Brad Meltzer - The Tenth Justice

“Nathan’s at work, but Eric might be.” Ben hung up and searched his pockets for more change. He was a nickel short. Undeterred, he anxiously entered his calling card number into the pay phone. As his fingers danced across the buttons, he realized he’d misdialed the number. “Damn,” he said, hanging up. He picked up the receiver and frantically reentered his calling card number. “C’mon, c’mon,” he said as he waited for the tone. He heard it and entered his home number, praying Eric had finished his editing and left the house.

“Hello,” Eric said.

“Eric, it’s me. Get out of the house. Rick and that guy in the navy coat-”

“Have you spoken to Lisa?” Eric interrupted.

“Don’t worry about Lisa,” Ben said. “You have to-”

“Shut up a second,” Eric insisted. “Rick called here looking for you. He said it was an emergency. And he wanted me to tell you that he was going over to Lisa’s.”

Ben’s heart sank. “How long ago did he call?”

“About a half hour ago. Do you need any-”

Ben hung up the phone, reentered his calling card, and dialed Lisa’s number. “Shit, shit, shit,” he said as the phone rang five times without an answer.

Finally, Lisa picked up. “Hello.”

“Get out of your apartment,” Ben said. “Rick’s on his way over.”

“Or maybe I’m already here,” Rick said. “How are you doing, Ben? Long time, no see.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Why so sad?” Rick asked. “It’s just me.”

“If you hurt her, I swear I’ll-”

“Spare me the threats,” Rick demanded, his voice growing suddenly serious. “I now have both Lisa and Nathan-”

“Nathan?”

“Shut up and listen for once,” Rick said. “I have both of them, and I’m sick and tired of playing games. Now tell me where you are.”

Ben was silent.

“This is no time to be stupid,” Rick said. “You already lost one friend this weekend. Do you want to go for two?” Getting no response, he added, “How about three?”

“I’m at Boosin’s Bar,” Ben finally said. “It’s on New Hampshire.”

“I know where it is,” Rick said. “I expect you to be standing outside in ten minutes. And if you happen to feel the urge to call the authorities, your parents, Eric, or anyone else, I will be extremely upset with you. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Ben said, fighting his rage.

“Good. Now, one last question,” Rick said. “What’s the outcome of American Steel?”

Again, Ben was silent.

“I asked a question,” Rick said.

Still, silence.

“This is just about money,” Rick warned. “Don’t turn it into anything that requires violence.”

“American Steel wins,” Ben snapped. “Are you happy? Now you can go make your millions.”

“I’m extremely happy-that’s exactly the same answer Lisa gave us,” Rick said. “We’ll see you outside in ten minutes.”

Hearing Rick hang up, Ben exploded. He grabbed the receiver and slammed it against the pay phone. The few patrons who were in the bar looked up when they heard the crashing noise. Again, Ben banged the receiver against the metal base of the phone. And again. And again.

Suddenly, someone grabbed him from behind. “What the hell is wrong with you?” the bartender asked, pulling the receiver from Ben’s hand.

“Get off me!” Ben screamed, struggling against the bartender.

The bartender dragged him to the front door and pushed him outside. “If you’re going to be a psycho, go someplace else.”

Waiting outside of Boosin’s, Ben teemed with anger. With his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, he despondently kicked at a small pile of snow next to the building. Within ten minutes, a red Jeep pulled up to the curb. The only person in it was Claremont. “Wait right there,” Claremont said as he got out of the Jeep and approached Ben. Now that Claremont was no longer wearing his brown fedora, Ben studied his attacker’s features. With a round face that was highlighted by a worn, floury complexion, Claremont looked much older than Ben had expected.

“Take off your jacket,” Claremont said, pointing with thick, stubby fingers.

When Ben obliged, Claremont patted him down. “Still worried about microphones?” Ben asked.

“I’m told you have a habit of wearing them.” After establishing that Ben was clean, Claremont opened the door for Ben. “All aboard,” he said.

Thirty-five minutes later, the Jeep pulled into the back parking lot of the Palm Hotel, in Bethesda. “Follow me,” Claremont said as he walked toward the back entrance of the building. “And if you say one word to anyone…”

“I get the picture,” Ben said.

They took the elevator to the twenty-fourth floor and walked down the hallway to room 2427. Claremont slid his coded card into the electronic lock, pushed open the door, and entered the lavishly decorated suite. The main room was empty.

“Where is everyone?” Ben asked.

“Shut up and follow,” Claremont said. He led the way through the bedroom and opened the door that connected the suite to the one next door. They walked through the second suite and reached a door that connected that suite to a third. Finally, they entered the largest of the three suites, where Rick, Lisa, and Nathan were waiting.

When Ben and Claremont entered the room, Rick got up from his seat on the sofa. “Well, well, the gang’s all here,” he said. “Lisa, Nathan, I believe you know Ben. Ben, this is Lisa and Nathan.”

Ben was surprised to see Nathan and Lisa sitting calmly at the large glass dining-room table. Looking through the glass tabletop, he noticed that they were both handcuffed to their chairs. A swollen black eye colored the left side of Nathan’s face.

“Are you okay?” Ben asked.

“Fuck off,” Nathan said, turning away.

“Children,” Rick scolded. “No fighting.”

“You didn’t have to hit him,” Ben said.

“Yes, we did,” Rick said glibly. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have come with us.”

Looking at Lisa, Ben asked, “They didn’t hit you, did they?”

“Are you kidding?” Rick interjected, showing off the scratch marks on the side of his neck. “She did more damage than you.” When he approached the small mahogany desk in the corner of the room, Rick reached into his briefcase, pulled out two sets of handcuffs, and threw them to Claremont.

Claremont pushed Ben toward the large wooden chair next to Nathan. “Take a seat.”

“Let them go first,” Ben demanded.

“And let them run to the police?” Rick laughed. “Take a seat, Ben. You’re in no position to argue.”

When Ben sat down, Claremont used both sets of handcuffs to fasten Ben’s arms to the chair.

“And if you’re thinking about screaming,” Rick said, “you can save your lungs the wear and tear. We have most of this floor, and the manager promised us complete privacy. You can buy just about anything these days.”

“I don’t know why you’re so smug,” Ben said. “Eric’s still out there. When we don’t come home tonight, he’ll head straight to the police.”

“No, he won’t,” Rick said coldly.

Lisa looked at Ben. “Nathan called Eric and told him that he was working late tonight. And then I called him and told him that we were both okay-that the phone call from Rick was just a fake threat.” Seeing the bewildered look on Ben’s face, she added, “Rick said he would kill you if we didn’t make the calls.”

Surprised by the gravity of Rick’s threat, Ben looked up at his captor.

“Satisfied?” Rick asked.

“Are you going to stop the decision?” Fisk asked, sitting impatiently in Lungen’s office.

“I don’t see how,” Lungen said. “We have no more proof than we did on Friday. Ben and Lisa haven’t been in all weekend.”