The Tenth Justice (52 page)
Authors: Brad Meltzer
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Suspense, #Legal, #Thrillers, #Literary, #Political, #Washington (D.C.), #Law Clerks
Sitting outside of Hollis’s private office, Ben anxiously waited for the door to open. What’s taking so long? he wondered. Restlessly, he fidgeted with the sling on his left arm. Not since his first day on the job had he been this nervous about an encounter with Hollis. Twenty minutes later, the thick mahogany door opened, and Lisa walked out.
“How’d it go?” Ben asked. “What’d he say?”
“He’s ready to see you,” Lisa said.
“But how’d—”
“Go in and talk to him,” Lisa said. “He’s the boss. Not me.”
Uneasy as he stepped inside, Ben forced a smile and took his usual seat in front of Hollis’s desk. “Nice to see you,” Ben said.
With eyes that had watched the evolution of the law for more than thirty years, Justice Mason Hollis was the most accessible of the nine. The oldest of seven children and the father of five, he radiated a paternal presence. As a college baseball player at Yale, he was rumored to strike out on purpose when he felt the other team was losing by too wide a margin, and as a judge on the D.C. Circuit, he’d once granted an extension so that counsel could “get some sleep.” According to the employees of the Court, Hollis was the one justice no one feared. At this moment, however, Ben Addison was terrified.
“How are you doing?” Hollis asked. As his hand slid over his sparse white hair, his fingers brushed against the numerous liver spots that dotted his head.
“I’m fine,” Ben said, unable to look his boss in the face.
“Sounds like you’re lucky to be alive, yes?”
“I suppose.”
Hollis picked up a pencil and started nibbling on the eraser. “Don’t be so downcast,” he said. “You should be proud of yourself—quick thinking and all that.” Getting no reaction, he added, “A lesser person would’ve been beaten by this.”
“I’m just glad it’s finally over.”
Hollis smiled at Ben. “I have to tell you—when I hired you and Lisa, I knew you’d be a lively team. I didn’t expect you to be this lively, but that’s neither here nor there.”
Tapping his foot against the thick burgundy carpet, Ben wished Hollis would get to the point. He wanted to know Hollis’s decision. “Can I ask you a question?” he blurted. “Do I get to keep my job?”
“Ben—”
“Since I helped catch Rick, I’m not going to be criminally charged,” Ben said, his voice shaking. “The marshals said my record would stay completely clean, and they want to give me a commendation for helping them catch Lungen. They arrested him early this morning.”
“Ben, I’m sorry…”
“They said I could—”
“Ben, listen to me,” Hollis demanded. “Theoretically, you may be innocent, but you still violated the Code of Ethics of this Court. I have no choice but to let you go.”
At eight-thirty that evening, Ben returned home. Eric was in the dining room, hunched over a small canvas. Flicking drops of red, blue, yellow, and green paint from his fingers, Eric was trying to re-create the splatter painting that he had done directly on the wall. It was Eric’s fourth attempt to duplicate his earlier work; only a close match would be suitable to go in Ober’s coffin. Seeing Ben walk through the door, Eric rubbed his fingers with a turpentine-covered rag and headed toward the living room, rattling off questions: “What happened? Are you okay? How’s your shoulder? What’d they say? What took so long?”
Ben took off his coat and put it in the closet. He then turned toward Eric and gave a single answer. “I was fired.”
“What?” Eric asked as Ben moved into the kitchen. “I don’t believe it. Tell me what happened.”
Ben poured himself a tall glass of water. “There’s nothing to tell. They fired me. I told my story to Hollis. He listened. He tried to soften the blow. He fired me. Then he took me to see Osterman. After a long lecture, they let me leave. That’s it. I no longer work at the Supreme Court.”
Ben drank the entire glass of water.
“What else did they say?”
Ben ignored Eric’s question. “Where’s Nathan?”
“He drove back to Boston. Ober’s funeral is tomorrow.”
Slowly rotating his shoulder, Ben felt a heavy ache setting in. “Did he say anything?”
