* * *
After Fiske was gone, Ramsey shook his head. “Beyond all doubt, the man’s a psychopath.”
He turned and looked at Knight. She sat there, staring straight ahead. “Beth, I just want to let you know that you’re welcome to use one of my clerks until you find a replacement for Sara.”
She looked over at him. The offer of a clerk seemed very nice. On the surface. A spy in her camp underneath that surface?
“I’ll be fine. We’ll just have to work harder.”
“You put up a good fight at oral argument today, though I do wish you wouldn’t take it personally. It’s a little unseemly when we bicker back and forth like that in public.”
“How can I not take the cases personally, Harold? Tell me how.” Her eyes were swollen, her voice suddenly hoarse.
“You have to. I never lose sleep over a case. Even a death penalty one. We don’t decide guilt or innocence. We interpret words. You have to think of it in those terms. Otherwise you’ll burn out.”
“Maybe burning out early is a preferable alternative to having a long, distinguished career that only challenges my intellect.” Ramsey glanced sharply at her. “I want to hurt, I want to feel the pain. Everyone else does. Why are we an exception? Dammit, we should be agonizing over these cases.”
Ramsey shook his head sadly. “Then I’m afraid you’ll never endure. And you have to if you want to make a real difference up here.”
“We’ll see. I may surprise you. Starting today.”
“You don’t have a chance of overturning Stanley. But I admire your tenacity, even though it was wasted today.”
“The votes haven’t been counted yet that I recall.”
Ramsey smiled. “Of course, of course. A formality only.” He put his hands in his pockets and stood in front of her. “And just so you know, I also am aware of your plans to reexamine the issue of the rights of the poor — ”
“Harold, we’ve just lost our third clerk. A third human being. One whom I care greatly about. The place is in shambles. I don’t feel like talking about Court business right now. I may never feel like it again, in fact.”
“Beth, we must move on. True, it’s been one crisis after another, but we will persevere.”
“Harold, please!”
Ramsey would not back down. “The court goes on. We — ”
Knight stood up. “Get out.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Get out of my office.”
“Beth — ”
“Get out! Get out!”
Without another word, Ramsey left. Knight stood there for another minute or so. Then she quickly left her office.
* * *
After his confrontation with Ramsey, Fiske entered the Court’s underground garage and went straight to his car. He felt numb. He had gotten Sara fired, was being set up for murdering his brother and had just told off the chief justice of the United States. All in less than an hour. In any realm other than total lunacy, that would be called a bad day. He sat in his car. He had no desire to drive to Richmond and watch McKenna try to put the finishing touches on the destruction of his life.
He pushed his fists against his eye sockets. A groan escaped from him and then he jerked forward as he heard the sound. His eyes widened as he saw Elizabeth Knight tapping on the car window. He rolled it down.
“I would like to talk to you.”
He composed himself as best he could. “What about?”
“Can we go for a short drive? I don’t think I’d risk bringing you back in the building. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Harold quite that upset.”
Fiske thought he saw a trace of a smile on the woman’s face as she said this. “You want to go for a drive in my car?” he asked.
“I don’t have a car here. Is there a problem with yours?”
Fiske looked at her expensive dress. “Well, my car’s interior is basically rust covered with a veneer of grime.”
Knight smiled. “I grew up on a ranch in East Texas. When my family drove to the little shacks that constituted the town we lived near, we did so on a backhoe with me and my six siblings hanging on for dear life and enjoying every minute of it. And I would like to talk to you.”