The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [138]
“I’d love to. But can I get back to you in a week or two? I’ve got so much on my plate right now, I’m afraid I’d be a terrible guest.”
“Definitely,” Alcott said. “You take care of whatever you need to. I’ll give you a call in the next few weeks.”
“That’d be much better,” Ben said, doodling a picture of a gun pointed at the head of a man in a suit. “Hopefully, things’ll be calmer by then.”
When Ben hung up the phone, Lisa asked, “Wayne and Portnoy?”
“You got it.”
“Let me guess—they’re hoping to stick their head farther up your butt, and they want to give you another ten grand to do it?”
“They just want to take me to lunch,” Ben said as he added another gun to his doodle.
“Hey, cheer up,” Lisa said. “You should be happy that prestigious firms are still interested in you. There are worse things in life.”
“You mean like having a psychopath dangling your biggest fuckup in front of the whole world?”
“Exactly. Having a personal psychopath is so much better,” Lisa said. “Meanwhile, are you going to tell your roommates about the cassette Rick sent?”
“Probably not,” Ben explained. “If I do that, I have to act upset all night.”
“And you’re not upset?”
“I’m trying not to be,” Ben said as he added a third gun to the doodle of himself. “Hopefully, everything’s going according to plan.”
Ben walked up the block toward his house and took in the silence that winter brought to the city. It was cold but clear; no snow and all stars. Taking deep breaths of crisp air, he paused on the front steps. It’s almost over, he thought. He eased his key into the lock and turned the knob.
“Where the hell were you?” Nathan asked. “Lisa said you left the Court almost an hour ago.”
“We’re in deep shit,” Ober added from the couch.
“This is the final straw for me,” Nathan yelled, waving a piece of paper in front of Ben’s face. “I’m done.”
“What’s going on?” Ben asked, dropping his briefcase on the floor.
“Read this,” Nathan said. He handed Ben the piece of paper.
“Dear Mr. Bachman,” Ben read to himself. “Since October of last year, Nathan Hollister has illegally used the following equipment for his own personal use:” Scanning down the list that included the telescopic camera lens, the wireless microphones, and even the Prynadolol for the lie detector test, Ben’s eyes darted to the letter’s closing paragraph. “Although I am unwilling to reveal my identity, you can rest assured that this information can be verified by checking the equipment records in the Office of Security. There is no reason for a member of the Policy Planning Staff to have access to such equipment. I hope you will investigate this matter. A copy of this letter has been sent to your supervisors, as well as the Secretary of State.”
“Crap,” Ben said, looking up at his roommate. “Mr. Bachman is your boss?”
“He’s the general counsel,” Nathan said. “Which means that if Rick sent this letter, it was entered into Bachman’s correspondence log the moment it was opened. And that means Rick can get proof the letter was received.”
“So Bachman will have to start an investigation,” Ben said.
“Exactly,” Nathan said. “If Bachman doesn’t investigate, he’s at risk since there’s clear proof that his office opened the letter. It’ll look like he ignored the whole thing. And after that disaster with his confirmation hearings, he’s terrified of looking like he sat on a scandal. Rick did his homework here,”
“When’d you get that letter?” Ben asked.
“It came in the mail today,” Nathan explained accusingly. “One for me, another for Ober, and a third for Eric.”
“Damn,” Ben said, pushing the letter back in Nathan’s hands.
“As soon as I got the letter I tried calling you,” Ober explained, holding his own letter. “When I heard you left, I called Nathan and Eric and told them to rush home.”
“Did Rick send anything else with it?” Ben asked, terrified by the fact that his friends were not only deeply involved, but were in serious trouble.
“Nothing,” Nathan said. “No instructions. No explanation. Just the letter. It’s