“He told me the story about Rick, packed up his stuff, and left.”
“Was he still mad?”
“I wouldn’t call him until we get to Boston. He’s pretty pissed off.”
“I understand,” Ben said. Pulling a small vial from his pants pocket, he read the directions for his pain medication. Ben poured some more water and took one of the tiny pink pills.
“So tell me what happened,” Eric demanded. “I just saw the story on the news.”
“Great,” Ben said sarcastically. “Did they mention my name?”
“No. It was just a short clip. They said someone named—”
“Mark Wexler,” Ben said as Eric struggled to remember the name.
“That’s it. Mark Wexler,” Eric repeated. “They said he was arrested for insider trading using confidential Supreme Court decisions. They didn’t have much information, so I wasn’t sure—”
“Mark Wexler is Rick’s real name,” Ben explained, turning back to the living room. “Apparently, he used to work in a high-powered Seattle law firm that did high-tech legal work for CMI and Charles Maxwell. About a year ago, he was fired for ethics violations—they thought he was buying stock in one of the cases he was working on.”
“So he has a criminal record,” Eric said as he sat on the small couch.
“No, he’s clean,” Ben explained. “The law firm could never prove anything. Whatever Rick was doing, he was good about keeping it secret. Even though they couldn’t find proof, the firm asked him to leave. It looks like he moved to New York after that, and he’s been living there ever since. When he needed to do business in D.C., he was only a shuttle away.”
“Amazing,” Eric said.
“I really don’t want to talk about him anymore,” Ben said. “He’s been the topic of conversation all afternoon.”
“Well, at least tell me what happened with Hollis.”
“There’s nothing to tell. Since the story was going to be announced to the public, they couldn’t just turn their backs on the whole thing. And if they let me stay, I’d be a stigma on the Court. I violated the Code of Ethics. If I wasn’t asked to step down, no one would take it seriously.”
“But you weren’t fired,” Eric clarified. “They asked you to step down.”
“There’s no difference,” Ben said.
“Was Hollis at least nice about it?”
“He couldn’t have been nicer. He told me how much he appreciated my work for him, and how he hoped we’d stay in touch. He said he’d write me a recommendation for my next job. He even said he was impressed with how we caught Rick. But it didn’t change his decision.”
“What’s going to happen to Lisa?”
“Nothing,” Ben said. “I made sure she was left out of it. As far as anyone’s concerned, she’s the co-clerk who designed the plan and helped me through the hard times. Otherwise, she had nothing to do with the original leak.” Ben rested his arm on one of the couch’s pillows and wondered how long it would be before the pain medication kicked in.
“What did Osterman say?” Eric asked.
“He was a typical jackass. He gave me a big lecture about the aims and ideals of the Court and how they could never be compromised. I really wanted to reach over and mess up his pathetic comb-over. I don’t know why they brought me to see him. Hollis had already fired me.”
“You should’ve grabbed the comb-over,” Eric said. “What’s the worst thing he could’ve done? Fired you again?”
“I guess,” Ben said, distracted.
“One last question?” Eric said, unable to shake his reporter’s instincts. “How did Burke convince Rick that he was Claremont?”
“After
Grinnell
, Lisa and I knew that Rick was going to try to get his money back. So we isolated all the cases on the Court’s docket that he could potentially make money on.”
“How many cases were there?” Eric asked, intrigued.
“There were only four involving major dollars.”
“So how’d Burke find Rick?”
“He didn’t,” Ben said. “Rick picks his own partners, so we had to figure out a way to make Rick find Burke. We staked out—”
“
You
staked out?” Eric asked.
“Actually, the marshals did all of the legwork, but Lisa came up with the idea,” Ben explained. “The Marshals Office watched the top executives at all four corporations—”
“But there are hundreds of executives at each one,” Eric pointed out.
“Not when you’re only looking at the ones with criminal records,” Ben said. “We figured that if Rick was going to look at a hundred executives and pick one, he’d probably go for the one who was most likely to break the law.”
