The Court Page 11

  “Well, it’s a damn shame you didn’t go in for writing soap operas. My family could make you rich. All you’d have to do is follow us around and write it all down. You only remember four kids, but we added another. She’s four years old, and by God sometimes I think she’s the only mature person in the whole damn household. My oldest girl is an exchange student in Europe. She’s majoring in marijuana and abortions. At least they seemed to be her specialties here. Remember my son Charley? Well, Charley quit high school and is an oil worker in Houston. And my son Aaron, pride of Israel, is a wild-eyed born-again Christian, believe it or not. You know, there’s something basically screwy about a nice Jewish boy jumping around and singing and shouting in some little storefront church. All I ever hear around the house is Bible quotations. New Testament, of course. He says he wants to be a minister. Rachel, who is fourteen and looks twenty-five, is called ‘Cha Cha.’ She insists on it. I got a bunch of pimply-faced young studs hanging around the house every damned night like a pack of dogs in heat.” He munched on some more cookies. “I guess my family and my attitudes about things are a bit different than last time, eh?”

  It was his brother’s first reference to their last meeting. Green wondered if Hank was approaching a discussion of that incident. He hoped not.

  Hank finished the cookies and grinned. “So that’s the family history, Jerry. I’m still employed, although much of the romance of college teaching is gone, now that money is tight. I don’t get any more trips abroad to study the skulls of extinct tribes, no more watching thrilling sunsets in the Orient. Now all I see is the same shitty old sunsets everybody sees; the old red ball going down behind the dome of the state capitol. Mine is the song of middle age, kiddo; it’s a disgusting time of life.”

  “I’m in that league too, remember.”

  Hank Green snorted. “Oh yeah? Look at you. That overcoat you’re wearing is worth probably half my annual salary. If not, it sure looks like it. You’re a big deal Washington lawyer raking in those big bucks. You have a new wife, who is probably a sex fiend. You don’t have any children problems. If anything happens with your son, the dentist takes care of it. Hell, Jerry, you have conquered life. Admit it.”

  Jerry Green looked around the cluttered office for an ashtray.

  “Here, use this.” His brother handed him the now-empty cookie tin.

  He crushed out his cigarette.

  “Is your wife here with you?” his brother asked.

  Jerry Green shook his head. “No. I’m here on business.”

  “Suing some poor bastard?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Well, what then? Of course, if it’s going to violate your professional ethics or something, keep it to yourself, I’m just curious.”

  Green studied his brother. Hank seemed more like a friendly stranger. He looked different, and he talked differently. He was not the grim angry man of six years ago. That was the brother he remembered: brooding, intense, a powerful trim body, and piercing eyes. The fat man seated opposite him lacked all that, except for the piercing eyes.

  “It is confidential in a way. I’ll tell you about it when I can. It’s a political thing.”

  “Politics?” Hank asked.

  “More or less. I’ve taken a short leave from my law firm. I’m a special counsel for the White House, at least for a couple of weeks.”

  His brother whistled to show he was properly impressed. “When did this all happen?”

  “Just a few days ago. But don’t let me mislead you, Hank, it really isn’t a big deal. I’m just doing a job any errand boy could do. But they picked me. Anyway, I’m here for a few days.”

  “You should have let me know you were coming.”

  They stared at each other. Again there was an awkward silence.

  “If things had been reversed, would you have called me?” Jerry Green spoke the words softly.

  His brother continued to study him for a moment. Then he half smiled and shrugged. “Yeah, I see what you mean.”

  “Yes.” Green stood up and extended his hand. “I know you have work to do, Hank.”

  His brother pushed his bulk out of the chair. His grip was firm, but moist. They were both nervous. “Look, Jerry, what can I say? But if you’re going to be around here for a while, how about we go out to dinner? I’d invite you over but you know Adele. Jesus, it could cause her to hide in the attic for three days. Even paying the paper boy can be a major trauma for her. And then some days she’s okay, you just never know. Needless to say, we don’t entertain a hell of a lot. But you and I could go out. And if Adele is having one of her good days she can come along, too. How about it?”

  He wondered if the invitation was just a gesture or whether it was his brother’s way of extending the olive branch. But if that was it, it was a conditional peace. He was pointedly not invited to the house. He well remembered Adele, and he recalled that although she did have some emotional problems she was never that bad. Perhaps Adele was just a tactful excuse. Tact—for Hank that would be the most significant change of all. And perhaps it was just as well, they both needed time to consider the possibility of any further contact.

  “That sounds good to me, Hank. If I can work it in, I’ll give you a call. Are you in the book?” He didn’t want his brother to know he had gone to the trouble of looking him up.

  “What do you think this is, one of your big bad cities? This is a college town. Sure I’m in the book. Hell, outside of this zoo’s president, the board of trustees, my fellow faculty members, and my students, I have absolutely no enemies. I’m in the book.” Hank walked him to the door. “Hey, if I can give you a hand in any way, let me know. It might be a nice break from looking into a sea of bored faces.”

  “I’ll call you, Hank.” He shook his hand again. “It’s been good to see you.”

