by Brad Meltzer
“How’d he know about this?” Ben asked.
“It’s no big deal,” Nathan said casually. “Every paper carried the story. Apparently, the information was leaked last night.”
When Ben saw a similar headline on The Washington Post, he breathed a small sigh of relief.
“I’m just impressed they let Eric cover such a big story,” Nathan said.
“It is the Supreme Court,” Ben said. “That’s his specialty.”
“Give him a break. He’s been keeping his distance for the last month.”
“Nathan, I’m not joking around with this. He’s not getting a break, and my deadline still stands. If Eric doesn’t move out by the New Year, I will. Either way, one of us is out of here.”
“And who’s going to pay for his part of the rent?”
“We can either find a new roommate or I’ll pay for it myself.”
“You’d actually pay double the rent, just so you wouldn’t have to look at him? Are you sure that’s the best solution?”
“What do you expect me to do? Give him a big hug and tell him all is forgiven? It’s not happening. If this were a silly little spat between friends, that’s one thing, but Eric went way beyond that. He—”
“Listen, I don’t need the speech,” Nathan interrupted. “I’m on your side. Ober’s really upset by this and he’s on your side. If you want Eric out of the house, that’s your decision. I just want you to consider all your options.” Flipping through the newspaper, Nathan asked, “Have you ever stopped to think what Eric might do back to you if you do make him move out?”
“What are you talking about?” Ben asked in disbelief.
“I’m just saying that if you made me move out, I’d be pretty pissed at you. Maybe I’d even write another story about you for revenge.”
“I dare him to write another story,” Ben said, seething. “I’d rip his head off. And then I’d—”
“Calm down,” Nathan said. “He hasn’t written anything. It was just a hypothetical.”
Ben took a sip of his juice. “You don’t really think he’d do that, do you?”
“If he did it once…”
“Are you telling me I should make up with him just so he doesn’t hurt me further? Are you absolutely nuts?”
“I didn’t say make up with him. I just think you should watch your back.”
Ben waved hello to Nancy, Hollis’s secretary, as he walked through her office on his way to his own. “Hi, Ben,” Nancy smiled back. Nancy had worked for Hollis for almost twenty years. She’d been with him when he was a judge on the D.C. Circuit, and she was one of the five people in his office the day he found out about his nomination to the Court. A matronly woman with graying brown hair, Nancy would probably work for Hollis until the day he retired. As far as she was concerned, there was no more exciting job in the world.
Nancy picked up a large envelope from the corner of her desk and held it out for Ben. “This just came for you. By messenger—must be important.”
“Thank you,” Ben said, and headed for his office. Before he took off his coat, he ripped open the package. Inside was the current edition of the Washington Herald. Eric’s byline was circled in red. Next to it was a handwritten message: “Still trust him?”
Asshole, Ben thought. Never lets me forget he’s around. Ben tossed the newspaper in the garbage and saw a pink message sheet with Lisa’s handwriting on it taped to his computer screen: “Call the Marshals Office. ASAP.” He pulled the message from his computer, crumpled it up, and added it to the garbage. Taking a quick glance at the Court’s telephone directory, he dialed. “Hi, this is Ben Addison, with Justice Hollis’s chambers.”
Seconds later, Carl Lungen, the chief marshal, was on the line. “Hello, Ben. How’re you doing?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” Ben said, struggling to remain calm. “What’s happening there?”
“Nothing much,” Lungen said. “I just happened to see that your roommate had another scoop, and it reminded me that we haven’t spoken in a while.”
“Listen, you know I didn’t have a thing to do with that story,” Ben shot back, raising his voice. “Every paper in the country carried it today.”
“I didn’t say you had anything to do with it,” Lungen said. “I just said it made me think about you. The last time we spoke, you promised that you’d come see us after you confronted Eric.”
“I never promised you that,” Ben said. “Fisk asked me if I’d come. I said I’d think about it. Now, I don’t mean to be abrupt, but is there anything else you want to talk about? I’m really busy here.”