“So they watched every executive until Rick made his move?” Eric asked.
“Better,” Ben said. “The marshals
replaced
every executive until Rick made his move. Burke stood in for Richard Claremont, American Steel’s executive vice president of marketing, who was previously convicted of tax evasion.”
“How many executives did they replace?”
“They couldn’t afford to do everyone,” Ben explained. “Especially if they wanted to keep it quiet. So we picked the twenty most likely candidates and we waited.”
“Wasn’t the real Claremont’s life disrupted?”
“All they did was take over his phone line. The real Claremont didn’t even change offices. The only difference was that his calls were routed to Burke. If it was a real client, he passed the call back to Claremont. If it was Rick, he kept it.”
“And you weren’t sure any of this was going on?” Eric asked.
“We didn’t know a thing,” Ben said, distracted by the throbbing pain that ran down his arm. “Lisa and I gave DeRosa the plan and the list of corporate suspects, but we never knew if it was implemented. I didn’t know how it played out until the car ride over here.”
“Unreal,” Eric said, leaning back on the couch. Noticing the vacant look on Ben’s face, he asked, “Are you okay?”
“I’m just feeling a little out of it. Between the pain and the medication…”
“You look like hell. Maybe you should get some sleep.”
“I feel like hell,” Ben said, rising from the couch.
“Cheer up. You had a huge victory today.”
Ben slowly made his way to the stairs. “Doesn’t feel like it.”
Eric pulled his notepad from his back pocket. “Ben, can I ask you one last favor? I don’t mean to be inconsiderate or obnoxious, but would you care if I wrote the story on this?” He looked at his watch and added, “I can probably make page one if I hurry.”
“Eric, go fuck yourself,” Ben said, climbing the stairs. “And you can quote me on that.”
TWO WEEKS LATER, ON SATURDAY NIGHT, BEN
walked into Lisa’s building. “Nice to see you,” the doorman said enthusiastically.
“You, too,” Ben said, trying not to make eye contact.
“Nice job with that whole thing,” the doorman added. “You’ve become quite the celebrity.”
“Thanks,” Ben said, stepping inside a waiting elevator. Getting out at the fourth floor, Ben went down the hallway to Lisa’s apartment and rang her doorbell.
“Who is it?” Lisa asked, peeking through the eyehole.
“It’s me,” Ben said.
“Wait a minute. Aren’t you that guy I saw on the news? That genius legal clerk who redeemed himself by catching the criminal mastermind?”
“Just open the door,” Ben pleaded.
When Lisa opened the door, Ben saw that most of the cuts on Lisa’s face and hands had fully healed. All that remained were a few thin, pink scars in the places where the glass cut deepest.
“Nice to see you,” she said. As Lisa leaned in to give Ben a kiss, she was surprised when he turned his cheek. “That’s what I get? A peck on the cheek?”
Ben walked inside and sat on Lisa’s couch. “Please don’t start,” he begged.
“What’s wrong?” Lisa asked.
“Nathan’s definitely moving out. He found an apartment, and he’s leaving this week.”
Lisa pulled out her desk chair and sat down. “I don’t know why you’re surprised. He said he was moving out when he got back from Boston.”
“I know,” Ben said, “but I thought he’d get past it. I figured—”
“You figured what?” Lisa interrupted. “That he’d forget about the fact that Ober’s dead? That he’d forgive you for almost getting him killed? That he’d eventually look back and laugh about the whole thing? This was a big deal, Ben. It’s been all over the news for the past two weeks. It’s not something that just goes away.”
“But I can still be upset when he leaves. He’s one of my closest friends, and he won’t talk to me.”
“You should be upset,” Lisa said. “But you should also give him some space. If you’re that close, he may eventually come around.”
“I don’t know,” Ben said. “I really think I’ve lost him.”
“That’s the problem with competitive friendships—they shatter at the slightest impact.”
“I don’t think this impact was slight. This was more like a freight train running over us.”
