Read Online The Court by William J. Coughlin - Free Book Online Page A

he stood up. “He’ll probably end up on the Supreme Court.”
    â€œAnd his vote will probably decide the law, at least in many cases,” Green said, almost to himself.
    â€œAh, just think of the power, Jerry. You’re going to be like the recording angel. It will be up to you whether this guy gets into heaven or not.”
    â€œAnd what kind of man he is will determine what kind of heaven it will be,” Green said, looking up.
    Deering laughed, then hurried out of the cafeteria. Green didn’t follow. He just sat quietly for a moment. He wasn’t thinking of the Supreme Court, or of the importance of what he had to do. He was thinking of Lansing. It was home, but he felt a terrible sense of dread.
    *   *   *
    â€œHey, Ben, do you have time for a quick cup of coffee?” Floyd Grant stood in the doorway, looking around at the cluttered cubicle. Grant was the Chief Justice’s senior clerk. The Court staff always referred to him as “the messenger from God.”
    Ben Alexander looked up from his work. “I’m up to my armpits, Floyd. With my boss sick, I don’t know exactly what to key on, so I’m trying to do it all.”
    Floyd Grant eased past a stack of open law books and cleared off a chair, carefully preserving the order of the papers he displaced. “Actually, I don’t think I could stand another cup of coffee. I’ve been appointed as a committee of one to talk to you. The coffee was merely a civilized excuse.”
    Alexander put down his pen and leaned back in his chair. “Shoot.”
    Grant grinned. “You’re new, Ben. You have to learn to horse around before you get to the point. It’s expected. We should talk about each other’s golf first, or racketball; maybe discuss our future plans. You see, we should talk about our families, old school chums, or anything but the thing in point. Finally, once these tribal preliminaries are over, it’s only then that we carefully start to approach the real issue. That’s how it’s done here in the Supreme Court.”
    Alexander shrugged. “Okay. I don’t have time for golf anymore. Anyway, I was never very good. When I leave here next year I hope to go with a big New York law firm as an associate. As a former Supreme Court clerk, I expect to make partner quickly. If all goes well, I should be a millionaire before I hit forty. I hope to meet and marry a beautiful girl whose father owns a giant conglomerate. If I don’t make it in the law business, I expect my father-in-law to take care of me. Does that sufficiently meet the qualifications for small talk?”
    â€œAny of it true?”
    â€œNo. Except the golf. I’m a lousy golfer.”
    Grant nodded wisely. “As long as you avoid the truth, you’ll do very well here, Ben. You’ll fit into the big picture, as the Chief likes to say.”
    â€œGood. Now what’s up?” Alexander asked.
    â€œRacketball is my game,” Grant replied, smiling. “I plan to leave here and accept an associate professorship at Stanford. From there, God willing, I’ll end up one day back at Harvard. I will write Grant on Evidence and be quoted by every good law journal in the country. Predictably, I will teach thousands how to try a case without ever once stepping into a courtroom myself. And when you are divorced by that beautiful conglomerate heiress, I will marry her, and let her old man take care of me.”
    â€œI hope all this satisfies your preliminaries, Floyd. I have work to do.”
    Grant nodded. “Has to be done. It’s all part of the mystique of being a clerk to the greatest legal minds in the land.”
    â€œGreatest?”
    â€œBite your tongue, Alexander. Men have died for even thinking such thoughts.”
    â€œLook, Floyd, I really am up to my ass in work.…”
    â€œObviously a Yale man.”
    â€œPardon me?”
    â€œWe never say