“Actually, we were wondering what happened with Eric.”
As Lisa entered the room, Ben said, “Eric and I aren’t talking anymore. He had no excuse for his actions, so I told him to fuck off. All he could say was that he wanted to help his career. Any more questions?”
“There was no other explanation for his actions?” Lungen asked.
Ben wrote the word “Marshals” on a scrap piece of paper and passed it to Lisa. “If there was, he didn’t tell me,” Ben said. “Anything else?”
“One last thing,” Lungen said. “We wanted to take you up on your offer to take that lie detector test.”
Ben froze in his chair. “I don’t see any reason why—”
“It’s just precautionary. You know we’re trying to keep this investigation low-key, so we haven’t notified the justices yet. If you don’t, though…”
“I’ll take the test.”
“Great,” Lungen said. “We scheduled it for the twenty-third. Is that okay?”
“Sure. That’s fine,” Ben said. “That’ll be fine.”
“Great. We’ll see you down here in two weeks. Say hello to Justice Hollis for me.”
Ben hung up the phone and stared at his desk.
“What’s wrong?” Lisa asked. “What’d they want?”
“They saw Eric’s story about Kuttler’s nomination, and they want me to take a lie detector test.”
“No way,” she said, throwing the scrap paper at Ben. “That was in every paper in the country. The announcement ceremony is today. The white House leaked it late last night so they could get two days of press out of it.”
“Tell that to the marshals.”
“They can’t make you take a lie detector test,” Lisa insisted. “It’s a violation of privacy.”
“Well, they scheduled it for the twenty-third. And I’m going to be there to take it.”
“Why?”
“I have to take it,” Ben said, rearranging a stack of papers on his desk. “If I don’t, they’ll tell Hollis everything they know, which’ll definitely get me thrown out of here. And even if they’re just bluffing about telling Hollis, if I don’t take it, they’ll be more suspicious than ever.”
“I’ll tell you when they’ll be suspicious: when you fail the test.”
“I won’t fail the test,” Ben insisted. “Those tests are beatable. That’s why they’re not admissible in court. They’re not foolproof. At this point, I may’ve done something wrong, but I didn’t do anything maliciously against the Court. If I keep a cool head, I bet I can pass it.”
“If you say so,” Lisa said, shaking her head. “But, I still think—”
“You know what? I just don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“But—”
“I said drop it,” Ben demanded, refusing to look at his co-clerk. “I’ll deal with it.”
Later that evening, Ben returned home covered in the first snow of the year. Wiping frozen clumps of hair from his eyes, he searched for the key to his front door and unlocked it.
“Put your stuff down, we’re going out!” Ober shouted as he threw on his coat. Getting no reaction from Ben, Ober stopped and searched Ben’s face. “What’s wrong with you? You look like crap.”
“Thanks.” Ben dropped his briefcase on the floor and let his jacket slide from his arm.
“Tough day on the job, dear?”
“Terrible day
,” Ben said, undoing his tie and unbuttoning his collar. “The decision we’re working on still isn’t done. The Marshals Office is making me take a lie detector test. Rick’s on the loose. I can’t trust Lisa. My life is a mess.”
“They’re making you take a lie detector test?” Nathan asked. “They can’t do that.”
“I know they can’t, but they’ll tell Hollis if I don’t.”
“No offense, but are you coming with us or not?” Ober asked. “Nathan got promoted today and all we’re doing is moping around here.”
“You got the S/P job?” Ben asked. Nathan smiled. Ben gave him a bear hug. “Congratulations!”
“You are now looking at the newest member of the secretary of state’s policy planning staff,” Ober explained. “Whatever that is.”
“From now on, I get to muck with all the major policy work that comes through our department,” Nathan said.
“That is unbelievable!” Ben said. “I knew you’d get it. I hope you got a bigger office.”
“Bigger office, bigger computer, slightly bigger salary.”
“What more can you ask for?” Ben said. “And now I feel like a schmuck—here I was complaining when you had good news that you were waiting to tell me.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Nathan said.
