The Last Justice (22 page)

After finishing lunch, the four sat huddled around a computer screen in Javier's home office. The room had seven computer monitors, with all sorts of peripheral equipment and cords strewn across the floor. A life-size Bart Simpson doll stood in the corner, posed in a lightsaber fight with an even bigger Darth Vader. Kate peeked out the drapes that covered the French doors. The backyard-which had only a few scrubby junipers, hollies, and a tree house when they were kids-was tastefully landscaped around a kidney-shaped swimming pool. Beside the pool was a bar, a hut-like structure of the sort one might find at an island resort. She imagined Javier shirtless, holding a drink, and entertaining guests.

Kate watched Javier maneuver the keyboard and mouse. His once skinny arms were now sculpted and defined, and his jaw seemed squarer, stronger. But it wasn't just his physical appearance; it was the way he carried himself. The boy she knew, so filled with self-doubt and insecurity, was gone, and in his place was the man she had always hoped he would be.

"The CD is password protected," Javier said. "The good news is that it's off-the-rack software, so if you give me some time to call a few of the tech guys at my firm, I'll probably be able to get in."

With that, Aiden announced he was going downstairs to play video games. McKenna and Kate stayed with Javier, watching him make phone calls and type manically on the computer.

A half hour later, Javier clapped his hands and crowed, "We're in!"

They watched as an image slowly appeared on the screen.

"Yikes!"Javier said.

Fading into focus was a photo of a woman sitting on a wooden desk stacked with books and papers, her naked legs wrapped around a man whose pants were bunched around his ankles.

"I'm not a complete stranger to porn,"Javier said, wincing at the picture, "but geriatric porn's a new one for me."

"Unbelievable," McKenna breathed.

Kate looked at him, openmouthed.

"What?"Javier asked.

McKenna pointed to the man on the screen. "You don't happen to know who he is, do you?"

"Nope."

"Meet Thomas Kincaid, the late chief justice of the Supreme Court, before he was killed on Black Wednesday."

"So, an old guy finds some Viagra-what's so unbelievable?"

McKenna moved his index finger to the woman in the picture. "That's Justice Carmichael, who survived the attack. At the time of this picture, they were both married, and not to each other."

The group suddenly realized that the "CJK/JC"written on the CD's sleeve stood for "Chief Justice Kincaid and Justice Carmichael"-it was now so obvious, Kate could kick herself. She studied the picture. "It was taken in Justice Carmichael's chambers."

"How can you tell?" McKenna said, moving closer to the screen. Unlike Kate, he hadn't clerked for the Supreme Court and had visited chambers only a few times, including when he paid the traditional visit to each justice when he was appointed solicitor general. Kate placed her finger near the screen and pointed towards four portraits hanging above the fireplace.

"The portraits?" he said.

"You got it." Carmichael's chambers had portraits of Sandra Day O'Connor, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Sonia Sotomayor, and Elena Kagan, the court's first women justices.

"That means someone with security clearance and access must have hidden the camera. It's a huge risk. Someone willing to do that could very well have a motive to kill."

"You think an affair between these old-timers could have something to do with the assassinations?" said Javier.

"I don't know," McKenna said. "The chief justice's widow has been under investigation. She made large cash withdrawals just before Black Wednesday. An affair between Chief Justice Kincaid and Justice Carmichael could answer two doubts the commission had about her involvement in the slayings."

"How so?" Kate asked.

"There's always been two core doubts that Mrs. Kincaid was involved. First, if she simply wanted to kill her husband, why take out so many innocent people? Second, why do it at the Supreme Court Building when she knew Chief Justice Kincaid's routine outside the courthouse, where there was basically no security? The chief refused to have a security detail unless he was going to a public event-usually people didn't recognize him outside the court, so he thought security just drew attention to him."

"So how does the affair change the analysis?" Kate asked.

"What if the assassinations weren't about killing Chief Justice Kincaid? What if it was about killing his mistress? If only Carmichael had been killed, it would make Mrs. Kincaid the prime suspect if someone learned of the affair. A rampage at the court, on the other hand, would divert attention away from any personal motive to kill particular justices. Remember, the FBI has speculated that the shooter missed Chief Justice Kincaid on purpose."

"Did I hear someone say `porn'?" Aiden interrupted as he entered the room. He looked at the computer monitor eagerly. "Ew-w!" he said, looking away from the screen. "I'll never be able to block that image out of my brain."

