The Tenth Justice (46 page)

“What’re you so nervous about?” Nathan asked.

“What do you think?”

“Can you both shut up?” Eric asked. “Stop fighting and relax for a second.” Pointing at Ben, he added, “Talk.”

“Thank you,” Ben said, lowering his voice. “I didn’t want to say this on the phone, but tomorrow morning, I’m turning myself in. Since the decision affects all of us, I wanted to discuss it with you first.”

“I don’t need to discuss it,” Nathan said. “I made my decision the moment I heard about Ober.”

“Good for you,” Ben said. “Eric, any thoughts?”

“It’s your call. I just hope you can handle the consequences.”

“I don’t see what choice I have,” Ben said. “What happened to Ober ripped my heart out. I got him fired; I put the rest of you in jeopardy. I have to end it.”

“That’s real noble of you,” Nathan said. “But I’m warning you, you better end it tomorrow.”

“Or what?” Ben asked defensively. “You’ll do it for me?”

“You’re damn right I will,” Nathan shot back. “And I won’t feel a single bit of guilt doing it. In fact, you’re lucky my boss doesn’t work weekends, or I’d have turned you in today.”

“Why don’t you relax a second?” Eric said.

“Why don’t you shut up?” Nathan said. “No matter how hard you stick up for Ben, he still isn’t going to forgive you completely.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Ben asked.

“What’s wrong with me?” Nathan replied, forcing a laugh. “Let’s see: My friend got fired yesterday; it was all your fault; my job’s on the line; and I don’t trust you or Eric. Other than that, I’m peachy.”

“Listen, you can—”

“No, you listen for once!” Nathan yelled as the wind whistled through the monument. “You have to get over this golden-boy complex. For once in your perfect life, you screwed up. You blew it. You choked. You made a big mistake, and now you have to take responsibility for it. If you were the only one at risk, I’d say do whatever you want. But if you think I’m going to stand around, with
my
career on the line while you continue your futile hunt for Rick, you’re out of your head. Face facts, Ben—you’re outsmarted. You lost. Give up.”

“Shut the hell up!” Ben flew from the bench and grabbed Nathan by the front of his jacket.

Immediately, Eric pulled the two roommates apart. “Ben, relax a second. Calm down.”

As Eric attempted to keep Ben at bay, Ben yelled at Nathan, “If you’d shut your damn mouth for a second, you’d realize that I didn’t come here to plot against Rick. I came here to talk to my friends.”

Ober walked into the living room and placed a pile of books on the coffee table: four high school yearbooks and one overstuffed scrapbook. Picking up the ninth-grade yearbook first, Ober flipped to his roommates’ class portraits and smiled at the furry block that was Nathan’s hair. When he reached Ben’s picture, he laughed out loud. It had been at least four years since he’d last opened his yearbook and looked at the messy-haired, brace-faced, gawky nerd named Ben Addison. Turning to Eric’s picture, Ober remembered his desire to sleep over at Eric’s house, inspired primarily by the fact that Eric’s brother had the largest collection of pornographic playing cards in the neighborhood.

When he opened the tenth-grade yearbook, Ober again skipped to the class portraits. He remembered the year they got their driver’s licenses. Eric was not only the first to drive, he was also the first to crash—directly into Nathan’s mother’s car as she pulled out of her driveway. Thumbing through the eleventh-grade book, Ober remembered their first college party at Boston University. He laughed as he thought about Ben, who spent the whole night trying to convince the ladies he was “Ben Addison, Professor of Love.”

Opening his personal scrapbook, Ober was proud he had so thoroughly documented his friends’ achievements. He had the articles that appeared in
The Boston Globe
when Nathan was photographed with the secretary of state and when Ben received his Supreme Court clerkship. He had the first news story Eric wrote for the high school newspaper, as well as his first stories for
Washington Life
and the
Washington Herald
. He had the
Herald
’s first word jumble, as well as Eric’s article about a leak at the Supreme Court. He even had Ben and Lisa’s engagement announcement. Everyone’s famous, he thought, closing the book. They’re all superstars.

“Don’t act like you’re the victim here,” Nathan said, straightening the front of his jacket. “That’s the last thing you should—”

“I never said I was the victim,” Ben retorted, as Eric kept him away from Nathan. “I know I screwed up. I admit it—it’s my fault Ober lost his job. What else can I say?”

“There’s your problem,” Nathan said in a soft and slow voice. “You think you’re only responsible for Ober losing his job. But you have to realize that you’re responsible for much more than that. It’s your fault this whole thing started, Ben. And more important, it’s your fault it’s still going on.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Ben’s voice cracked. “It kills me that I—”

“Oh, so now you feel guilty?”