“Either way, it’s going to take a long time to put back together,” Lisa said. “How is Eric reacting? Is he taking sides?”
“He could care less,” Ben said. “You’ve seen what’s happened to him. He’s in his glory. As far as his boss is concerned, he broke this story wide open.”
“Are you still mad he used your quotes?”
“I’m not thrilled he quoted our private conversation, but what am I going to do? Besides, if it wasn’t for the slant Eric put on the original story, I don’t know if everything would’ve worked out as well. He’s the one who first called me the King of the Court.”
“King of the Court,” Lisa repeated, shuddering. “Is that the stupidest thing you ever heard?”
“It makes me sound noble and honorable,” Ben said, sticking his chest out.
“It makes you sound like an overhyped basketball star.”
“Make fun if you want, but that corny title has served me well. The media loves it.”
“Whatever you say, Your Lordship.”
Smiling, Ben asked, “How’s everything at the Court?”
“It’s fine,” Lisa said. “Same as yesterday. The new clerk sucks. He’s about as exciting as sawdust.”
“He can’t be that bad.”
“Trust me, he’s that bad. I brought him a sesame-seed bagel from the cafeteria last week, and he said he couldn’t eat it because he has a gap in his back teeth. He said the seeds would get caught.”
“I don’t believe it,” Ben said. “And you didn’t kick his ass right there?”
“I’m serious,” Lisa said. “You try and spend the day with someone who’s allergic to cheese. The guy’s a loser.”
“Is he smart?”
“Academically, yeah. He’s brilliant. But he can’t operate in the real world. He wouldn’t recognize a daring thought if it got lodged in his back teeth.”
“If he’s so drab, why’d Hollis pick him?”
“I think it’s because he was so drab. After you, they couldn’t afford another dynamic personality. They needed someone safe. And allergic to cheese.”
“Well, at least he has the job,” Ben said.
“Don’t give me that. Who cares about the job?”
“I care.”
“You of all people should not care. The only reason you worked there was to be in the position you currently occupy. Every clerk wishes they were in your shoes. You’re the talk of the entire town—the center of every legal circle. Wayne and Portnoy offered you another extra ten thousand even though you told their recruiting chair to drop dead. Every damn lawyer in America wishes they had the savvy of Ben Addison. What could you possibly miss about the Court?”
“I miss working with you,” Ben said matter-of-factly.
Surprised by Ben’s comment, Lisa asked, “You really miss me?”
“Of course I miss you,” Ben replied. “I miss you. I miss Ober. I miss his lottery stories. I miss…”
Lisa raised an eyebrow. “Ben, Ober’s gone, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”
“And Nathan’s gone. And Eric’s not worth keeping.”
“I know it’s hard,” Lisa said. “But you have to focus on the future. You’re starting a job at the U.S. Attorney’s Office—filling a position that usually requires at least two years’ experience. You jumped ahead of every damn applicant and got one of the best jobs in D.C. You’re going to be a prosecutor! You’ll be going after guys like Rick full-time. Isn’t that what you told me when you accepted the job? That you were thrilled because you loved to be in the chase? Now you’ll be in the chase every day.”
“And I’m still thrilled about that,” Ben agreed. “Considering everything I went through, I could be in a lot worse shape. But I can’t help it. I miss them.”
“You still have me,” Lisa said.
“I know,” Ben said warmly. “And that’s the luckiest thing that’s happened to me.”
“I’ll tell you why you’re lucky,” Lisa said. “You’re lucky I never told anyone who really designed the ‘secret Addison plan.’”
Ben laughed. “Don’t bring that up now.”
“I’m serious,” Lisa said. “You know I was the one who thought up that entire—”
“I know,” Ben interrupted. “You came up with the plan. You were the one who said to go to the marshals. You were the one who said it was my only hope. You were the one who said we should replace the executives. You were the one who said to isolate the criminal records….”
“I was the one who said you should be proactive.”
“Absolutely,” Ben agreed. “You were the aggressive one. You had the idea. I was cocky about
Grinnell
, and you’re the one who wound up saving my ass.”
