The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [23]
Even without the flowers, Ben’s desk was still covered with paper. Amid the piles of cert petitions were drafts of forthcoming decisions. Each set of documents was enclosed in a brown folder marked “Confidential—Justice Hollis’s Chambers Only.” Although there was nothing to prevent anyone from opening a folder, Hollis was convinced that the moral consequences would deter potential peekers. Each folder was also labeled with a yellow Post-it, which Ben and Lisa used to identify the status of a document. Not a single opinion went to Hollis until both were satisfied with its content. Quickly scanning the Post-its, Ben was surprised to see one marked “First Draft—Kramer decision.”
Lisa entered the office. “Morning, sick boy. How’re you feeling?”
“I’m fine.” Holding the Kramer folder in his hand, he said, “You didn’t have to do this. I was assigned the first draft.”
“I know, but you were sick, and I had some free time on my hands, so I figured—”
“You didn’t have to write a full extra opinion, though. You have enough to do.”
“Forget about it,” Lisa said. “I wanted to help you. I did it. It’s done. Be grateful.”
Waiting until Lisa sat at her desk, Ben smiled. “Thank you.”
At noon, Lisa and Ben walked down to Union Station for lunch. After years of languishing in ruin, the station was once again a tourist haven. Under the linked barrel-vaulted ceilings, between the statues and columns and sculptures and archways, more than a hundred upscale shops had popped up, along with a multiplex movie theater and, of course, a food court. Every time he walked through, it made Ben sick.
Lisa and Ben skirted the massive groups of tourists and grabbed a table in the corner of the food court. “Are you okay?” Lisa asked, watching Ben pick at his french fries.
“I’m fine. There’s just something I have to tell you.”
“Wait a minute. If you’re about to tell me you’re in love with me, I may vomit.”
“It’s not that,” Ben said. “You wish it was that.” Wiping his hands with a napkin, he asked, “Remember Rick? Hollis’s old clerk?” Lisa nodded. “About three weeks ago I casually told Rick the outcome of the CMI case. A few days later, you know what happened—Maxwell risked all his money on a legal victory. When I tried to find Rick, he’d disappeared.” Lisa’s mouth dropped open. “Rick Fagen was never a clerk for the Supreme Court. The number he gave me is disconnected; he’s moved out of his apartment building; he’s gone.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Lisa said, her sandwich still in her hand. “Why the hell did you tell him the decision?”
“We were just bullshitting about it one day,” Ben said defensively. “He said he was curious about it and I told him. Every time we needed advice he helped us. I couldn’t say no.”
“But you’re never supposed to let out a decision,” Lisa said, raising her voice.
“Listen, I screwed up. I know it,” Ben said. “But he totally suckered me in. Believe me, you would’ve done the same thing. It was a perfect setup.”
“I can’t believe this.”
“Lisa, calm down. I told you this because I trust you. You won’t say anything, will you?”
Lisa put down her sandwich and looked at her co-clerk. “This is serious stuff, Ben. We can’t just sit on this.”
“I know. But until I can prove it was Rick, I want to keep this low profile. Nathan is having the State Department run a search on him, and Eric is asking his newspaper contacts for info about the apartment building where Rick lived.”
“We should tell Hollis.”
“I’m not telling Hollis,” Ben insisted. He leaned toward Lisa. “Believe me, I was up all night about this. If I go to Hollis, I’m fired. Even if I meant no harm, I violated the ethics code. If I’m fired, my whole life is over.”
After a long pause, Lisa asked, “Why did you tell me this?”
“Because I didn’t want to see you get hurt, too. I don’t know if Rick’s targeting every clerk or if I’m his one