“Enough of this friendship crap,” Ober said. “Let’s go out and celebrate!”
Ben ran to his room and changed into jeans and a chocolate-brown Henley. “Where are we going?” he asked as he walked downstairs.
“Guess,” Ober said.
“Are we really going there?”
“Hey, it’s my promotion,” Nathan said. “Now, c’mon, it closes at eight.”
When the three friends arrived at the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum, they stepped through the large plate-glass doors and into the heart of the building. Within a minute, they were all gazing up at the Milestones of Flight exhibit. Among the collection of aerodynamic marvels suspended from the roof were the Wright brothers’ original flyer, the Spirit of St. Louis, and Nathan’s favorite, Glamorous Glennis, the first airplane to fly faster than the speed of sound.
“How many flights did the Wright brothers take that first day?” Ben asked, reading a short exhibit card about the Wright brothers’ first flight.
“Four,” Nathan said.
“What was the day?”
“December seventeenth, 1903.”
“Who flew first?”
“Orville flew first for twelve seconds,” Nathan said, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “But Wilbur flew the longest with fifty-nine seconds.”
“I still don’t understand why you’re so into this stuff,” Ben said, looking at a replica of Sputnik I. “You have no science background, your father isn’t in the military, your—”
“Can’t you simply appreciate the wonders of technology?” Nathan asked. “Can your legal mind even comprehend such a thought? We’re in the midst of science’s greatest feat—escaping the bounds of our existence.”
Ober walked over to an authentic moon rock brought back by the Apollo 17 crew and rubbed the pale gray object. “This rock is so fake. It isn’t from the moon.”
“And you base this hypothesis on what?” Nathan asked. “Your vast knowledge of interplanetary geology?”
“It doesn’t feel real,” Ober explained. “It feels like it’s completely fake.” Turning around to the crowd of tourists that were walking near the exhibit, Ober announced loudly, “THIS ROCK IS FAKE! IT’S A HOAX!”
Putting his hand over the mouth of his roommate, Nathan said, “Can you be more embarrassing? What’re you, ten years old?”
“He’s twelve,” Ben said. He rubbed the moon rock for himself and added, “It really doesn’t feel real. It seems synthetic or plastic or something.”
“See, I told you,” Ober said.
“It’s a real moon rock,” Nathan insisted. “Read the sign. It was brought back by the crew of the Apollo Seventeen. It’s nearly four billion years old.”
“Maybe the real rock was radioactive, and when it killed a bunch of tourists, they replaced it with this smooth piece of junk,” Ober said.
“I refuse to have this conversation,” Nathan said. “The only reason it’s smooth is because millions of goofball tourists like you feel the need to touch it.”
Touching it one more time, Ober said, “It’s so obviously not real. I want my money back.”
“Would you like to go to the next exhibit?” Nathan asked. “Is that what you’re telling me?”
“I’m starving,” Ober said. “I just want something to eat.”
The roommates walked to the east end of the building and entered The Flight Line cafeteria. After filling their trays with premade sandwiches and plastic-wrapped desserts, they chose one of the cafeteria’s empty tables. “Tell me about the lie detector. When do you have to take it?” Nathan asked.
“Two weeks from now.”
“What if you fail it?”
“I have no idea,” Ben said, unwrapping his roast beef sandwich. “I assume that won’t be a good thing, but they never said what would happen. I don’t think they’ll fire me on the spot, but I don’t think it’ll help my case. My main concern is that they don’t tell Hollis. If it gets to him, he’ll never trust me with anything.”
“I don’t understand why they picked today to call you. Was it because of Eric’s story?”
“Of course,” Ben said. “They said it reminded them that we hadn’t spoken in a while.”
“And I guess you haven’t told Eric that.”
“Absolutely not,” Ben said. “He might write another story about it. All I have to do now is figure out a way to pass the test.”
“Ben, I know I’ve asked this already,” Ober asked, his voice uncharacteristically serious, “but are you sure you want Eric to move out?”
