Osterman abruptly looked up at his guest. “You’re late. Now give me a moment.” Small and lanky, Samuel Osterman had thick glasses and a thin comb-over of black hair. At fifty-nine, he was one of the youngest Chief Justices in history, but his poor selections in eyewear and hairstyle made him look old beyond his years. Looking back up at Ben, he said, “Rather than facing the weather outside, I’ve asked that our food be delivered to us.” He pointed to the antique table on the right side of the room. “I figured we’d eat up here.”

“That’s fine with me,” Ben said.

“Sit, please.”

“Thank you,” Ben said, easing himself into the leather chair opposite Osterman’s desk.

“Columbia, Yale Law, and some time with Judge Stanley,” Osterman said, recalling the facts from memory. “So how has your term been so far?”

“Very enjoyable,” Ben said.

“Nervous about something?” Osterman asked, pointing to Ben’s foot, which was tapping against the carpet.

“No,” Ben said as he stopped tapping. “Just a bad habit. How was your vacation?”

“It was fine. And yours?”

“Wonderful,” Ben said dryly.

“Tell me,” Osterman said, “any new cert petitions come through that sound worthwhile?”

“Actually, there’s one that challenges the president’s new farm subsidy program. It seems intriguing.”

“Farmers are Jeffersonian reactionaries who haven’t had a progressive thought in their lives,” Osterman said.

“That’s one way to look at it,” Ben said, surprised by Osterman’s reaction. “But don’t you feel that-”

“Ben, don’t feel. Law is not about feeling. If you learn one thing during your time with the Court, you should learn that life is a tragedy for those who feel and a comedy for those who think.”

“And it’s a musical for those who sing,” Ben offered. When he saw Osterman’s eyebrows lower behind the rim of his eyeglasses, Ben quickly added, “I know what you mean, though.”

Before Osterman could say another word, the office door opened, and his secretary walked in. “Lunchtime.”

An hour later, Ben returned to his office. “Finally,” Lisa said. “Tell me-what’d Rick say? What’d he want? How was lunch?”

“Taking the easiest question first, I’d say lunch was a complete disaster,” he said, collapsing on the sofa. “And y’know how everyone says Osterman has Coke-bottle glasses? He doesn’t. He has bank-teller windows attached to his face.”

“Forget about him,” Lisa said. She had picked up a huge salad from the deli and was eating it at her desk. “What happened with Rick?”

“Oh, yes, asshole number two. He wants American Steel.”

“But that comes down Monday,” Lisa said. “It’s already Friday.”

“I assume that’s the point,” Ben said, slumping on the sofa. “I’m sure the last thing Rick wants is to have us try to scheme around him.”

“Do you think everything will be ready?” Lisa asked through a mouthful of greens.

Ben paused. “I honestly have no idea.”

“What do you mean, you have no idea?”

“I have no idea,” Ben said, raising his voice. “I have no idea where the marshals are; I have no idea if they’re doing anything right; I don’t even know if they’re on my side anymore. For all we know, they could be the ones working with Rick.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“How is that bullshit?” Ben asked defensively. “They promised to contact me, but I haven’t heard from them in a week. Rick is demanding a brand-new case, and he wants it two days earlier than we can give it to him. He has information that’ll get my friends fired and put us all in jail. I’ll be disbarred, and every single thing we’ve worked for will be gone. If the plan doesn’t work out perfectly, I face those consequences. Now where’s the bullshit part?”

“It can still work out perfectly.”

“It’s already screwed up. Involving my roommates makes the whole thing a mess.”

“I don’t want to have this argument. It can still work out. Now what else did Rick say?”

Ben looked at his watch. “He should be calling back any minute. That’s when I have to tell him whether I’ll hand over the decision.”

“Was he adamant about getting it tonight?”

“He seemed to be.”

“Try and stall until Sunday. That way we can contact-” There was a knock at the office door.

“Come in,” Ben yelled. Nancy stepped into the room.

“And how are you two doing today?” Nancy asked, carrying a small pile of books and papers. “Don’t you look tired,” she said to Ben as she handed Lisa a thin manila folder.

“Are these the corrections for the commercial speech dissent?” Lisa wiped the salad dressing off her hands with a napkin before she picked up the folder.

“You got it,” Nancy said. Walking past Ben’s and Lisa’s desks, she approached the back wall of the office and straightened the framed picture of the justices. She then turned toward Ben, who was still stretched out on the sofa. “Have you been getting enough sleep?”

“Oh, yeah. I got a full hour last night.”

“You really should take a day off,” Nancy said. “Every year I watch the clerks here kill themselves. It’s just not worth it.”

“I know…” Ben began. His phone started ringing. He jumped from the sofa and put his hand on the receiver.

“Thanks for the delivery. I’ll give you the rewrite before the end of the day,” Lisa said to Nancy.

“Take your time. He doesn’t expect it until Monday,” Nancy said, leaning on Lisa’s desk. “So do you have any interesting plans for the weekend, or are you working?”

Convinced that Nancy was not leaving the office anytime soon, Ben reluctantly picked up the phone. “Justice Hollis’s chambers,” he said. “This is Ben.”

“Are you ready to deliver?” Rick asked.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Ben said, as he struggled to sound as cheerful as possible.

“I’m not joking anymore.”

“I’m fine,” Ben forced a laugh. “I’m just visiting with some colleagues.”

“What’s your answer?” Rick asked.

Ben turned his chair away from Lisa and Nancy. “I need more time.”

“This isn’t Grinnell. You don’t need more time.”

“I do,” Ben said. “It’s not done yet.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” Rick warned. “I know that decision is finished.”

“I swear-” Ben began.

Rick hung up.

“Hello? Are you there?” Replacing the receiver, Ben turned around and faced Lisa and Nancy, who were staring at him.

“Is everything okay?” Nancy asked.

“Yeah. Fine,” Ben said nonchalantly. “I got disconnected.”

“Don’t worry,” Nancy said. “They’ll call back.” Walking to the door, she added, “Lisa, I’m serious about the corrections. I can tell Hollis won’t look at it until Monday.”

“Thanks,” Lisa said as Nancy left the room. As soon as the door closed, Lisa looked back at Ben. “What’d he say?”

“The son-of-a-bitch hung up on me!” Ben said. “He asked for the decision, I tried to stall, and he hung up. I don’t believe it.” Ben and Lisa waited for the phone to ring again. After a full minute, Ben said, “He’s not calling back. What the hell is going on?”

“He’s just trying to make you crazy,” Lisa said.

“It’s working,” Ben said. “What should I do?”

“Relax. I’m sure he’ll call back.”

“He’s not calling back. What the hell is going on?”

“He’s just trying to make you crazy.”

“It’s working. What should I do?”

“Relax. I’m sure he’ll call back.”

Smiling as he paced across Lungen’s office, Fisk was thrilled that the microphone was finally working. “I don’t know what they’re up to, but there’s no way this kid is innocent.”

Lungen’s eyes were focused on the small charcoal-gray speaker on his desk. “I don’t know,” he said. “Whoever this Rick is, he’s got Ben terrified. It sounds like he’s being blackmailed.”

“Blackmailed or not, he broke the law.”

“We don’t know that,” Lungen said. “I still think we’re missing half the story.”

“You must be kidding,” Fisk said as he stopped pacing. “Within the first five minutes we put this thing on, we hear them talking about leaking a decision to an outside party.”