The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [89]
“That’s seventy-two thousand pictures,” Nathan said, tapping his wrists against the steering wheel.
“Actually, it’s only a little more than half of that,” Ben said. “We don’t have to look at the women.”
“What’s this we crap?” Ober asked. “You’re the only one who can recognize him.”
“So I’ll be looking through a lot of pictures,” Ben said. “Do you have a better plan? If I can spot his picture, we’ll have everything we need.”
“Can you even get all of the old yearbooks?” Nathan asked.
“Of course,” Ben said. “If I call a school and say that a Supreme Court justice would like to get some yearbooks, we’ll have them by the end of the week. In law school, the justices are gods who walk among men.”
“Then that sounds like the best available option.” Leaning forward on the steering wheel, Nathan added, “Now tell me what you think about the Lisa thing.”
Ben stared at the letter in his hands. “I still don’t think you’re right, but at this point, I’m not taking any chances. I trust her, but I can live with leaving her out of the plan.”
“That’s all I ask,” Nathan said. “The fewer people involved, the better.”
Early Monday morning, Ben returned to the Court wearing his favorite blue suit, a freshly starched shirt, and his black wool overcoat. Although not as well rested as he’d hoped to be, he was relieved to be finished with the holiday. As soon as he was able to see a corner of the regal marble building, however, anxiety resurfaced. The Court was always a constant, and lately, so were Ben’s problems. He made his way to his office, but paused before opening the door. Okay, he said to himself. Just play it cool with her. Nothing’s changed; you’re still friends, but you can’t tell her about your plans with Rick. Worried that his face would reveal his distress, he shut his eyes and imagined Lisa naked. Fine, I’m calm, he thought as he opened the door. I’m a rock. I’m unshakable. Walking inside, he was not surprised to see Lisa, who always arrived before he did.
“Why the goofy grin?” Lisa asked as Ben sat down on the office sofa.
“Can’t I just be happy to return to work? Is that so bad?”
“Don’t give me that,” Lisa said. “I’ve seen that look before. You’re still thinking about Thanksgiving, aren’t you?”
“Lisa, although you would like to believe that you are the center of my universe, I am sorry to say you are not. Besides, that look was a quiet-calm look. This look is a it’s-nice-to-be-back look.”
“That’s not a nice-to-be-back look,” she said. “It’s your constipated-medicated-stare look.”
“Constipation. Sex with you. Similar,” Ben deadpanned.
“That was cute,” Lisa said. “Easy, but effective.” She leaned back in her chair. “By the way, since when are you so calm about our whole sex thing? I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”
“I’m actually fine with it now. As long as it doesn’t get in the way of things, I’ll be fine.”
“I’m fine with it as long as you’re fine with it,” she said. “So tell me what’s going on. Have you thought about what you’re doing with Rick?”
“No. Not really,” Ben said, moving over to his desk. “I’ve been thinking more about writing Grinnell than I have been about that.”
“Good.” Lisa picked up a legal pad and followed Ben to his desk. “Because I’ve been thinking about all the ways to approach the dissent.” Putting the note-filled pad in front of Ben, she explained, “Since Veidt won’t go all the way with the Osterman crowd, I think we can really limit their decision to these facts. They’ll say Grinnell is suffering a disproportionate burden, but we can say this applies only in rare cases involving certain historic monuments—that way we’ll—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ben said, trying to calm Lisa. “Relax a second. First I want to know when Hollis wants the decision.”
“I got a note saying he wants our first draft done within the next ten days, and he wants the whole thing done before