by Brad Meltzer
“I’ll tell you later,” Nathan said. “Now’s not the time.”
“But isn’t this illegal?” Ober asked.
“Kind of, but it’s an emergency,” Nathan said. “We need this information.”
“Actually, I have a way around the illegal part,” Ben said, grabbing the phone from Nathan. “Ober, it’s me,” he said. “Let me ask you a question: What do you do when a wacko writes a letter to the senator?”
“It depends,” Ober said. “Serious death threats go straight to the Secret Service. But if it seems like the writer is just a regular wacko, we’re supposed to use our discretion.”
“Perfect,” Ben said. “Then here’s what you do: Write a fake death threat to the senator and sign it Rick Fagen. But make the letter a little weird. That way, if anyone ever asks why you opened the investigation, you’ll give them the letter and say you were just trying to protect the senator’s life.”
“Nicely played,” Nathan said, taking back the phone. “Ober, one last thing. Make sure we get a good signature on the autograph machine. You can spot those fake ones a mile away.” Nathan said good-bye and hung up the phone. “Feeling a little better?”
“A little.” Ben wiped his still-wet hair from his forehead. “By the way, thanks for coming home.”
“You give the order, I follow it,” Nathan said, saluting his friend.
Later that afternoon, the phone rang in Ben’s room. “Hello?” he answered, stretching from his bed to pick up the receiver.
“Ben, it’s Lisa. I just called to see how you were feeling.”
“I’m doing okay,” Ben said, uncomfortable about lying. “It was just some stomach cramps.”
“Are you bullshitting me?” Lisa asked. “Because I’ll come straight over there after work.”
“I swear, I’m okay,” Ben said, lying back on his bed and staring at the ceiling. “I have an upset stomach and I wasn’t feeling well. Is that okay?”
“Sure. Fine,” Lisa said. “So, how much have you missed me?”
“Tons. Now what happened today? Anything exciting?”
“Nothing really. Everyone’s been talking about the Charles Maxwell case. Hollis is worried that once the decision is announced, everyone is going to scream that he had an inside source.”
“It’s definitely possible,” Ben said as he fidgeted with the vertical blinds that covered his window.
“I guess,” Lisa said. “I just think the media sucks Carter’s left peanut. They cry conspiracy at the drop of a hat.”
“Carter’s left peanut?” Ben laughed. “What decade are you living in?”
“You never heard that? That’s a famous saying.”
“I’m sure it was,” Ben said sarcastically, “back when there was an oil crisis.”
“Listen, I don’t need to be made fun of. I have better things to do. Meanwhile, who sent you the flowers?”
Quickly realizing he’d forgotten to throw away Rick’s bouquet, Ben tried to stall. “What flowers?” he stammered.
“There’s a giant basket sitting on your desk.”
“They’re probably from my mother. I told her I wasn’t feeling well last night.”
“Do you want me to open the card?” Lisa asked. “Because I can see the envelope right next to—”
“No!” Ben yelled. “Leave it alone.”
“Sorry,” Lisa said. “I didn’t—”
“It’s not your fault. I just don’t like people opening my mail.”
“Maybe I should take the week off from work,” Ben said as he and Nathan made dinner.
“No way,” Nathan said, dicing a large onion. “You don’t want to call attention to yourself. The best thing you can do is just go about your business.”
“I won’t be able to concentrate, though. I have to find Rick. I have to—”
“Forget it,” Nathan interrupted. “What are you going to do? Wander aimlessly around the city until you bump into him? If Ober opened the investigation correctly, we’ll have some information by the end of the week.” He pulled the lid off the rice cooker and a fragrant cloud of steam wafted into the room. “Have you decided whether you’re going to tell Ober what happened?”
“I have to,” Ben said as he set out two plates on the table. “He’s my friend.”
“He’s also a moron,” Nathan added.
“Yeah, but he’s still my friend. And he has a right to know what that letter’s about.”
“How about Eric?” Nathan asked as he dumped the diced onion into a saucepan.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to drag everyone into this. It’s bad enough you two are involved.”
