Mark Gimenez - Accused

"Boy, we took a big hit with Ike," the senator said. "Seventy-five percent of all homes flooded, three billion in damages here on the Island, twenty-nine billion total… but like we say, 'It's an ill wind that blows no good.' "

"What was the good of Hurricane Ike?"

"Destroyed all the public housing on the Island. Our poor folks are gone."

"You're not going to rebuild the public housing?"

"If you build it, they will come… back. If you don't, they won't."

"Where will they live?"

"Somewhere else. Wherever they're living now. Austin, maybe. Bunch of goddamned bleeding heart liberals, I'd like to ship every poor person in Texas to Austin, see how much they care then. See, Scott, the public housing crowd, they were holding the Island back-welfare, drugs, crime, test scores dragging down our school system-just like South Dallas is holding Dallas back. Imagine if one day Dallas woke up and South Dallas was gone. Well, that's what Ike did for us, washed 'em all away. All our problems are gone with the wind… and water. Now we can transform the Island into another Hamptons like we always wanted. A nice place for rich white folks."

"Maybe you could put up a gate on this side of the causeway, make the entire Island a gated community."

The senator frowned. "You know, that's not a bad idea."

"I was joking."

"Oh. Still…"

The senator was rich and white. His hair was gray and perfect. He was in his late fifties and wore slacks and a short-sleeve island shirt. Scott had seen him numerous times on the Sunday morning political talk shows. Senator George Armstrong was handsome, articulate, and a leading voice of the Republican Party. He ordered a gin-and-tonic, folded his hands on the table, and said, "You know, Scott, when Ken told me you were representing your ex-wife who's charged with murdering the man she ran off with, I said exactly the same thing I said when I first heard that McCain picked Palin for his

"What's that?"

" ' What the hell was he thinking? ' " The senator chuckled. "Men just don't think straight when it comes to women, do we?"

"She's innocent."

"No doubt. But Palin cost McCain the White House. You want your wife to cost you the federal bench? You lose this case in my hometown, Scott, I won't be able to back you even if Sam Buford does think you're the best thing to come along in the law since Clarence Darrow. Called me up himself, Buford did, said I'd be dumber than a stump if I didn't appoint you to his bench when he died."

The waiter dropped off his drink. The senator drank half.

"He's my hero," Scott said.

"You're a hero to a lot of people, too."

"SMU fans."

"Not football, Scott. That murder case, McCall's son."

"You know about that?"

The senator laughed. "You went on national TV and accused the senior U.S. senator from Texas of obstructing justice… Yeah, I know about that."

"Oh. Look, I…"

"Impressed the hell out of me."

"It did?"

"And a lot of other conservatives, all across the country."

"Conservatives?"

"Sure. We hate the federal government. You stood up for an American citizen against the United States government. Shit, Scott, they should make a movie about that case. And you should make a fine federal judge."

Scott couldn't fight a smile. He saw himself entering a courtroom as Judge A. Scott Fenney. He could have a good life and still be able to provide for his daughters.

"Why, thank you, Senator."

The senator downed his drink then held the empty glass in the air until he caught the waiter's attention.

"So, Scott, as long as you win this case and pass the FBI's criminal background check, you're number two on the list."

Scott felt the smile drop off his face. "Number two? "

"Behind Shelby Morgan."

"The judge on my ex-wife's murder case?"

The senator nodded.

"Does she know I'm number two?"

"Yep."

"Well, that should make for a fun trial."

The senator smiled. "Like being in bed with a feral hog… except she's better looking."

Scott now saw himself entering the Ford Fenney law firm.

"Sorry, Scott, but I owe her." The waiter delivered another cocktail. "That's politics."

"A federal judgeship isn't about politics, Senator."

"Since when? Now don't go naive on me, Scott. You and I both know, everything is politics. The Supreme Court decided-actually, six lawyers decided-that there's a constitutional right to an abortion-where's that in the Constitution? They made it up, to suit their politics. Then five lawyers on the Court said 'public use' in the Fifth Amendment actually means 'public benefit'-like James Madison didn't know the difference between 'use' and 'benefit'-and the government can condemn your home for a fucking football stadium if it'll generate more taxes. That's not law, Scott, that's politics."

The senator shook his head.

"Constitutional law is the greatest hoax ever perpetrated on the American people. But both parties love it because a Supreme Court decision trumps democracy. You don't have to convince a majority of three hundred million people that you're right, just five lawyers. Five fucking lawyers and you win your political victory."

He sipped his drink and shook his head again.

"One thing I've learned in Washington, Scott-everything is politics. Why do Democrats want to grant citizenship to twelve million illegal Mexican immigrants? Because they care about those poor people? No. Because they want twelve million more Democratic voters. Politics. Why do Democrats want a government-run health care system? Because their voters are gonna get free health care, our voters are gonna pay for it. Politics. How much we pay for corn, milk, beef, steel… politics. How many miles to the gallon our cars get… politics. How much pollution we breathe… politics. Who sits on the federal bench… also politics."

Scott felt like the moderator on Meet the Press.

"The deal works like this, Scott: Texas senators pick our federal judges, New York senators pick theirs. Someone tries to go around us, we 'blue-slip' the nominee, he never gets a committee vote much less a floor vote."

"What's a blue-slip?"

"Veto, same as being black-balled at a country club. Means the home-state senators can block any judicial nominee for their state. Without blue-slips, the Senate would descend into chaos. Blue-slips keep things orderly."

"If not democratic."

"Democracy happens every six years in the Senate, Scott. Rest of the time, politics rules. Which is good for you."

"Why?"

"Because I voted for Roberts' assault weapons bill."

Ron Roberts was the senior U.S. senator from Texas.

"He wants to ensure that every American citizen has the unfettered opportunity to buy an assault weapon at a gun show-how stupid is that? He's pro-guns and pro-life and doesn't see the irony. But now he owes me, said I can pick our next federal judge. You're my first choice, but I owe Shelby."

He didn't specify the debt.

"Politics." The senator finished off his drink. "We'll hold off on the background checks until Buford dies. That would look unseemly, I think."

The senator ordered another drink.

"I don't like it anymore than you, Scott, having to put Shelby up for federal judge." He exhaled heavily. "I guess we can both hope she did something stupid when she was young and fails her criminal background check."

Scott arrived back at the beach house just as Bobby was leaving in the Prius.

"How'd it go with the senator?" Bobby asked through his open window.

"I'm number two for the job… behind Judge Morgan."

"You're shitting me? Can this case get any weirder?"

"I have a feeling it can. Another ice cream craving?"