“Yet we had to share the credit,” Lisa said.
“Are you going to bring this up every time we get together?” Ben asked.
“Pretty much.”
“I never said I designed the plan,” Ben pleaded. “All I said was that I wrote it up for DeRosa.”
“Based on my idea.”
“Based on your idea,” Ben repeated. “I told them that. What else do you want me to say?”
“I want you to say: Lisa deserves all the credit—I’m just her meek and lowly servant.”
“Y’know, there are worse things than sharing the spotlight. I mean, it’s not like you’ve been completely ignored.”
“I have too been ignored.”
“How many job offers did you receive this week? A dozen?”
“Fourteen, actually. And
The New York Times
is doing a profile that runs next Sunday. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel slighted. The way I see it, you shouldn’t have opened your mouth in the first place.”
Ben grabbed a nearby pillow and whipped it at Lisa’s head. “Don’t give me that! Eric was the one who screwed up—he was the one who gave both of us credit for designing it. And when the rest of the press picked up on it—”
“You couldn’t deny it.”
“I tried to deny it,” Ben laughed. “But at that point it was too late. The King of the Court was born.”
“Don’t say those words in front of me,” Lisa warned.
“If it makes you feel better, you can call me Sovereign.”
“I should call you Court Jester.”
“Fine, call me Jester. Whatever makes you happy,” Ben said. “But if you have to know the truth, I really am sorry.
And
grateful.”
“I know you are. I just want you to learn your lesson.” Pleased to see Ben smiling, Lisa said, “Y’know, I like you much better when you’re happy.”
“Me, too,” Ben said. “The way I see it, though, there are two types of people in this world…”
“Don’t start,” Lisa begged.
“I’m serious. There are two types of people in this world: winners and losers.”
“Let me guess which one you are.”
“In this situation, I’m both,” Ben explained. “That’s the only way to look at it.”
Lisa paused for a moment. “That’s fair. I’ll agree with that.”
“Thank you,” Ben said.
Lisa jumped from her seat and walked toward the couch. “Now that we’ve heard your wonderful analysis, can we get out of here? You said we’d have fun tonight.”
“I don’t want to have fun,” Ben said with a smile. “I’d rather stay in.”
“So you want to have a different kind of fun?” she asked, sitting down next to him.
“No,” Ben said, pulling away. “I just want to sit here and mope. Trust me, it’ll be tons of fun.”
“Moping is not an option. Get it out of your mind.”
“Is sulking an option? Because I can just as easily sulk if I can’t mope.”
“You’re not doing either.” Slowly, Lisa moved closer to Ben on the couch.
“Then what are we going to do? Pout? Brood? Fret?”
“Let me put it to you this way,” Lisa said. “In my mind, there are two types of people in this world: those who will sleep with me, and those who won’t.”
“Relax. I’m not in the mood.”
“Don’t give me that. You said when everything calmed down—”
“It hasn’t calmed down yet,” Ben said. “Besides, who says I’d even want to sleep with you?”
“Oh, that’s funny,” Lisa said. “But that game doesn’t work anymore. I saw you crying when Rick was slapping me around. You were worried about me.”
“Those tears had nothing to do with you. They were tears of anger. They were angry, hateful tears.”
“Sure they were,” Lisa said, inching closer to Ben.
“I’m serious,” Ben said. “Anyway, I can’t do it now. I have a lot on my mind. You saw me before—I’m depressed.”
“You’re not depressed.”
“I am depressed. And it’s going to take me a long time to get over it.”
“How long?” Lisa asked.
“A very long time. A long, long time.”
“So when are we going to fool around?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe never.”
“Ben—” Lisa warned.
“Fine. You talked me into it. But I want you to know I’m not going to like it.”
“You’ll like it.”
“Fine. I’ll like it. But the moment we’re done, this relationship is over. I’ve had enough of this nonsense.”
“Whatever you say,” Lisa agreed. She kissed Ben’s neck. “You’re in control.”