“I appreciate the concern, but I think you should tell Eric. Maybe some of his contacts at the paper can find out something about Rick’s building.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Ben agreed.
“Have you thought about telling Hollis?”
“I can’t,” Ben said, shaking his head. “He’d lose all respect for me. Not to mention having to fire me for violating the Code of Ethics.” As he put out forks and napkins on the table, he added, “I think I may tell Lisa, though.”
“Bad idea,” Nathan said. “Definitely a bad idea. You hardly even know her. What makes you think she won’t turn you in?”
“She wouldn’t,” Ben said. “Lisa’s a great friend. Besides, she has a right to know. She’s spoken to Rick. For her safety alone, I have to tell her.”
“She’s in no danger. You don’t have to say a thing.”
“I do,” Ben said. “It’s the right thing to do. If the situation were reversed, I’d want her to tell me. Besides, with all those flowers Rick sent to the Court, it’s clear that he isn’t just going away. I think he’s trying to tell me that he knows how to reach me—and if that’s the case, I have to warn Lisa.”
“Just be careful,” Nathan said. “I would hate to see it backfire on…Damn!” Nathan missed a clove of the garlic he was chopping and sliced into his finger. “Son of a bitch!” he yelled.
“Are you okay?” Ben asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Nathan said. He ran his bleeding finger under the faucet. “It’s just a tiny cut.”
“Those’re the ones that hurt the most.”
Just then, Ober and Eric returned. “Home, crap home,” Ober announced as he walked through the door. Heading straight for the kitchen, he looked at Nathan. “Now what was all that secrecy about today? What the hell happened?”
Holding his finger and looking at Ben, Nathan was silent.
“I got into a bit of trouble,” Ben said, trying to be as casual as possible.
“It better be bad,” Ober said. “Writing fake death threats to a senator could get me thrown in jail.”
“You wrote a death threat to a senator?” Eric asked, stealing a slice of red pepper from the cutting board.
“I’ll tell you what happened,” Ben said, “but you have to swear you won’t say a word.” He quickly explained everything that had happened, including his and Nathan’s encounter at Rick’s old building.
“You’re a dead man,” Ober said. “They’re probably plotting your death right now.”
“I told you not to tell him,” Nathan said to Ben.
“Eric, do you think you can find out anything about this building from people at work?” Ben asked.
“I’ll try,” Eric said, not meeting Ben’s eyes.
“What?” Ben asked, noticing Eric’s uneasiness.
“This is no joke,” Eric said, sitting at the kitchen table. “This guy Rick, whoever he is, isn’t some petty scam artist. You can’t just walk up to Charles Maxwell and say, ‘I’ve got a secret.’ Rick’s got to be connected.”
“I’m sure he is,” Ben said. “When we went to his building today, the manager wouldn’t say a single word about him.”
Eric paused for a minute, then said, “I know you may think this a crazy option, but if you want, you can go to the press with this.”
“No way,” Ben said. “If the Court l
earns I violated the ethics code, they have to fire me, and my career is ruined. And on top of that, I’d look like a fool in front of millions of people.”
“You did get suckered pretty badly,” Ober said as he reached for his own piece of red pepper.
“Thanks,” Ben said. “Thanks for your support.” He looked at Eric. “At this point, I still want to see what we can find out ourselves. My career is in enough jeopardy, and the last thing I want to do is publicize that fact.”
“Whatever you want,” Eric said. “It’s your life.”
When Ben returned to work the next day, he immediately searched for the card from the floral bouquet. Ripping up the tiny note, Ben thought about what to do with the basket. He didn’t want to keep it around, but was afraid that if he threw it away, Lisa would be even more curious. He eventually put the bouquet on top of one of the file cabinets. That way, he could decorate the office and say the flowers were from his mother.
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 and only Sucker of the Year. I don’t expect you to lie for me, and I never want to get you into trouble. I wanted you to know because you’re my friend.”
Lisa was silent for a minute. “So those flowers you got yesterday—they weren’t from your mom, were they?”
“They were from Rick. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I just…”
“Did you check the basket for bugs?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know—bugs, listening devices.”
