“Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but what if I don’t want the sensitive type? What if I want a big, dumb jock who’ll be fun to fool around with, and who won’t care if I don’t call him?”

“You like big jocks?”

“For a few thrills, sure. I’d never marry one, but they’re fun to hook up with.”

Confused, Ben scratched his forehead. “How can you like big jocks? How can you go to bed with someone who just thinks of you as a sexual conquest?”

“Let me tell you something, the sexual conquest is a two-way street, and I’m driving a Ferrari.”

Laughing, Ben said, “I take back what I said before. You’re way too aggressive to find a man. You’ll probably be lonely for the rest of your life.” Getting up from the sofa, Ben flipped through the newest pile of paper on his desk. “What’s happening today?”

“A whole new batch of cert petitions just came in. Hollis wants us to really tear through them since he expects we’ll write the opinion for the Grinnell decision.”

“They didn’t vote on that already, did they?”

“Take a look at your watch, moron,” Lisa said. “Conference isn’t until tomorrow. Hollis doesn’t think they’ll even get to it, but it’ll definitely be done by next week. Osterman’s been stalling. And Justice Veidt’s clerks said Veidt’s on the fence, so Osterman has been working on him since the cert petition came in.

“What’s wrong with Veidt? Do you think he has a thing for Osterman?”

“I doubt it,” Lisa said. “Veidt’s an intellectually unimpressive justice who knows he was selected because he was confirmable. I think he figures that by hanging with the chief justice, it’ll give him some credibility.”

“That could be,” Ben said, “but my way’s much cooler. Can you imagine? Two Supreme Court justices caught in a sordid love affair? How great would that be?”

“It’d sure be more interesting than reading cert petitions all day.”

After a quick lunch in the Court’s cafeteria, Ben walked down to Mailboxes & Things on Constitution Avenue. Time to break out the overcoat, he thought as a chilly November wind pulled the last leaves from the trees. Fighting off the impending arrival of winter, Ben blew warm air into his cupped hands. Within ten minutes, he arrived at the store, which was painted red, white, and blue-the color scheme of choice for so many D.C. vendors.

“Can I help you?” a cashier wearing a turtleneck asked.

“Yes, I received an overdue payment notice for a P.O. box. Not only did I pay for my box in advance, but the number on the bill wasn’t my box.”

“Oh, I’m sure we just made a mistake,” the cashier said. “Let me look up your name.”

“My name is Be-” Catching himself, Ben remembered the fake name he’d given to open the box. “My name is Alvy Singer.”

“Singer, Singer…” the cashier said, looking through his files. “Here it is.” He pulled out the file and continued, “You opened box twelve twenty-seven on October twenty-eighth, and you paid for that in advance. You then opened box thirteen twenty-seven on October twenty-ninth, requesting that you be billed for it.” Reading the file, the cashier added, “It says here you also paid an extra twenty-five-dollar lock fee so that both boxes could be opened with the same key.”

“Of course, how stupid of me,” Ben said, wiping away the cold sweat that had suddenly formed on his forehead.

“Would you like to pay your balance today?”

“Sure. That’s fine,” Ben said. He pulled out his wallet and paid the bill.

When he reached the room of P.O. boxes, Ben was in a full-fledged panic. Looking around, he was relieved no one was watching him. He pulled the key from his pocket and opened his box, 1227. Empty. Directly under his was box 1327. Inserting his key, he opened the box. Inside was a single manila envelope. Taking out the envelope, he locked the box and walked to a small counter.

Inside the envelope was a single typed sheet of paper. “Dear Ben,” he read. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch, but, as you’ve probably guessed, I’ve been quite busy. Needless to say, all went extremely well. I realize you’re frustrated with what’s happened, but please stop trying to find me. You’re wasting your time. Tearing apart my flowers was useless, your bribery attempt at my old apartment was pathetic, and as far as your telephone bill idea-do you really believe I would make important calls on a line so easily traceable? Come on, now. Since you still haven’t gone to the authorities, I assume you understand the consequences to your own career should you reveal your story.

“At this point in time, I propose a truce. If you are interested, please meet me at Two Quail on Saturday at eight P.M. The reservation has been made under your name. If you do need to contact me, please feel free to use our P.O. box, number 1327. Yours, Rick.”

Ben stuffed the letter back into the envelope, left the store, and walked briskly back to the Court. How the hell does he know everything? he asked himself. Bounding up the Court’s steps, Ben waved his I.D. card at the guard and sidestepped the metal detector. Within a minute, he was charging through the reception area on the way to his office. Slamming the door behind him, he threw the envelope on Lisa’s desk. “You won’t believe it,” he said.

“Where did you get this?” Lisa asked as she read the letter.

“He opened a P.O. box right under mine-under my fake name,” Ben said, his voice shaking.

“How did he know you had a P.O. box?” Holding up her hand, Lisa stopped Ben from answering. “Let me finish reading this first.” Eventually looking up, she asked, “Okay, now, how did he know you had a P.O. box?”

“How did he know my fake name? How did he know what we did with the flowers? How did he know I called the phone company? How did he know we broke into his old apartment building? He knows my parents’ address, for Chrissakes! He billed me for the P.O. box at my parents’ house!”

“Calm down a second,” Lisa said, putting her reading glasses on the desk. “Let’s think about this.”

“If he goes near my family, I swear I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Relax, I’m sure he did that just to scare you.”

“Well, it’s working,” Ben said, taking off his suit jacket. “He’s obviously been following me for the last month of my life. He knows everything I do, everywhere I go. He knows where my family lives…”

“You have to calm down. Let me think for a minute.”

Pacing up and down the office, Ben remained silent.

“I can understand that he knew we broke into the apartment building, but I don’t understand how he knew about the phone bill. Both times you called the phone company, you called from his office, didn’t you?” When Ben nodded, she added, “I doubt he’s tapped the phone in here. I mean, this’s the Supreme Court.”

“There’s no way he could tap this phone-not with the security system we have here,” Ben agreed. “But how did he know what we did with the flowers? We’re the only ones that knew about that.”

Still focused on the phone bills, Lisa said, “Most likely, he didn’t change his address on purpose. Then he just waited to see what we did. The phone company probably told him you ordered a copy of the bill.” After pausing to reflect, she continued, “I just can’t believe he knew we’d do that.”

“This guy is no dummy,” Ben said, unable to stand still.

“Do you really think he has someone following you?”

“How should I know? How else would he know my fake name for the P.O. box?”

“Are you going to meet with him?”

“Of course,” Ben said. “This guy is all mine. I’m gonna nail his ass to the wall.”

“You sound like a bad TV movie,” Lisa said. “I think you should come up with a serious plan first.”

“Definitely,” Ben agreed. Sitting at his desk, he pulled out a sheet of paper. “I’d like to get everyone together for a little brainstorming session. Can we do it at your place?”