The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [163]
“Was Fisk in on it as well?” Ben asked as Lungen handcuffed him to the chair.
“I should be so lucky,” Lungen said. He turned toward Rick and added, “That’s where I was all day. Sorry I couldn’t help you bring these three in.”
“Fisk giving you a hard time?” Rick asked.
“Are you kidding? It’s taken every excuse I can think of to keep him from rushing in and arresting everyone. He’s more anxious than a virgin on prom night.”
Rick smirked as he watched the shock on Ben’s face. “Will he stay quiet?” Rick asked.
“He seems okay now, but I’m worried he’ll go nuts when Ben doesn’t show up for work tomorrow.”
“He won’t do anything,” Rick said. “From what you’ve told me, Fisk won’t take a crap without your permission.”
“I don’t believe this,” Ben said as Lungen turned his attention to Nathan.
Lungen reattached Nathan’s loose handcuff to the armrest on Nathan’s chair. “C’mon, Ben,” Lungen said, “did you really think you were that good? Without me, Fisk would’ve bugged your office weeks ago instead of days ago. And that lie detector test—you would’ve never passed without my help. The way I see it, you should thank me.”
“I don’t get it,” Ben said. “Fisk administered that test.”
“But who do you think rigged the machine?” Lungen asked, sitting on the couch next to Rick. “You couldn’t fail that test if you tried.”
“And you thought your roommate gave you placebos and you passed anyway,” Rick said.
Ben turned toward Nathan. “I never thought…”
“It’s okay,” Nathan whispered, his voice trembling. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Oh, man,” Lungen laughed, slapping Rick’s knee.
“Did you see their faces when I ran in here? They thought it was all over.”
“It will be,” Rick said. “In less than eleven hours.”
By four in the morning, all but one of the lights in the suite had been turned off, and an eerie silence pervaded the darkened room. A small tabletop lamp next to the sofa provided just enough reading light for Lungen to see his newspaper. In the bathroom, Lisa was asleep on the tile floor, her fear overwhelmed by sheer exhaustion. In the living room, Nathan struggled to keep his eyes open, even as his head bobbed down with sleep. Ben was wide awake in the corner of the room, his eyes blazing as he stared at Lungen.
Sitting on the sofa and flipping through his newspaper, Lungen stood guard over the three friends. When he looked over his shoulder, he caught sight of Ben. “If you’re going to stare like that, you might as well say something,” Lungen said. Getting no response, he added, “Why don’t you just go to sleep?”
“I’m not tired.”
“Fine, stay awake,” Lungen said, turning back to his paper. “Like I care.”
“I hope the money’s good.”
“The money’s great.”
“How much does integrity go for these days?” Ben asked. “A million? Two million?”
Lungen folded up his paper and turned back toward Ben. “I don’t need morality lessons from you.”
“That’s fine,” Ben said. “But I hope you realize you’ll be a fugitive for the rest of your life.”
“What are you talking about?” Lungen asked. “This isn’t some rinky-dink operation. When this is over, I’m going right back to my job. And when I walk in with Ben and Lisa, the two most wanted clerks in America, I’ll probably get a promotion.”
“Sure you will,” Ben said.
“Believe what you want,” Lungen said. “But by tomorrow night, Ben Addison is going to be a wanted man. When the SEC traces our stock sales, guess whose name will be attached to the transfer? And that bank account Rick opened for you during CMI—don’t think that baby’s not getting another big deposit. When you put that together with the tape of you giving out the decision, there’s not a person in the world who will believe your story.”
“You don’t have a prayer.”
“I won’t need one,” Lungen said. “Who do you think America is going to believe—the clerk with the million-dollar bank account, or the marshal who brought him in? And if you try to finger Rick, what proof do you have? At this point, you can’t even prove he exists.”
Ben was silent. As his shoulders tensed, the handcuffs pulled