“I’ve felt guilty since the first day I met with Rick. What else do you want me to say? This thing’s been eating away at me for months.”

“It should be,” Nathan said. “And I hope—”

“We get the picture,” Eric interrupted. “Now can you let up a little?”

“No, I can’t,” Nathan said. “I want to make sure he knows how I feel about this.”

“I know how you feel—” Ben began.

“No, you don’t,” Nathan insisted, his voice growing louder. “If you did, we wouldn’t be fighting right now. Since the day we got those letters from Rick, you knew this might happen. At that moment, you should’ve had the decency to turn yourself in—if not for your own sake, then certainly for ours. The fact that you let it come to this tells me one thing…”

“That I’m an evil person with no redeeming qualities?” Ben asked.

“No,” Nathan said, regaining his composure. “That I want nothing more to do with you. Ever.” As Ben and Eric fell silent, Nathan continued, “This isn’t high school anymore. We can’t always be on your side. And don’t think this is about me being selfish. You let Ober take the beating for your mistake. That’s something I can never forgive you for. He’s your friend, and you owe him more than that.”

“I know,” Ben said despairingly. “And I’ll deal with him.”

“You better,” Nathan said. “This is bigger than some dumb slipup with
CMI
, or
Grinnell
, or—”

“Can you keep your voice down?” Ben interrupted.

“What’s wrong?” Nathan asked. “You’re still worried Rick is listening in on us? That he’s making tapes of our conversations?”

“Shut up,” Ben said.

Nathan ran to the edge of the monument. “HEY, RICK! ARE YOU LISTENING? I HOPE YOU CAN HEAR THIS….”

“Shut the fuck up!” Ben screamed.

“…BECAUSE THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING! STAY THE HELL OUT OF MY LIFE! IF YOU KNEW BEN WAS SCARED OF GOING TO THE AUTHORITIES, YOU SHOULD ALSO KNOW THAT I’M NOT!”

“Nathan, stop it!” Eric yelled. “We get the point.”

Nathan turned back toward Ben and pointed a finger at him. “I’m not joking about what I said before. I don’t care what you do. I’m going to my boss Monday morning.”

“You do that,” Ben said, staring intently at the statue of President Jefferson.

“Don’t be mad at me,” Nathan said. “This one’s not my fault.” He wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket. “Eric, you ready to go?”

“I’m going back with Ben.”

“He doesn’t have a car,” Nathan pointed out.

“We’ll take a cab.”

“Suit yourself.” Nathan walked down the stairs and headed toward the parking lot.

As Nathan’s car pulled into the driveway, Ben and Eric’s taxi pulled up to the house. “That made a lot of sense,” Nathan said as the three roommates headed for the door.

Ignoring the comment, Ben opened the front door and stepped inside.

“You should tell Ober what’s going on,” Eric suggested.

“I know,” Ben said. “But I don’t want to say anything in the house.” He noticed the yearbooks on the coffee table. “What was he doing tonight?”

“Probably reminiscing about better times,” Nathan said.

“I wasn’t asking you,” Ben said. Atop a pile of yearbooks, Ben saw a single sheet of white paper and picked it up.

“Dear Ben, Nathan, and Eric,” he read to himself. “I’m so sorry. I can’t possibly explain my actions to you, but I didn’t know what else to do. You’ll probably think this is another stupid Ober idea, but please understand that there’s no other way I’d be happy. For as long as I can remember, you have carried me forward, and I have held you back. Tell my mother she can go to hell, and tell Rick that I hope he drops dead. Also, tell my boss that I wasn’t trying to advance my career—I really want her to know that. If I can ask you one last favor, please take it easy on each other. I will miss you more than you’ll ever know. You’re my best friends and I love you. Ober.”

“Oh, my God,” Ben said, running toward the stairs. “OBER!!” he screamed.

Instinctively, Nathan and Eric followed.

“OBER, ARE YOU IN THERE?” Ben screamed, pounding on the locked door to Ober’s room. Ben turned to Eric and Nathan. “I think I found a suicide note!”

“OBER! OPEN UP!” Nathan screamed, pounding on the door.

“Break it down,” Ben said frantically.

“Move out of the way.” Nathan took a couple of steps back, then threw all his weight against the door.

“Again!” Ben said.

Once again, Nathan rammed his body into the door.

“KICK IT!” Eric shouted. “HURRY!”

