Brad Meltzer - The Tenth Justice

“Bad idea,” Nathan said. “Definitely a bad idea. You hardly even know her. What makes you think she won’t turn you in?”

“She wouldn’t,” Ben said. “Lisa’s a great friend. Besides, she has a right to know. She’s spoken to Rick. For her safety alone, I have to tell her.”

“She’s in no danger. You don’t have to say a thing.”

“I do,” Ben said. “It’s the right thing to do. If the situation were reversed, I’d want her to tell me. Besides, with all those flowers Rick sent to the Court, it’s clear that he isn’t just going away. I think he’s trying to tell me that he knows how to reach me-and if that’s the case, I have to warn Lisa.”

“Just be careful,” Nathan said. “I would hate to see it backfire on…Damn!” Nathan missed a clove of the garlic he was chopping and sliced into his finger. “Son of a bitch!” he yelled.

“Are you okay?” Ben asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Nathan said. He ran his bleeding finger under the faucet. “It’s just a tiny cut.”

“Those’re the ones that hurt the most.”

Just then, Ober and Eric returned. “Home, crap home,” Ober announced as he walked through the door. Heading straight for the kitchen, he looked at Nathan. “Now what was all that secrecy about today? What the hell happened?”

Holding his finger and looking at Ben, Nathan was silent.

“I got into a bit of trouble,” Ben said, trying to be as casual as possible.

“It better be bad,” Ober said. “Writing fake death threats to a senator could get me thrown in jail.”

“You wrote a death threat to a senator?” Eric asked, stealing a slice of red pepper from the cutting board.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Ben said, “but you have to swear you won’t say a word.” He quickly explained everything that had happened, including his and Nathan’s encounter at Rick’s old building.

“You’re a dead man,” Ober said. “They’re probably plotting your death right now.”

“I told you not to tell him,” Nathan said to Ben.

“Eric, do you think you can find out anything about this building from people at work?” Ben asked.

“I’ll try,” Eric said, not meeting Ben’s eyes.

“What?” Ben asked, noticing Eric’s uneasiness.

“This is no joke,” Eric said, sitting at the kitchen table. “This guy Rick, whoever he is, isn’t some petty scam artist. You can’t just walk up to Charles Maxwell and say, ‘I’ve got a secret.’ Rick’s got to be connected.”

“I’m sure he is,” Ben said. “When we went to his building today, the manager wouldn’t say a single word about him.”

Eric paused for a minute, then said, “I know you may think this a crazy option, but if you want, you can go to the press with this.”

“No way,” Ben said. “If the Court learns I violated the ethics code, they have to fire me, and my career is ruined. And on top of that, I’d look like a fool in front of millions of people.”

“You did get suckered pretty badly,” Ober said as he reached for his own piece of red pepper.

“Thanks,” Ben said. “Thanks for your support.” He looked at Eric. “At this point, I still want to see what we can find out ourselves. My career is in enough jeopardy, and the last thing I want to do is publicize that fact.”

“Whatever you want,” Eric said. “It’s your life.”

When Ben returned to work the next day, he immediately searched for the card from the floral bouquet. Ripping up the tiny note, Ben thought about what to do with the basket. He didn’t want to keep it around, but was afraid that if he threw it away, Lisa would be even more curious. He eventually put the bouquet on top of one of the file cabinets. That way, he could decorate the office and say the flowers were from his mother.

Even without the flowers, Ben’s desk was still covered with paper. Amid the piles of cert petitions were drafts of forthcoming decisions. Each set of documents was enclosed in a brown folder marked “Confidential-Justice Hollis’s Chambers Only.” Although there was nothing to prevent anyone from opening a folder, Hollis was convinced that the moral consequences would deter potential peekers. Each folder was also labeled with a yellow Post-it, which Ben and Lisa used to identify the status of a document. Not a single opinion went to Hollis until both were satisfied with its content. Quickly scanning the Post-its, Ben was surprised to see one marked “First Draft-Kramer decision.”

Lisa entered the office. “Morning, sick boy. How’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” Holding the Kramer folder in his hand, he said, “You didn’t have to do this. I was assigned the first draft.”

“I know, but you were sick, and I had some free time on my hands, so I figured-”

“You didn’t have to write a full extra opinion, though. You have enough to do.”

“Forget about it,” Lisa said. “I wanted to help you. I did it. It’s done. Be grateful.”

Waiting until Lisa sat at her desk, Ben smiled. “Thank you.”

At noon, Lisa and Ben walked down to Union Station for lunch. After years of languishing in ruin, the station was once again a tourist haven. Under the linked barrel-vaulted ceilings, between the statues and columns and sculptures and archways, more than a hundred upscale shops had popped up, along with a multiplex movie theater and, of course, a food court. Every time he walked through, it made Ben sick.

Lisa and Ben skirted the massive groups of tourists and grabbed a table in the corner of the food court. “Are you okay?” Lisa asked, watching Ben pick at his french fries.

“I’m fine. There’s just something I have to tell you.”

“Wait a minute. If you’re about to tell me you’re in love with me, I may vomit.”

“It’s not that,” Ben said. “You wish it was that.” Wiping his hands with a napkin, he asked, “Remember Rick? Hollis’s old clerk?” Lisa nodded. “About three weeks ago I casually told Rick the outcome of the CMI case. A few days later, you know what happened-Maxwell risked all his money on a legal victory. When I tried to find Rick, he’d disappeared.” Lisa’s mouth dropped open. “Rick Fagen was never a clerk for the Supreme Court. The number he gave me is disconnected; he’s moved out of his apartment building; he’s gone.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Lisa said, her sandwich still in her hand. “Why the hell did you tell him the decision?”

“We were just bullshitting about it one day,” Ben said defensively. “He said he was curious about it and I told him. Every time we needed advice he helped us. I couldn’t say no.”

“But you’re never supposed to let out a decision,” Lisa said, raising her voice.

“Listen, I screwed up. I know it,” Ben said. “But he totally suckered me in. Believe me, you would’ve done the same thing. It was a perfect setup.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“Lisa, calm down. I told you this because I trust you. You won’t say anything, will you?”

Lisa put down her sandwich and looked at her co-clerk. “This is serious stuff, Ben. We can’t just sit on this.”

“I know. But until I can prove it was Rick, I want to keep this low profile. Nathan is having the State Department run a search on him, and Eric is asking his newspaper contacts for info about the apartment building where Rick lived.”

“We should tell Hollis.”

“I’m not telling Hollis,” Ben insisted. He leaned toward Lisa. “Believe me, I was up all night about this. If I go to Hollis, I’m fired. Even if I meant no harm, I violated the ethics code. If I’m fired, my whole life is over.”

After a long pause, Lisa asked, “Why did you tell me this?”