“That’s normally the case.”
“What do you mean, ‘normally’?”
“I mean there’s no guarantee that things will always be done by the rules.”
Fiske thought about this for a moment. “Are you suggesting that my brother might have taken an appeal before the clerks’ mail room could process it?”
Sara let out a muffled groan but quickly composed herself. “I can only tell you this in confidence, John.”
He shook his head. “I’m not going to promise you something I can’t deliver.”
Sara sighed and in concise sentences told Fiske about finding the papers in his brother’s briefcase. “I didn’t really mean to snoop. But he had been acting strangely, and I was worried about him. I ran into him one morning coming from the clerks’ mail room. He looked really distraught. I think he had just taken the appeal I found in his briefcase.”
“The filing you saw, was it the original or a copy?”
“Original. One of the pages was handwritten, the other typewritten.”
“Are originals normally circulated?”
“No. Only copies. And the copied files certainly don’t have the original envelope the filing came in.”
“I remember Mike telling me that clerks sometimes take home files, even originals sometimes.”
“That’s true.”
“So maybe that was the case here.”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t set up like a normal case file. There was no return address on the envelope, and the typewritten page had no signature at the bottom. The handwritten page made me think it was an in forma pauperis petition, but there was no motion or affidavit of indigency that I could see.”
“Did you see any name on the papers, anything that could identify who was involved?”
“I did. That’s why I knew Michael had taken a filing.”
“How?”
“I managed to glance at the first sentence of the typewritten page. The person identified as the party filing the appeal was named there. As soon as I left Michael’s office I checked the Court’s filing database. There was no one by that name listed.”
“What was the name?”
“The last name was Harms.”
“First name?”
“I didn’t see it.”
“Do you remember anything else?”
“No.”
Fiske eased back in his seat. “The thing is, if Mike took the appeal, he had to be sure that no one would call up about the disappearance of the file. Like the attorney who filed it, if an attorney did.”
“Well, the envelope had a return receipt requested label. The sending party would’ve gotten notice that it was delivered to the Court.”
“Okay. And why one handwritten page and one typewritten page?”
“Two different people. Maybe the person didn’t want to be recognized, but still wanted to help Harms.”
“From all the appeals the Court gets, Mike takes this one. Why?”
She glanced at him nervously. “Oh God, if it turns out that this had anything to do with Michael’s death. I never thought . . .” She suddenly looked as though she would burst into tears.
“I’m not going to tell anyone about this. For now. You took a risk for Mike. I appreciate that.” There was a lengthy silence until Fiske said, “It’s getting late.”
As they drove along, Fiske finally said, “We’ve been able to ascertain that Mike put eight hundred or so miles on his car in the last couple of days. Any idea where he might have gone?”
“No. I don’t think he liked driving. He rode his bike to work.”
“How was he perceived by the other clerks?”
“Highly respected. He was incredibly motivated. I guess all Supreme Court clerks are, but Michael seemed incapable of turning it off. I consider myself a hard worker too, but I think a balance in life is good.”
“Mike was always that way,” Fiske said a little wearily. “He started at perfection and moved up from there.”
“Must run in the family. Michael told me that, growing up, you worked two and three jobs almost all the time.”
“I like to have spending money.”
The money had not remained long in Fiske’s pocket. It had gone to his father, who had never earned more than fifteen lousy grand a year in over forty years of working his ass off. Now it went to his mother and her massive health bills.