Brad Meltzer - The Tenth Justice

“I knew we should’ve staked out his house,” Fisk said, pointing at Lungen. “Now we have no idea where he is.”

“For all we know, he’s out shopping.”

“I still say we pull the plug on the decision. Tell the justices we don’t want it announced until we find Ben.”

“Will you listen to what you’re saying,” Lungen demanded. “You want me to hold up the Supreme Court of the United States because one of their clerks didn’t work this weekend? Do you know how fast we’ll be standing on the unemployment line?”

“What if he doesn’t show up tomorrow?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lungen said. “Until we have all the facts-and I mean every last detail-we cannot bring this Court to a screeching halt. Believe me, when we have the information, Ben Addison’s ass is mine. But until that point, we just sit and wait.”

“And listen,” Fisk said, turning up the speaker on Lungen’s desk.

Ben’s arms were growing stiff from being restrained. “You made a mistake taking only three of us.”

“Oh, we did?” Rick sat on the plush sofa and flipped through the paperwork laid out on the coffee table.

“I mean it,” Ben said. “Eric won’t believe those stories. I bet he’s talking to the police right now.”

“That’s a pretty crappy theory,” Rick said, his eyes still focused on his paperwork.

“And why’s that?”

“You expect Eric to run to the police?” Rick asked, looking up at his captives. “Is this the same Eric who told you to avoid the authorities at all cost? The same Eric who said you could catch me all by yourself? This is the person who’s going to blow this wide open? Even Ober was more resourceful.” Ben’s jaw tightened. “Hit a raw nerve, huh?”

“If it wasn’t for you, he’d still be alive,” Ben said. “I’ll kill you for that.”

“Sure you will. And if you believe that, I can see why you think Eric’s coming to your rescue.” Making himself comfortable on the sofa, Rick added, “I hate to break it to you, but you’re on your own this time.”

Sitting at his desk in the political bureau, Eric was annoyed. For the past three hours, he had tried to locate his roommates. Nathan wasn’t at work, Ben wasn’t at the Court, and Lisa wasn’t at home. Those phone calls had to be a setup, Eric thought as the crumbs of his late lunch fell into his computer keyboard. Wiping his hands on his jeans, he flipped through his Rolodex. No more playing around, Eric thought as he dialed the number of the Marshals Office at the Supreme Court. I need real help.

“U.S. Marshals Office,” a man answered. “This is Carl Lungen.”

“Mr. Lungen, this is Eric Stroman-Ben Addison’s roommate.”

“How’d you get my private line?” Lungen asked, sounding annoyed.

“I stole it from Ben’s Rolodex-you never know when you’re going to need a marshal,” Eric explained. “I’m only calling because it’s an emergency. I think Ben’s in trouble.”

“I’m listening.”

“Well, without getting into the whole story, Ben was being blackmailed by this guy named Rick. A few hours ago, I got a call from Ben telling me to get out of my house because Rick was after us. A half hour after that, Lisa called and told me everything was okay. Maybe I’m just being neurotic, but I think something happened to them.”

“Eric, I’m very glad you called,” Lungen said. “Now start from the beginning and tell me the whole story.”

At ten o’clock that evening, Rick and Claremont sat in the center suite, picking at the remains of their room-service dinner. “Only twelve more hours,” Rick said, nibbling on a french fry. “We’re almost there.”

“You promise we’ll cash in the options by noon?” Claremont asked.

“How many times do you need to hear it?” Rick asked. “It’ll all be done by noon.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” Claremont said. “If you were in my position, you’d be just as concerned. It’ll only take a few hours before the SEC realizes that an American Steel executive cashed in all of his stock and risked it all on a long-shot bet. This deal is going to raise one hell of a lot of eyebrows over there.”

“We’ll be long gone by the time they put it together,” Rick said. “Don’t get crazy over it.”

“I’ll just be happy when it’s over,” Claremont said.

“You’ll be more than happy,” Rick said. “You’ll be rich. Those options will be worth millions.”

“What if Ben’s lying and Steel actually loses?”

“Don’t worry,” Rick said. “After what happened with Grinnell, I’m not putting a dollar down unless I know he’s telling the truth.”

“Nathan, will you stop it already?” Ben begged. “Talk to me.”

“Leave him alone,” Lisa said. “He’ll talk when he’s ready.”

“Silence doesn’t help anyone at this point,” Ben said. “Get over it.”

“Get over it?” Nathan asked, looking up and facing Ben. “Ober is dead. That’s not something I’ll just get over. Not today. Not tomorrow. Never.”

“Enough with the fighting,” Lisa interrupted, pulling on her restraints. Leaning to her left, she peered over the armrest and saw that her handcuffs were attached to the wooden supports that connected the front and back legs of the antique chair. “I say we focus on getting out of here.”

“Let me guess,” Nathan said. “You have a bobby pin in your hair and you’re a master lockpick?”

“I wish,” Lisa said, tipping her chair forward until she could stand. Hunched over, she shuffled toward Ben. She then lowered her chair, sitting in front of him. “See those supports?” she asked. “I bet if you kick them hard enough, they’ll break in half.”

Ben looked at the width of the supports. “There’s no way,” he said. “It’ll never-”

“Don’t give me that,” Lisa demanded. “Try. Kick the shit out of it. Just don’t kick my hand.”

Ben jerked his chair into position and prepared to kick the support. “Hold on a second,” Lisa said, waving her handcuffed hand. “Give me your other foot.”

“Why?”

“Because if you don’t, the moment you kick this chair, you’ll go flying backward.”

Nodding, Ben let Lisa get a good handhold on his left ankle. With his right leg primed for impact, he counted, “One, two, three,” and slammed his foot against the support.

“Again,” Lisa said as Ben hit the support. “Keep going.” Wildly kicking over a dozen times, Ben felt the wooden support start to splinter. “You’re almost there,” Lisa said. After one more blow, the support snapped, allowing Lisa to slide the handcuff off the chair. With one arm still tied down, she turned her chair around. “Do the other one.”

“Quietly,” Nathan warned, carefully watching the door that connected to the other suite.

When Ben had kicked through the other support, Lisa was free. With the handcuffs still dangling from her wrists, she walked to Ben’s chair and prepared to start kicking.

“Screw the chair,” Ben said. “Run and get help.”

“No way,” Lisa said.

“Don’t argue, just go,” Ben said as the handcuffs pulled against his wrists. “There’s no way we’ll all get free without them hearing.”

“They didn’t hear you, did they?” Lisa asked. “Besides, if I leave and they find out I’m gone, who knows what they’ll do to you?”

“We’ll be fine,” Ben said. “Go get help.”

“I’m not going,” Lisa said. She started kicking at Ben’s supports. “I don’t need your death on my head.”

“They won’t kill us,” Ben said.

Lisa stopped to look Ben in the eye. “Are you kidding me? You think they’d beat us, kidnap us, and chain us up, but not kill us?”