahead of you.’”

“Stop it.”

“I’m not joking,” Lisa said. “It was obviously a crack at Kovacs’s intelligence.”

“And what’d Kovacs say back?”

“I have no idea. That’s all Joel said.”

“It’s just so silly,” Ben said. “Some of these justices are almost seventy years old and they still behave like children. They’re like little kids in a sandbox.”

“That’s the way it works,” Lisa said as she sat at her desk. “The old justices haze the new justices. It’s like a geriatric fraternity. The newest justice gets the worst office, the worst seat on the bench, the worst section of seats reserved for their family. Even when the justices meet in Conference, the lowest-ranking justice is the one who has to answer the phone if it rings and answer the door if anyone knocks.”

“That’s not true, is it?”

“It’s definitely true. Go down to the basement bookstore. It’s written in all the books about the Court.”

“I can’t imagine it—justices hazing each other.” In a deep voice, Ben imitated Osterman and barked, “Hey, Kovacs, I want my chambers cleaned and dusted before oral args tomorrow! And if you’re not done, you’re not getting the
Mirsky
dissent! Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Osterman, sir!” Lisa said.

“What’d you call me?” Ben yelled.

“Yes, sir, Mr.
Chief Justice
Osterman, sir!” Lisa screamed.

Ben pulled another sheet from the laser printer. “I guess I can see that.”

“Meanwhile, are you really finished with
Grinnell
?”

“It’s right here,” Ben said as the final sheet rolled out. He slapped the thirty-page document on Lisa’s desk. “Hot off the press.”

“By the way, those boxes came for you,” Lisa said, pointing to the sofa. “There are seven more waiting in reception, but I couldn’t carry them all.”

Ben pulled his keys from his pocket and sliced open one of the boxes. Inside was a Columbia University Law School yearbook. Without saying a word, Ben closed the box and returned to his desk.

For the next half hour, he watched Lisa read his first draft, hoping to see a hint of reaction in her face. She’ll be a fool if she doesn’t like it, he thought. When she turned over the final sheet of the decision, Ben asked, “So? What do you think?”

“It’s an excellent opinion,” Lisa said as she put her reading glasses on the desk. “I’m definitely impressed. The fourth section is phenomenal. Pointing out the logical repercussions of the majority opinion is definitely the best way to shred it. Blake is going to be so pissed when he reads it.”

“So I was right.”

“Yes, yes. You were right. I’ll never doubt you again, Master-of-All-That-Is-Clerking.” Lisa pointed to the boxes on the couch. “Now what’d you get?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Just tell me what it is,” Lisa said, moving toward the box.

Ben hopped out of his seat to stop her. “It’s private,” he said, holding the box closed. “No offense, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

“What’s in it? A severed head? Sex toys? What’s the big secret?”

“Leave it alone!” Ben pushed Lisa’s hands away from the box.

Surprised by the intensity of Ben’s objection, Lisa stepped away from her co-clerk.

“I’m sorry,” Ben said. “I just don’t want you touching it.”

“If you don’t trust me, say it to my face.”

“Lisa, it’s not that, I just—”

“Don’t bullshit me. It insults both my intelligence and yours. It obviously has something to do with Rick. What else can be that important?”

“It has nothing to do with Rick.”

“Then show me what’s in the box.”

“Lisa, I can’t. I—”

“Ever since we got back from Thanksgiving, you’ve been acting creepy around me. I know it’s not the sex—I give you more credit than that. But it’s clear that you’re hiding something.”

“What am I hiding?” Ben asked.

“It’s just the way you act. You’re just…different. I can’t explain it. It’s some kind of Walden-like withdrawal. And then, when I walked in on your phone call last week, you said you were planning Ober’s birthday party. When I first met Ober, he told me he was born in the summer. He was complaining that summer birthdays suck because everyone always forgets them, and you don’t get any presents. Ben, in case you didn’t realize, it’s now December.” Lisa stared at her co-clerk in silence.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you.”

“Then tell me what’s in the box.”

“What?”

“You heard me. If you trust me so much, tell me what’s in the box.”

Ben reluctantly pulled open the carton. “They’re just old yearbooks. I was hoping that if I could pick out Rick’s picture, I’d have a better chance of identifying him.”

Tapping her foot against the floor, Lisa looked like she was ready to explode, her face crimson with anger. She pulled her wallet from her desk drawer, stormed to the closet, grabbed her coat, and opened the door.

“Lisa, I didn’t mean—”

She left the office, slamming the door behind her.

At eight that evening, Ben pounded on the front door of his house. “Open the door!” he yelled. Struggling to carry four boxes full of yearbooks, Ben felt his grip slipping. “Hurry up!”

“Hold on!” Nathan called out as he rushed to the door. “I’m coming!”

When Nathan opened the door, Ben staggered into the house and dropped the boxes on the couch. “There are a few more in the taxi. Can you help me carry them?”

Braving the cold without a jacket, Nathan ran to the taxi waiting in front of their house. He pulled three of the five boxes from the trunk of the car and ran back to the house, followed by Ben. Once inside, he said, “I assume these are the yearbooks.”

“Most of them,” Ben said as he took off his coat. “We’re still missing Harvard’s and Michigan’s.”

“I saw Blake’s anniversary party on the news. Were you there for it?”

“No, I missed it,” Ben said. “I was too busy getting reamed by Lisa. She was pissed because she finally realized I wasn’t telling her about Rick anymore.”

“How could she realize that?”

“Because she’s smart,” Ben said. “Unlike those grunts at the State Department, I work with brilliant, deductive people. When she saw the yearbooks, she realized things were going on without her, and she got a tad irate with me.”

“So you told her about the yearbooks?”

“I had to. I thought it was the only way to show her I trusted her.”

“And that didn’t work?”

“Are you kidding? Now she has concrete proof I was hiding stuff.”

“And so now the one person we don’t trust not only knows about our newest plan but is also intensely mad at you?”

“That sums it up,” Ben said. “Not a bad day at work, huh? Tomorrow, I think I’m going to smash a few mirrors to see if things can possibly get worse.”

Ober walked through the door. “I have the single best idea for a new restaurant!” he announced. “Better than Tequila Mockingbird!”

“Looks like you don’t have to wait until tomorrow,” Nathan said.

“Here’s the idea,” he said, throwing his jacket on the dining room table. “It’ll be the world’s first non-Jewish delicatessen.” As his arms flailed through the air, he explained, “There are way too many Jewish delis, and they all serve the same thing. But there are millions of people who don’t want the typical pastrami and roast beef on rye. So I’m going to open ‘Christ, That’s a Good Sandwich,’ the world’s first non-Jewish deli. Every sandwich will be served on white bread, and everything comes with your choice of mayo or cheese. It’ll be a gold mine!” Rubbing his hands together, he said, “If you guys want, you can be initial investors.”