  Hurrying down the stairs Green knew his brother had stayed at the office door watching him. Green wondered what he was thinking.

  “Hey, Jerry!” Hank called.

  Green was halfway down the stairs. He turned and looked back.

  His brother had that same half grin on his face. “You remember Regina Kelso, your old girlfriend?”

  Jerry Green nodded. He was aware that several students in the lobby looked up, listening to the exchange.

  “She’s teaching here now. Nursing. Her name’s Carter. You ought to look her up. She always asks about you.”

  He felt a rising wave of embarrassment. The students waited to hear what he was going to say. He looked up at Hank. His brother’s heavy facial flesh seemed to curl around the contours of his crooked grin.

  “I’ll do that,” Green said. He turned, hurried down the stairs and out the double doors.

  It was only after he was out in the crisp autumn air that he noticed that his brother hadn’t asked him to take off his overcoat, nor had he thought to do so. Perhaps the oversight was due only to the shock of the unexpected encounter, or it might have been a reflection of their real attitudes. Green knew he had felt trapped and had wished to leave. Perhaps his brother had been equally uncomfortable and wanted him out.

  His feelings about his brother seemed confused. He wondered if Hank might be equally unsettled by their unexpected meeting.

  Green was again caught up in the moving river of students. They hurried past him, racing to get to their next class. He moved with the tide, drifting aimlessly across that part of the campus. He again was conscious of the distinctive blending of past and present. There was no “old” campus or “new” campus, at least not in the usual sense. The past and present had been brought together. It was not the old school, and yet, at the same time, it was. Both in the physical setting and in his own emotional preceptions, he was finding it difficult to separate the past from the present.

  As the rush of students diminished he found himself in front of the Hannah Administration Building. Inside he located an information office. He waited until two very tall and very hairy young men finished talking to a giggling blo
nde girl.

  “Where could I find a map of the campus,” he asked, after the two young men departed.

  She looked at him, and suddenly she was all business. She obviously recognized an intruder when she saw one.

  “Is there somewhere you want to go?”

  He hoped his smile disarmed her. “Several places. That’s why I need a map. I’m up here visiting one of my children,” he lied.

  The suspicion vanished. Parents were safe. They could be trusted with a map.

  She produced one from beneath a counter and handed it to him. “If I can help you in any way.…” She smiled.

  He shook his head. “I’ll get along, but thanks anyway.”

  He stepped over into the lobby area near the entrance and opened the map. It was multicolored, attractive, and professional. His eye searched the office index box. The School of Nursing was housed in building 183, which the building index proclaimed to be the Life Sciences Building, located at the far southeastern part of the campus, well over a mile away.

  Green considered walking there, perhaps to follow Hank’s advice and casually drop by to see Regina Kelso, now Carter. It was a tempting prospect. Then he realized that Regina might have changed as much as had his brother. It would be shattering if she were overweight like Hank, or even if her lovely hair had turned to gray, like his own. He decided that the memory of Regina Kelso should be preserved; so that she would always be young, soft eyed, and beautiful. Besides, he thought to himself, he had had more than enough of impulsive encounters for one day.

  He checked the index and located the law school on the map. It had been built on the banks of the Red Cedar River just south of the Auditorium. He folded the map, tucked it away in his coat, and headed across the campus toward the law school.

  It was only a short walk. He turned on to Farm Lane and recognized the old Auditorium. Next to it was a building unlike anything else on the campus, old or new. The law school building was shaped like the hull of a giant ship, its peak rising up like the prow of some massive supertanker. Although modern in every sense, the architect had cleverly blended brick and glass so that the structure conveyed the impression that it was reaching heavenward, not unlike the great cathedrals of Europe. Green stopped and admired it. The building seemed to radiate a sense of power, of vitality. It was an architectural triumph.

  He cupped his hands to protect the flame and lit a cigarette. The law school seemed to hold a fascination for him, much like an intricate piece of modern art. Long glass slats revealed students at study in a multilevel library. The interlacing of floors, bricks, and bookstacks made it seem a scene in stained glass. It was a remarkable effect.

  He watched two young men come out of the law school. They were arguing heatedly as they passed him. One carried a pile of lawbooks against his side, the force of his arm seeming to defy the pull of gravity. The other student had a knapsack full of books slung over his back. They were debating the implications of the Palsgraph case. The case was old, the granddaddy decision for determining proximate cause of an actionable injury. It had concerned a series of events set off by a man running for a train, but to these young minds the legal reasoning was still vital. To Green it seemed just another interesting blend of past and present.

  He inhaled and then expelled the smoke, watching it whipped away by the autumn breeze. He wondered if this business of past and present was unique to his imagination or something that naturally went with homecomings.

  He watched an energetic young couple emerge from the arklike law school. She was striking, a tall girl, beautiful, with a model’s high cheekbones. Her dark hair was long and loose. The breeze whirled it about her like smoke. She laughed at something the boy said. The boy, with curling yellow hair, was taller than the girl. They bounced along, their arms intertwined and their heads close together. Their delight in each other seemed almost to radiate from them. Green thought again of Regina Kelso.