“You don’t think—”
“Let’s get out of here,” Lisa said, pushing her chair away from the table and grabbing her bag.
The two clerks ran up the escalator and dashed out of Union Station. Watching them from the opposite corner of the food court, Rick leaned back in his chair. “Where are they going?” he asked.
“I couldn’t hear,” Rick’s associate said as he approached the table. “But did you see the panic on their faces? They don’t know where to run.”
Rick smiled. “The funny thing is, it’s only going to get worse.”
Racing down First Street, Ben and Lisa didn’t say a word until they returned to the Court. “Hey, guys,” Nancy said as they marched past her desk. “How was lunch?”
“Good,” Ben said.
“Fine,” Lisa said.
They darted into their office and slammed the door behind them. They headed straight for the file cabinet, where Ben grabbed the large wicker basket. When he put it on the sofa, they rolled up their sleeves and methodically ripped the enormous bouquet apart. Flower by flower, they crushed every corolla and scrutinized every stem. Twenty-two roses, fourteen irises, eleven lilies, and four stems of freesias later, the sofa, as well as half of the office floor, was covered with the picked-apart remains of a previously well-organized floral arrangement. They found nothing. “It has to be in here,” Lisa said. “There’s no other reason to send flowers.”
“Maybe he just wanted me to worry,” Ben suggested. “Or maybe he’s playing with my mind.”
As Lisa wiped off the sofa, Ben reexamined the pile of flowers. For fifteen minutes, they repeated their inspection of each individual bloom. Then they ripped apart the basket itself. Again, nothing.
“Damn,” Ben said, pushing the pulpy mess from the sofa. “It’s impossible.”
“I don’t think we missed anything.”
Ben leaned back on the sofa. “Of course we didn’t miss anything. We just wasted our time.”
“It’s okay. You know we had to do this. I mean, what if we really did find something?”
“But we didn’t,” Ben said, nervously picking at the sofa’s worn fabric. “We can’t find anything.”
Lisa lightly put her hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay to be scared about this.”
“It’s just that my life—”
“I know what’s at stake,” Lisa said. “And this is more than you should have to deal with. But we’ll get you through it.”
“I don’t want you to get involved. I only told you to warn you.”
“Too lat
e, baby,” Lisa chided, her hand still on Ben’s shoulder. “Now, are we going to sit here all day or are we going to try to find this guy?”
Looking at his co-clerk, Ben forced a smile. “You’re a good friend, Lisa Marie. If I go to jail, I’m taking you with me.”
Later in the week, Ben, Lisa, and Ober waited for Nathan to return from work. In the living room of Ben’s house, Ben and Ober sat on the large blue couch, while Lisa sat alone on the love seat, her feet up on the cushions. “I don’t understand it,” Lisa said. “It’s almost nine o’clock. Where the hell is he?”
“He said the search request would be finished by around seven or eight,” Ben said, looking at his watch. “Maybe it’s just running a little late.”
“Maybe he was captured by Rick and his band of rogue clerks,” Ober suggested as he clipped his toenails. “Now we’ll have to go rescue them using makeshift weapons made from common kitchen appliances.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Ben asked, looking at his roommate.
“It’s just a thought,” Ober said.
Lisa tried to change the subject. “I still don’t understand how you all managed to wind up in Washington. All of my friends are scattered around the country.”
“It’s actually pretty simple,” Ben explained. “Nathan, Eric, and I are all interested in politics, so Washington seemed like the right choice. Ober came because he didn’t want to be left out.”
“That’s not true,” Ober said, looking up from his feet. “I came here because I believe in Senator Stevens.”
“That can’t possibly be true,” Lisa said. “You don’t know squat about Stevens.”
“I know plenty about Stevens.”
“Name one thing you know about him,” Lisa challenged. “Pick any platform and explain it.”
After a long pause, Ober laughed. “He’s against crime and he’s prochildren.”
“That’s a revolutionary thought,” Lisa said. “And here I thought Stevens ran on the always popular pro-crime, anti-children platform.”
“Leave him alone,” Ben added. “Ober is a man of unusual knowledge. He knows more than he lets on.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Lisa said.