McKenna rubbed his chin with his knuckle. "Javier, can you get into a secure government computer system?"

"I assume you mean without permission?"

McKenna gave a shrug.

"I don't do that anymore,"Javier replied. "But I know some people..."

2:30p.m. The White House

he hearing in the Judiciary Committee will be first thing in the morning," John Crittenden, the White House chief of staff, said to the six men and women who, if things went smoothly, would soon be the next justices of the U. S. Supreme Court. The six sat across from Crittenden, J. Bradley Wentworth, and a lawyer from the White House counsel's office, at the long conference table in the windowless Roosevelt Room.

"The Committee chairman has assured us that it will be a perfunctory hearing and that we'll be wrapped up by tomorrow afternoon. We're on the calendar for a vote on the nominees the next day. I've been through the confirmation process before, and let me tell you, the criticism from the pundits and interest groups will sting, particularly because you won't be able to respond directly. The important thing is to keep your composure, look dignified, and let us handle any response. The good news is that they usually have at least seven weeks from the nomination until the hearing so they obviously won't have the time to formulate an effective attack."

Crittenden addressed the three liberal nominees his Democratic opponents had selected under the three-three deal. "We may not agree with some of you on the issues," he said with a friendly nod, "but rest assured, we plan to stand behind every one of you." Referring to three famous nomination debacles, he added, "There'll be no Robert Borks, Clarence Thomases, or Harriet Mierses on my watch."

"Let's hope no Harrold Carswells, either," one of the nominees quipped prompting light laughter from the group. Carswell, a Richard Nixon nominee to the high court, had been considered unqualified and rejected by the Senate after a senator defending his nomination infamously said, "Even if he is mediocre, there are a lot of mediocre judges and people and lawyers. They are entitled to a little representation, aren't they?" Years later, Carswell was arrested for allegedly soliciting sex in a public restroom.

Judge Petrov, not one to allow his knowledge of Supreme Court history to be outshone, added, "Better yet, let's hope there are no John Rutledges among us," referring to George Washington's nominee for chief justice, who was rumored to be mentally ill and who tried to drown himself after being rejected by the Senate.

Crittenden smiled and sat quietly for a moment. Humor was good; it broke the tension. "I know you're all ready for this, and we've been assured there will be no hard questions at the hearing. Judiciary Committee hearings are always Kabuki theatre and this one will be that to an extreme. We just released the latest poll figures, and the public overwhelmingly favors the bipartisan process that brought you here, so that should keep any wild-card senators in line. But we need to prepare for the worst. After the president's announcement today, Brad and others will spend the rest of the evening helping you

As with traditional Supreme Court nominations, each nominee would participate in mock confirmation hearings, called "murder boards," in which a handpicked group of lawyers, media consultants, and administration officials would help the nominees prepare just in case any of the senators should break ranks and go on the attack at the hearing.' sessions would be streamlined, and most of the time would be spent reviewing videos of confirmation hearings of former justices, such as Kagan, Roberts, and Ginsburg, who had performed well. Meanwhile, the White House Office of Congressional Liaison would spend every waking moment until the vote lobbying senators to make sure the three-three deal did not fall apart.

"Are there any questions?" Crittenden asked.

"I have one," replied Cynthia Edward King, a staunchly conservative Fourth Circuit judge. She was a distinguished-looking, middle-aged black woman who could intimidate with a mere glance.

"Yes?"

"The chief justice-has the president decided on the nominee for chief?"

"He hasn't decided," Crittenden said. "As you know, Justice Carmichael has been taking on the chief's duties for now. I would be surprised, however, if she was nominated to chief, but we'll all find out the president's decision at the announcement together."

Conventional wisdom was that one of the new nominees would be selected chief. The chief justice nomination required Senate confirmation, even if a current justice, such as Carmichael, was the nominee, and it was assumed that the administration would not want to add a seventh justice to the confirmation process.

"Any other questions before we go?" Crittenden said, looking at his watch.

The nominees were silent.

"Well, let's introduce you to the world."

Petworth neighborhood, Washington,

hey were crowded into Javier's Jaguar, driving through D.C.'s Petworth neighborhood. Javier had agreed to drive them just in case the authorities were looking for Aiden's car.

Kate peered out the car window as the well-groomed brick colonials set about with picket fences gave way to unkempt row houses and chain-link fences. There was trash on the sidewalks, and the house windows had metal bars.