  It was quite a distance back to his motel. He flicked the cigarette away and started walking. It would be a challenging and interesting assignment. He felt something like a hunter stalking his prey. He had seen the den, now he would find out about the habits of the animal who dwelled within. He felt better, much better.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The sound of shouting had been reported. That was most unusual. Although no clerk or other Court employee was ever allowed into the sacred precinct while the weekly closed-door conference was conducted by the justices, angry voices had been heard, the words too muffled to be understood. Despite the secrecy, within minutes of the conference’s end, word of what had transpired began floating through the Court building’s corridors like smoke. It was a lonely job, being a justice of the United States Supreme Court. Wives, family, and friends seldom understood or were interested in the legal nuances of the cases, nor in the intellectual infighting necessary to protect or project a point of law. But the justice’s clerks understood.

  Although not all the justices confided in their clerks, many of them did. And those confidences generally were quickly passed on to those unfortunates who lacked access to such inside knowledge.

  Ben Alexander could always count on a discreet word from Justice Howell on what was happening, but that was before the stroke, and now Brian Howell could speak to no one. Alexander felt isolated.

  The only thing he knew was the common gossip. The hall porter had been the first to report the shouting. One of the Court’s secretaries confirmed his account. Not since the days of Justice Douglas had such a thing occurred.

  Alexander found himself consumed with the desire to know the details. He had heard that several of the justices had stalked out of the conference, their faces grim.

  Floyd Grant stepped into Alexander’s office and closed the door. As chief clerk, Grant enjoyed the confidence of the Chief Justice.

  “You did hear about the conference?” Grant asked as he sat down.

  Alexander nodded. “Sure, the whole building heard. What happened?”

  Grant tamped some tobacco into his pipe. “The dragon lady,” he said simply.

  Alexander didn’t comment. He waited. The other man might hold back if he appeared too interested.

  “The Chief thinks she’s crazy,” Grant said. “If she were a man I believe the Chief was so damn angry that he would have thrown a punch, he was that upset.”

  “What happened?”

  “She insisted that a vote be taken on certain key cases. She wants to pick and choose. She knows which ones will result in a tie vote. If she likes the result below, she knows a tie will uphold the lower court’s ruling. So she wants those cases heard, written, and disposed of now. Of course, where a tie would work against her interest, she wants those cases put aside.”

  “I suppose they all feel that way, at least about the matters they really care about.”

  Grant nodded. “Sure, that’s human enough. But if the justices are allowed to pick and choose on that basis it would cause a legal bloodletting around here unlike anything we’ve ever seen. And the dissents would be legion. The Chief told them the cases would wait until something was decided about Howell.”

  “Oh?”

  “What the hell, that’s fair. Nobody gets any special advantage that way. If your man dies.…” Grant paused when he saw Alexander’s reaction. “Hey, I’m sorry, Ben, but that is a possibility.”

  Alexander nodded. “Sure. I understand. Go on.”

  “Well, if death does result, then a replacement will be quickly appointed. That would make the difference, there would be no even splits then. Another possibility the Chief has discussed lately is having a guardian appointed for your man. The guardian could then resign for him. That would create the vacancy.”

  “That would be pretty hairy legally.”

  Grant grinned. “You bet. If Justice Howell suddenly recovered, there would be all hell to pay. It could even put all the decisions rendered in his absence into question. However, I don’t think it’s being seriously considered, it’s just on
e of the possible avenues being explored.”

  “They say there was shouting at the conference.”

  Grant puffed on his pipe and nodded. “It started between the Chief and the dragon lady. She demanded a vote on moving the cases. The Chief refused. That’s when they got into a screaming match. Eventually everybody got into it.” Great clouds of smoke issued from the pipe. “But it’s only a matter of time now before she gets her way. She’s been lobbying the other justices. The Chief thinks she’d sleep with them if she thought it would help.”

  “Maybe just the threat would do the trick.”

  Grant laughed. “I’ll tell the Chief what you said. He’ll love it. By tomorrow it’ll be all over Washington.”

  “I’ll pass on getting credit.”

  Grant grinned. “Smart. Listen, what I came down to tell you was this. The Chief knows you’re a team player, Ben, and he appreciates it. He wanted you to know that whatever happens with Howell, you won’t be assigned to the dragon lady. He says that while he can’t guarantee it now, he would like to have you on his staff.”

  “I’d like that, too. Apparently he doesn’t anticipate Justice Howell coming back. What’s happening, Floyd? I’ve heard rumors that his condition has become worse, but I don’t want to bother his wife to find out.”

  Grant pulled at the pipe. “I’m not at liberty to say, but it doesn’t look good. Whatever’s going to happen will probably happen in a few days. Anyway, that’s what the Chief says.”

  “How does he know?”

  Grant stood up and knocked the ashes of the pipe into an ashtray. “You know him, he has wires everywhere. I’m not sure what he knows, but I think things will be resolved very shortly. Apparently the dragon lady has heard the same thing and is trying to force action on the cases before a replacement is selected.”

  Grant walked to the door. “The Chief wanted you to know you have nothing to worry about.” He paused. “And all this is confidential, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Well, one way or another, all hell is going to break loose here soon. So keep your head down and stay loose.”