“You know how I feel,” Ben said. “Let’s leave it at that.”
“But what if he—”
“The tests are beatable,” Nathan interrupted, shooting Ober a look. “I’m sure of that. I saw a special on PBS about how the military gives soldiers special drugs that lets them beat them. It somehow calms their heart rates.”
“I heard that if you remain calm and focus yourself, you can definitely beat it,” Ben said. “The common criminal usually panics.”
“But white-collar criminals like yourself can usually keep it together?” Nathan asked.
“That’s really funny,” Ben said. “You’re a laugh riot.”
“Maybe you can get those military drugs through the State Department,” Ober suggested to Nathan. “Now that you’re a big shot there, you should be able to get anything.”
“I can definitely try,” Nathan said. “It can’t hurt to ask.” Taking another bite of his burger, he said, “So, did Lisa say anything about this?”
“Can you stop with Lisa?” Ben pleaded. “Ever since we’ve been back from Thanksgiving, it’s been impossible dealing with her. When she asks me about anything, I clam up.”
“I told you it was a bad idea to have sex with her,” Ober said, shaking his head.
“This has nothing to do with the sex part. We’re both perfectly fine with that. I just feel like an asshole for lying to her. Maybe you can’t understand, but Lisa’s a good friend of mine. I know you don’t trust her, but honestly, I do.”
“So go ahead and tell her whatever you want,” Nathan said. “Sleep with her every night. Dig yourself deeper. You’re a grown man; it’s your choice. I just want you to face reality.”
“Listen, I’m not complaining. I’m just saying it’s uncomfortable to lie to someone’s face.”
“Well, you better get good at it. You have a date with a lie detector in two weeks.”
Ignoring the light snow that melted on the car’s front windshield, Rick watched the entrance to the Air and Space Museum. “What’s taking them so long?”
“I’m sure they’re just looking around. Now get back to the real question: Ar
e you sure you can get the decision?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Rick said, turning on the defroster. “We’ll definitely get it. My source tells me—”
“I wish you’d stop relying on this source. Simply being close to Ben doesn’t mean a thing. We need—”
“Trust me, I know exactly what we need. And if we don’t get the decision from our source, we can always get it from Ben. I should be meeting with him sometime next week—I’m just waiting for him to get back to me.”
“How do you know he’ll agree to meet with you?”
Watching Ober, Nathan, and Ben leave the museum, Rick grinned. “I know Ben. Given the opportunity to catch me, he can’t resist. He values his career too much to let me walk all over it. Besides, even if he can’t catch me, how many people can say no to a three-million-dollar finder’s fee?”
Chapter 12
AT NOON THE NEXT DAY, BEN LEANED ON THE file cabinets in the corner of the room, waiting for his first draft of the Grinnell dissent to roll out of the printer. Anxious to hand the opinion over to Lisa, he knew she would have to find it impressive. Wait until she sees it, he thought as the first page crawled out. This dissent is so strong, she won’t know what to do with herself. First, apologies will flow freely. She’ll beg for my forgiveness. She’ll swear that she’ll never doubt me again. Clearly, she’ll say, “You are the superior writer.” She’ll then rip off her clothes and lie naked on the desk.
As Ben smiled to himself, Lisa burst through the door carrying two medium-sized boxes. She put them on the sofa. “Where were you? You missed the anniversary party for Blake.”
“Big deal,” Ben said, grabbing another sheet from the laser printer. “I couldn’t care less that he’s spent ten years on the Court. Besides, I really wanted to finish Grinnell. I was close to the end and I didn’t want to stop the flow of genius that was oozing out of me and into my computer.” As Lisa walked back to her desk, Ben asked, “What’d Blake do, anyway? Shake hands and thank everyone for their support?”
“Basically. But it was really nice. All the justices were there, and all the clerks and support staff. It was only about a half hour, but it was nice.” Putting on her reading glasses, she added, “And you missed the inevitable confrontation between Osterman and Kovacs.”
