Brad Meltzer - The Tenth Justice

Also by Brad Meltzer

Dead Even

The First Counsel

The Millionaires

THE TENTH

JUSTICE

BRAD MELTZER

WARNER BOOKS

An AOL Time Warner eBook

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Copyright 1997 by Brad Meltzer

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

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ISBN 0-7595-8730-2

First eBook Edition: February 2003

For Cori,

who changed my life

the moment she entered it

In a capital full of classified matters, and full of leaks, the Court keeps private matters private.
Reporters may speculate; but details of discussion are never disclosed, and the vote is revealed only when a decision is announced.

THE SUPREME COURT HISTORICAL SOCIETY

Equal Justice Under Law

Five votes can do anything around here.

WILLIAM BRENNAN

Supreme Court Justice

BEN ADDISON WAS SWEATING. LIKE A PIG.

And it wasnt supposed to be this way.

In the past three hours, Ben had read the current issues of The Washington Post, The New York Times, Law Week , and Legal Times . Last night, before going to bed, hed committed to memory every major Supreme Court case from the previous session. Hed also made a list of every Supreme Court opinion Justice Mason Hollis had ever written, and, to be safe, hed reread Holliss biography. No matter what the subject, Ben was convinced he was prepared for any topic Justice Hollis might raise. In his briefcase, he had packed two legal pads, four pens, two pencils, a pocket legal dictionary, a pocket thesaurus, andsince hed heard that Supreme Court clerks typically work straight through luncha turkey sandwich. Without question, Ben Addison was ready.

But he was still sweating. Like a pig.

As he stood outside the Supreme Court, a half hour early for his first day on the job, he was entranced by the gleaming white columns of the nations highest court. This is it, he thought, taking a deep breath. Its finally here. Running his hand through his recently cut brown hair, Ben climbed the wide marble stairs. He counted each step, in case Justice Hollis was curious how many stairs there were. Forty-four, he told himself, filing the information on a mental index card.

Ben dragged open the heavy bronze doors and entered the building. A security guard who sat next to a metal detector said, Can I help you?

Im Ben Addison. Im here to clerk.

The guard found Bens name on his clipboard. Orientation doesnt start for another half hour.

I like to be early, Ben said with a smile.

Right. The guard rolled his eyes. Go straight down the hall and make your first left. Its the first door on your right.

Lined with marble busts of past chief justices, the stark white Great Hall was as impressive as Ben had remembered. A sly smile lifted his cheeks as he passed each sculpture. Hello, Supreme Court, he whispered to himself. Hello, Ben, he answered.

Ben pulled open the large wooden door, expecting to see an empty room. Instead, he saw eight other law clerks. Brown-nosers, he muttered to himself as he sat down in the only empty chair.

As inconspicuously as possible, Ben sized up his new colleagues. He recognized three of the eight clerks. On his far right was a well-dressed man with stylish, tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses who had been the articles editor of the Stanford Law Review . To his left was a tall black woman who was the former editor in chief of the Harvard Law Review . Ben had met both of them at a national Law Review conference at Yale. As Ben recalled, the Stanford man was a former reporter for the Los Angeles Times , while the Harvard woman used to be an Old Masters expert for Sothebys. Angela was her name. Angela P-something. Finally, seated next to Ben was Joel Westman, a fellow classmate from Yale Law. A political analyst, Joel had spent his prelaw school years as a White House speechwriter. Nice rsums, Ben thought. Struggling to appear casual, he smiled and gave friendly nods to all three clerks; they nodded back.

Ben nervously tapped his foot against the plush carpet. Dont worry, he told himself. Itll be fine. Youre as smart as anyone else. But as well-traveled? As well-heeled? That wasnt the point. Remember your lucky underwear, he reminded himself. He had bought the now fraying pair of red boxer shorts when he was a freshman at Columbia. He had worn them on the first day of every class, to every midterm, and on every important date. During finals, if he had exams on three consecutive days, the boxers would stay on for all of them. He had worn them throughout his three years at Yale and to every clerkship interview. Todays the day, he decided, that the lucky underwear comes through in the sacred halls of the Supreme Court.

A middle-aged man in a gray, pin-striped suit came in, carrying a stack of manila envelopes. He strode to the podium and counted heads. Im Reed Hughes, he said, solidly grabbing the sides of the podium. On behalf of the Clerks Office, Id like to officially welcome you to the Supreme Court of the United States. At the risk of repeating information youre already familiar with, I thought it would be appropriate to tell you a little bit about what your next year here at the Court is going to be like.

Within seconds, four clerks pulled out pens and notebooks.

Pathetic, Ben thought, fighting the urge to take out his own notebook.

As you know, each justice is permitted to hire two clerks to assist in the preparation of decisions, Hughes explained. The nine of you starting today will join your nine co-clerks who started one month ago on July first. I realize that all eighteen of you have worked extremely hard to get where you are today. For most of your lives, youve been running a never-ending race to succeed. Let me tell you something I hope youll take seriously. The race is over. Youve won. You are law clerks of the Supreme Court of the United States.

Did you get that down? Ben whispered to Joel. Were the clerks.

Joel shot Ben a look. No one likes a smart-ass, Addison.

The eighteen of you represent the best and the brightest of the legal community, Hughes continued. After screening thousands of applications from the countrys top law schools, the justices of this Court selected you. What does that mean? It means your lives are forever changed. Recruiters will offer you jobs, headhunters will take you out to expensive dinners, and potential employers will do everything in their power to hire you. You are members of the countrys most elite fraternity. The current secretary of state was a Supreme Court clerk. So was the secretary of defense. Three of our nine Supreme Court justices were former Supreme Court clerks, which means that someone in this room has a pretty good shot at becoming a Supreme Court justice. From this moment on, you are the hottest property on the board. Youre Boardwalk and Park Place. And that means you have power.