Nathan rammed his foot into the door, and the door frame buckled. He rammed it again, and the door flew open. They all ran inside.

Ober was dangling against the closet door, a belt taut around his neck. “Omigod!” Eric said. “Omigod! Omigod!”

“Help me get him down,” Ben said as he and Nathan grabbed Ober’s legs and struggled to support his body. “Eric, open the door.”

Eric was hysterically crying. With his hands shaking and the tears rolling down his face, he didn’t even hear Nathan’s request. All he could see was Ober. “He’s dead!”

“OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!” Nathan screamed.

Eric pulled open the closet door, and Ober’s body slumped forward and fell to the floor. Instantly, Nathan rolled Ober on his back and started CPR.

“Hurry!” Ben said as Nathan pinched Ober’s nose. Taking a deep breath, Nathan tried to breathe life back into his friend.

“Look at his eyes!” Eric said, unnerved by the blank stare on Ober’s face. “He’s dead.”

Nathan shut Ober’s eyes and looked at Ben. “Get Eric the hell out of here.”

“Eric, go downstairs,” Ben said. “Call an ambulance.”

As Eric ran out of the room, Nathan pumped Ober’s chest and then listened for a heartbeat.

“There’s no pulse!” Ben said, holding Ober’s wrist.

“He’s all white,” Nathan said, looking at Ober’s pallid complexion.

“Keep trying,” Ben demanded. “Do it again!”

Futilely filling Ober’s lungs with air, Nathan continued to administer CPR.

“DON’T STOP!” Ben screamed, reading the disheartened look on Nathan’s face. “DO IT AGAIN!”

Once again, Nathan tried to bring back his friend. He pumped against Ober’s chest with his full strength, and did everything he could to elicit any sign of life. He listened closely for a heartbeat, but eventually pulled away. “Forget it. It’s over.”

“Let me try,” Ben said, pushing Nathan aside.

“Ben, it’s over.”

“Help me take him downstairs!” Ben demanded, lifting Ober’s feet. “Maybe the ambulance can revive him. They have that shock machine—”

“It won’t do any good,” Nathan said, sitting on the floor and leaning against Ober’s bed. “He’s gone.”

As the paramedics rolled the stretcher out of the house, Ben gave the suicide note and the leather belt to the policemen assigned to the scene. After interviewing the three roommates, one of the officers gave Ben his card. “I’d like to talk to you more about this.”

“We’ll come down tomorrow,” Ben said. He felt emotionally drained. Shutting his eyes, hoping to somehow shut out reality, Ben attempted to quell the throbbing pain at the back of his neck.

“I’m really sorry about your friend,” the other officer said.

“Thanks,” Ben said, walking the two officers to the door. When the police car and the ambulance pulled away from the house, Ben shut the door. Collapsing on the floor, he rolled on his back and tried his best to think clearly. A minute later, he turned toward Nathan, who was sitting at the glass table in the dining room. “Where’s Eric?” Ben asked.

Nathan peered through the glass, staring at his feet. “He’s in his room talking to his mom.”

“Is he okay?”

“Under the circumstances,” Nathan said. “When he gets off the phone, you should call Ober’s parents.”

“
I
have to call?” Ben asked. “I can’t do that.”

“Oh, yes, you can.” Nathan got out of his seat and headed for the stairs.

“Why me?” Ben asked, following his roommate.

“You’re the one responsible,” Nathan said curtly.

“Don’t you dare say that,” Ben warned.

Nathan turned from the stairs and looked at Ben in disbelief. “You’re not responsible?” he asked, approaching Ben. “Whose fault is it, then?” Nathan stood face-to-face with Ben in the living room. “Is it Ober’s fault? No, it can’t be Ober’s fault. Maybe it’s Rick’s fault. Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe it’s Senator Stevens’s fault.”

“It’s nobody’s
fault
,” Ben interrupted.

“So no one’s to blame?” Nathan asked. “This is something that just happened out of the blue?”

“Obviously, it didn’t just
happen
. And if it weren’t for me, Ober would probably still be alive. But that doesn’t mean I killed him.”

“No, you just put the belt around his neck.”

An angry silence filled the room. “You can really be a bastard, y’know that?”

“I just want to make sure that you—”

“That I what?” Ben interrupted, his eyes filled with tears. “That I blame myself? That I think it’s my fault? Don’t worry—I do. I hold myself one hundred percent responsible. I’m the one that put this whole thing in motion, and it’ll haunt me for the rest of my life. Until the day I die, there won’t be a single day that I don’t feel guilty about this.”