Brad Meltzer - The Tenth Justice

“Can I help you?” a cashier wearing a turtleneck asked.

“Yes, I received an overdue payment notice for a P.O. box. Not only did I pay for my box in advance, but the number on the bill wasn’t my box.”

“Oh, I’m sure we just made a mistake,” the cashier said. “Let me look up your name.”

“My name is Be-” Catching himself, Ben remembered the fake name he’d given to open the box. “My name is Alvy Singer.”

“Singer, Singer…” the cashier said, looking through his files. “Here it is.” He pulled out the file and continued, “You opened box twelve twenty-seven on October twenty-eighth, and you paid for that in advance. You then opened box thirteen twenty-seven on October twenty-ninth, requesting that you be billed for it.” Reading the file, the cashier added, “It says here you also paid an extra twenty-five-dollar lock fee so that both boxes could be opened with the same key.”

“Of course, how stupid of me,” Ben said, wiping away the cold sweat that had suddenly formed on his forehead.

“Would you like to pay your balance today?”

“Sure. That’s fine,” Ben said. He pulled out his wallet and paid the bill.

When he reached the room of P.O. boxes, Ben was in a full-fledged panic. Looking around, he was relieved no one was watching him. He pulled the key from his pocket and opened his box, 1227. Empty. Directly under his was box 1327. Inserting his key, he opened the box. Inside was a single manila envelope. Taking out the envelope, he locked the box and walked to a small counter.

Inside the envelope was a single typed sheet of paper. “Dear Ben,” he read. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch, but, as you’ve probably guessed, I’ve been quite busy. Needless to say, all went extremely well. I realize you’re frustrated with what’s happened, but please stop trying to find me. You’re wasting your time. Tearing apart my flowers was useless, your bribery attempt at my old apartment was pathetic, and as far as your telephone bill idea-do you really believe I would make important calls on a line so easily traceable? Come on, now. Since you still haven’t gone to the authorities, I assume you understand the consequences to your own career should you reveal your story.

“At this point in time, I propose a truce. If you are interested, please meet me at Two Quail on Saturday at eight P.M. The reservation has been made under your name. If you do need to contact me, please feel free to use our P.O. box, number 1327. Yours, Rick.”

Ben stuffed the letter back into the envelope, left the store, and walked briskly back to the Court. How the hell does he know everything? he asked himself. Bounding up the Court’s steps, Ben waved his I.D. card at the guard and sidestepped the metal detector. Within a minute, he was charging through the reception area on the way to his office. Slamming the door behind him, he threw the envelope on Lisa’s desk. “You won’t believe it,” he said.

“Where did you get this?” Lisa asked as she read the letter.

“He opened a P.O. box right under mine-under my fake name,” Ben said, his voice shaking.

“How did he know you had a P.O. box?” Holding up her hand, Lisa stopped Ben from answering. “Let me finish reading this first.” Eventually looking up, she asked, “Okay, now, how did he know you had a P.O. box?”

“How did he know my fake name? How did he know what we did with the flowers? How did he know I called the phone company? How did he know we broke into his old apartment building? He knows my parents’ address, for Chrissakes! He billed me for the P.O. box at my parents’ house!”

“Calm down a second,” Lisa said, putting her reading glasses on the desk. “Let’s think about this.”

“If he goes near my family, I swear I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Relax, I’m sure he did that just to scare you.”

“Well, it’s working,” Ben said, taking off his suit jacket. “He’s obviously been following me for the last month of my life. He knows everything I do, everywhere I go. He knows where my family lives…”

“You have to calm down. Let me think for a minute.”

Pacing up and down the office, Ben remained silent.

“I can understand that he knew we broke into the apartment building, but I don’t understand how he knew about the phone bill. Both times you called the phone company, you called from his office, didn’t you?” When Ben nodded, she added, “I doubt he’s tapped the phone in here. I mean, this’s the Supreme Court.”

“There’s no way he could tap this phone-not with the security system we have here,” Ben agreed. “But how did he know what we did with the flowers? We’re the only ones that knew about that.”

Still focused on the phone bills, Lisa said, “Most likely, he didn’t change his address on purpose. Then he just waited to see what we did. The phone company probably told him you ordered a copy of the bill.” After pausing to reflect, she continued, “I just can’t believe he knew we’d do that.”

“This guy is no dummy,” Ben said, unable to stand still.

“Do you really think he has someone following you?”

“How should I know? How else would he know my fake name for the P.O. box?”

“Are you going to meet with him?”

“Of course,” Ben said. “This guy is all mine. I’m gonna nail his ass to the wall.”

“You sound like a bad TV movie,” Lisa said. “I think you should come up with a serious plan first.”

“Definitely,” Ben agreed. Sitting at his desk, he pulled out a sheet of paper. “I’d like to get everyone together for a little brainstorming session. Can we do it at your place?”

“Why my place?”

“Because I think he might have my house bugged.”

“Listen, you have to calm down,” Lisa said. “This isn’t The Firm.”

“This guy has the resources to reach Charles Maxwell, he pulls off one of the greatest insider information scams of the decade, and you’re telling me he doesn’t have the resources to bug my crappy house with its nonexistent alarm system?”

“Fine,” Lisa said. “We’ll meet at my apartment.” Rising from her seat, she walked over to Ben and leaned on his desk. “Meanwhile, want to hear some fresh gossip?”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Okay. Fine. Then I won’t tell you that Justice Blake is stepping down.”

“That’s nothing new,” Ben said. “People have been saying that for years.”

“But now it’s official,” Lisa said. “He gave his notice today to Osterman.”

“Are you serious?” Ben asked as his raised eyebrows creased his forehead.

“Scout’s honor.”

“Is this confirmed, or is it just what you heard?”

“Let’s put it this way-when you were at lunch, Hollis came down here and told me Blake just gave notice of his resignation. He’s calling the president this afternoon and the press will be notified within the next week or two. You think that source is trustworthy enough for you?”

“If Hollis said it, it’s the gospel.”

“The thing is, I don’t think most of the justices have told their clerks, so keep it a secret. Hollis said it was just for our information.”

“What else did he say?” Ben asked.

“He said that Grinnell won’t be decided until the end of the week. Justice Veidt still hasn’t responded, and all the conservatives have pushed it back so they can work on getting him aboard.”

“Excellent gossip,” Ben admitted. “Sounds like Hollis was running at the mouth today.”

“You know how he is,” Lisa said. “Sometimes he won’t say a word, and other times he won’t shut up. Today was just a good day.”

“So I guess that means we won’t be working on Grinnell this week.”