The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [119]
“Sure,” Ben said. “Just abandon me now. It’s okay.”
“C’mon, Ben, don’t give me guilt. You know that we have to get those cert petitions done. At least this way, one of us will be working on them.”
“No, you’re right,” Ben said. “It’ll be good for me to have some time alone. That way I don’t have to share my burden with anyone else.”
“Don’t say that,” Lisa said. “You know I care about—”
“I’m just joking,” Ben interrupted. “Go ahead. We’ll talk about it later.”
Avoiding the main lobby of the Washington Hilton, Rick slid his coded key into the computerized lock and walked into the side entrance that adjoined the parking lot. As he headed straight for the elevators, his pace was brisk and confident. Getting off on the tenth floor, he made a sharp right turn toward room 1014. Sliding his key into the lock, he turned the knob and stepped inside.
“Where the hell have you been? You’re a half hour late.”
“Where I’ve been is none of your business,” Rick said, a faint smile lighting his features.
“So you made a lot of money. Big deal.”
“It was definitely a big deal,” Rick said. He sat back on one of the canary-yellow couches and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table. It was a plush suite: three rooms, oil paintings on the walls, deep cream carpet, and a full bar. “Did you know that President Reagan was shot at this hotel?”
“I didn’t know that. But I’m sure the information will someday come in handy.”
“It’s true,” Rick said. “Locals still call it the Hinkley Hilton.”
“That’s great. I’m thrilled.”
“What’re you so pissed about?” Rick asked.
“Listen, I don’t have time for this. I have to get back to work. Is the money transferred or not?”
“The last five hundred thousand will be there at the end of business today,” Rick said. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a small sheet of paper, and slapped it on the coffee table. “Here’s the account number. I hope you enjoy your winnings.”
“I definitely will.”
“And to think,” Rick said, “all of this happened because you don’t like your roommate.”
“You have it all wrong. Just because I took a decision from Ben’s briefcase doesn’t mean I don’t like him. I just saw a golden opportunity that I couldn’t walk away from.”
“Sure, sure. And you’re a great friend otherwise. That’s the real reason you told me about the lie detector and the yearbooks and the—”
“I meant to ask you: How come Ben couldn’t find you in the yearbooks? I thought that was a foolproof plan on his part.”
“Then you’re as big a fool as he is,” Rick said. “The flaw with the yearbook plan is that it assumes I went to a top law school. Being the intellectual snobs you are, you can’t fathom the possibility that smart people exist at non–Ivy League schools as well.”
“You’re definitely right. You fooled me.” Slapping himself on the knee, he rose from the couch. “Oh, well, you win some and you lose some.”
“Well, I guess you won this time.”
“That’s for sure.”
“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you,” Rick said, extending his hand.
“You, too,” Eric said as he walked into the hallway. “Maybe I’ll see you on the beach.”
Chapter 15
AT NINE-THIRTY MONDAY MORNING, LISA AND Ben prepared to go down to the courtroom to watch the justices announce the decisions to the public. “I still think you should turn yourself in,” Lisa said, putting on her beige-and-black-striped suit jacket.
“No way.” Ben tightened his gold and navy tie. “Not at this point.”
“Why not? I’m sure they’d go easy on you.”
“It doesn’t matter. That’s not a viable option as far as I’m concerned. Even if I don’t go to jail, they’ll have to fire me from the Court. And if they’re going to take me out of this place, you better believe I’m going out kicking and screaming. I refuse to serve myself up on a platter.”
“It’s your life. I just think you’re making a mistake.”
A light knock on the door interrupted the debate.
“Come on in,” Ben said.
The door opened and Nancy entered. “Ben, your visitor’s here.”
Ober moved around Nancy and walked into the room with his arms outstretched.