The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [129]
“And that’s your grand plan?”
“I never said it would change rail travel as we know it,” the boy snapped. “I’m just telling you my approach.”
“You planning to go to law school?” Ben asked.
“How’d you know?”
“I can smell lawyers a mile away. They have a distinctive scent.”
“Don’t mock what you don’t understand. Being a lawyer is the only way to be taken seriously these days. Without a law degree, no one will listen to a single thing I say, but if I’m a lawyer, they’ll give me real responsibility.”
“You think so?”
“I know so,” the boy insisted as the train started moving. “Good ideas can only get you so far. You need credibility to get real work. If you’re suffocating at your job, you should think about it. Law school’s for everyone. It’ll open up your future.”
“I appreciate the advice,” Ben said, as the train arrived at its next stop. “I’ll give it some thought.”
“I hope you do,” the boy said. “It may change your life.” The boy got up and walked to the door. “Well, here’s where I get off. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
“You, too,” Ben said as the boy stepped out. Seconds later, the subway doors slid shut and the train pulled away.
When Ben arrived at home, Eric and Ober were washing dishes in the kitchen. “Finally,” Ober said the moment he saw Ben.
“Don’t tell him,” Eric said, running a dish towel across the outside of their large ceramic pasta bowl. “He’ll hate it.”
“No, he won’t,” Ober said, his hands foamy with soap. “He’ll love it.” As Ben put away his coat, Ober called across the room, “We thought of a whole new way to organize the judicial system.”
“That’s great,” Ben said dryly, as he approached the kitchen.
“What happened to you?” Eric asked when he caught sight of Ben. “You look terrible.”
“Thanks,” Ben said.
“Everything okay at work?” Eric asked.
“It’s the best,” Ben said, pulling some leftover Chinese shredded beef out of the refrigerator. “Every day’s a pleasure.”
“You didn’t hear from Rick, did you?”
“Not yet.” Ben grabbed a fork from the utensil drawer.
“Screw Rick. He’s gone,” Ober said, rinsing a plastic mug. “Now listen to this idea. Here’s what we propose: To make the judicial system more efficient, wouldn’t it be great if everything—every case, every motion, every hearing—was decided by arm wrestling?”
“Just think about it for a second,” Eric said. “Don’t dismiss it too quickly.”
“Consider the possibilities,” Ober said. “Law firms would be populated with huge wrestlers; they’d recruit at all the best gyms.”
“It’d be a return to Darwinism,” Eric interrupted. “Survival of the fittest! Instant justice!”
“Your Honor, I object. One, two, three—case dismissed,” Ober said, pretending to be beaten by an imagined arm-wrestling opponent.
“So?” Eric asked as Ben sat down at the kitchen table. “What do you think? Pretty good idea, eh?”
Ben stared down into the carton of shredded beef. “Do you think I should turn myself in?” he asked.
“What?” Eric asked.
“You heard me. Do you think I should turn myself in?”
“Why would you do that?” Eric asked.
“So I could get out of this mess.”
“You wouldn’t get out of this mess,” Eric countered. “All you’d do is get in deeper. The moment you told anyone, you’d be fired.”
“So what? Is my job worth all this headache?”
Eric threw his dishrag on the counter and approached Ben. “Are you feeling okay?” he asked. “You have the best legal job on the planet. Why would you want to jeopardize it?”
“What do you think?” Ben asked Ober.
“If you’re actually serious, I agree with Eric. Why risk it all now? Rick’s beaten. He’s gone. What’s to worry about?”
“What if he comes back?” Ben asked. “What do I do then?”
“I have no idea,” Ober said. “But if you’re going to wreck your life, I’d at least wait until Rick showed his face again. Otherwise you’re throwing it all away for no good reason.”
“Maybe,” Ben said as he stabbed at his shredded beef. “Although I