The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [121]
From the center seat, Chief Justice Osterman said, “Today we have a longer docket than usual. We will be handing down the decisions of Doniger v. Lubetsky; Anderson v. United States; Maryland v. Schopf; Galani v. Zimmerman; and Grinnell and Associates v. New York. Justice Blake will be reading our first three decisions, and Justice Veidt will be reading the remainder.”
“Get comfortable,” Ben whispered. “Blake’s going to take his own sweet time.”
“Thank you, Mr. Chief Justice,” Blake announced in his signature Southern drawl. Reading from his prepared statement sheet, he announced with painful slowness each of the decisions of the Court.
“How do they pick who speaks?” Ober asked.
“It depends,” Ben whispered. “Blake wrote the first three decisions, while Veidt was chosen because he was instrumental in the last two.”
When Blake finished, Osterman said, “Thank you, Justice Blake. Justice Veidt.”
Justice Veidt pulled his microphone close to his mouth and announced the first of his two decisions. A small man with stark dyed-black hair and gaunt features, Veidt was known for his writings on American legal realism, which made him popular with legal scholars and uninteresting to the popular media. Although he had heard that Veidt was one of the nicest justices sitting on the Court, Ben, at this moment, couldn’t muster anything but hate for him.
“How are you doing?” Lisa asked, noticing the lack of color in Ben’s face.
“I’m fine,” Ben whispered back.
With his hand still on the microphone, Veidt cleared his throat and announced the decision. “In the case of Grinnell and Associates v. New York, we agree that the burden borne by the plaintiffs is a great one indeed. However, the importance of historical preservation of this country’s landmarks cannot be overstated. The historical value of the property, combined with the limited expectations of the plaintiffs when the property was purchased, leads us to conclude that New York City’s Landmark Law does not constitute a taking of the plaintiff’s property. We therefore find for the defendant and reverse the Appellate Court’s decision.”
The marshal banged his gavel to close the session, the tourists left the room, and Ben leaned back in his chair, a wide smile of relief flushing his face.
“Congratulations!” Lisa said, hugging her co-clerk.
“I don’t understand,” Ober said, confused. “I thought you said that Grinnell was—”
“Not here,” Ben interrupted, holding up his hand and indicating the other clerks who were still filing out of their seats. Ben rose from his chair. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Wait a minute,” Ober said. “What the hell is going on?”
“Just shut up and walk,” Lisa said, pushing Ober from behind.
The three friends fought their way through the crowds that lingered in the Great Hall and made their way to the stairs on the north side of the building. As they walked upstairs to Ben and Lisa’s office, Ober struggled to make sense of the last five minutes. “Hold on a second,” he demanded, stopping on the stairs.
“Just wait,” Ben said, refusing to stop for his roommate. “I’ll explain in a second.”
When they entered the office, Ober waited for the door to close behind him. “Now tell me what the hell just happened down there.”
Ben’s phone rang. “I knew it,” Ben said to Lisa. “I told you it wouldn’t take ten minutes.”
“You were right,” Lisa said as Ober looked on, still bewildered. “I thought for sure he would try to sell the property first.”
“Hello,” Ben said. “Justice Hollis’s chambers.”
“You’re a dead man, Ben.”
“Ah, Rick, how’re you doing? Everything’s just swell here.”
“Make all the jokes you want,” Rick said, “but you’re now—”
“Let me tell you something, you piece of shit,” Ben interrupted. “You’re the one who picked this fight. You’re the one who approached