The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [90]
“That gives us three weeks to get it done,” Ben said, “assuming that he’ll want his usual week to pass it around to the other justices.”
“Fine,” Lisa said. “Let’s get started.”
“I plan to get started,” Ben said, picking up his own legal pad. “But if you’d like to suddenly be in charge of first drafts, be my guest.”
“Oh, don’t give me that sarcasm. I’m sorry if I crossed your intellectual line in the sand by giving you some suggestions.”
“All I’m saying is that since we’ve been here, I’ve been the one to formulate the attack. Then you get to punch holes in it and patch things up. And at this point, I’m not ready to write the Grinnell attack. Before I put a thing down on paper, I need to spend at least two days in the library researching background information for this case. I’m sorry if you’re all ready to write it off the top of your head, but that’s not how a good decision is written. This isn’t high school debate.”
“Don’t pick a fight with me over this. Now can we talk about the opinion?”
“Hello? Have you been listening?” Ben asked. “I just said I don’t want to do that.”
“Well, I want to,” Lisa said.
“Why? So far, we’ve never done it that way. Why are you suddenly so obsessed with it now? It’s just another opinion.”
“Yeah, but this is the first decision we’re writing where you think the other side is right,” Lisa said.
“So that’s what this is about?” Ben asked, raising an eyebrow. “You actually think I’m going to weaken our dissent so I can have a personal victory?”
“I didn’t say—”
“You don’t have to say it. I can see it on your face. You really think I’d do that, don’t you?”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking,” Lisa said, walking back to her desk. “I just feel very strongly about this decision, so I’d like to take special care with it.”
“Don’t lie to me, because…”
“Ben, don’t threaten me!” She threw her legal pad on her desk. “If you want to be a control freak on this one, go ahead. Be my guest.”
Later in the week, Ben went to Mailboxes & Things to check his P.O. box. He was relieved to see that Rick’s phone bills had finally arrived. When he turned over the envelope to open it, he saw a small note written on the back: “Hope these help. Rick.”
“Damn,” Ben whispered to himself. He tore open the envelope and pulled out the copies of Rick’s bills. After scanning through them, he put the copies back in the envelope and returned to the Court. Relieved that his office was empty, he picked up the phone and dialed Nathan’s number.
“Administrator’s Office,” Nathan answered.
“I just picked up Rick’s phone bills.”
“They took long enough,” Nathan said. “What’d they say? Anything helpful?”
“Of course not,” Ben said, flipping through the small pile of bills. “It’s exactly what we thought. He must’ve had a cell phone for all his personal calls because the only calls on here are to my home number, my work number, and to operator assistance.”
“He’s definitely organized,” Nathan admitted.
“I’m telling you,” Ben said, tossing the bills on his desk, “I’m really worried that we’ll never be able to find him.”
“Don’t say that. He’s smart, but he can’t be that smart.”
“I used to think that, but I think he may be that smart.”
“Don’t get down on yourself. You ordered the yearbooks, didn’t you?”
“I did it yesterday. They’ll be here next week at the latest, which—” Suddenly, Lisa entered the office. Ben grabbed the phone bills and slid them into his desk drawer. “No, I definitely agree,” he said to Nathan. “Ober gets pissed whenever we forget his birthday.”
“Did Lisa just walk in?” Nathan asked.
“Oh, yes. Absolutely,” Ben said. “That’s why we should pretend we forgot it this year.”
“Do not say a single word to her.”
Looking at Lisa, Ben said, “Nathan says hi.”
“Hey,” Lisa said.
“She says hi back,” Ben relayed. “Meanwhile, I have to go. Justice and righteousness call.” Hanging up the phone, he turned to Lisa. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing really,” Lisa said. “You guys planning Ober’s birthday?”
“Yeah,” Ben said. “He gets pissed if we forget it, so