The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [115]
“That’s very funny.”
“Then, finally, they asked me whether I knew about the information that was leaked to Eric or whether I knew anything about Eric’s story—to be honest, I’m not exactly sure what they asked. Whatever it was, I tried to zone out of it. Then, when I heard silence, I just answered no. After the third question, when the machine didn’t go crazy, I turned toward the marshals. At that point, I could actually feel the rage seething from Fisk’s little pea-brained head. I asked them if I checked out okay, and Lungen said I was all finished. He thanked me for my time and apologized for the inconvenience.”
“Do you think they knew you were lying?”
“Hold on a second,” Ben said opening the door to their office. “Maybe you can say that a little louder. I don’t think everyone in Maryland was able to hear you.”
“You know what I mean.”
Ben let the door close. “Let’s put it this way: I don’t think for a second that they think I’m completely innocent. But until they find some proof, they really can’t do anything.” Walking to his desk, Ben said, “By the way, who were you talking to when I walked in?”
“Huh?” Lisa asked.
“When I came in, you were on the phone with someone. You said, ‘He just walked in,’ and then you hung up the phone. Who were you talking to?”
“Oh, that was Nancy calling from Hollis’s office. Hollis sent his final version of Grinnell and he wants both of us to do one more read on it. He needs our final copy by Friday. He wants to submit it to the Clerk’s Office by the end of the week so they can announce it this Monday.”
“And that’s all she said?”
“That was it.” Lisa noticed the skeptical expression on Ben’s face. “Don’t give me that bullshit.”
“What bullshit?”
“I know what you’re thinking,” Lisa said, rising from the sofa. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I wasn’t speaking to Rick.”
“Who said you were speaking to Rick?”
“Believe me, I know your suspicious look. I don’t care how well you did with the marshals downstairs, I can always tell when you’re lying.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry. I’m not suspicious. If you say it was Nancy, it was Nancy.”
“Well, it was Nancy.”
“Then I believe you,” Ben said.
“It really was!”
“I said I believe you.”
“Ben, I—”
“Listen, if I really thought you were lying, I’d pretend to go to the bathroom and then I’d go up to Nancy to ask her if she called you. I trust you, Lisa. If you say it was her, it was her.”
By late Friday afternoon, Ben had been staring at his computer screen for three consecutive hours. “I can’t believe he hasn’t made a move yet,” he said, rubbing his now bloodshot eyes. “The only way to make money is to buy the property.”
For the eighth time since Wednesday, Lisa reread the final draft of Grinnell. “Maybe Rick never got the Grinnell decision. Maybe he got a different decision.”
“No way,” Ben said. “He definitely got Grinnell. I can feel it.”
“Oh, you can?” Lisa asked, her eyes still glued to the page. “And assuming your supernatural powers are correct, what makes you so sure that Rick’s seller will even report the sale? He may just hand over the deed and run.”
“The seller may do that, but Rick won’t. It’s in Rick’s best interest to report the sale. Otherwise, the seller might be able to renege on the deal. By reporting the property, Rick will guarantee the transaction, and he’s too smart not to do that.”
Intrigued by the logic of Ben’s hypothesis, Lisa put down the decision and turned toward her own computer, which was also logged onto Lexis’s Public Records database. As the two clerks sat mesmerized in front of the property records, their silence was interrupted by the ringing of Ben’s phone.
“Hello. Justice Hollis’s chambers,” Ben answered.
“Hey, is this Ben Addison? The same Ben Addison that worked at Wayne and Portnoy two summers ago?”
Rolling his eyes, Ben recognized the voice of Adrian Alcott. He forced a congenial tone. “How’re you doing, Adrian? Great to hear your