While Justice Sleeps(122)
With Coach’s words ringing in his ears, Judge Kenneth Stapleton rejected the complaint on the grounds that Civil Action 2012-1058 had been improperly filed in his office. But, aware of the client of the young attorney who awaited his decision, he immediately kicked it up to the United States Circuit Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia. Signing the paperwork, he glanced bemusedly at the heading, his own head shaking in disbelief.
HOWARD JEFFERSON WYNN,
Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States
Petitioner,
v.
THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA,
Respondent.
Among the judges sitting en banc on Tuesday at the DC Circuit Court, none had played college football. In the three legal minds, though, the varying metaphors resolved themselves into a singular notion of a ticking time bomb and a fatal explosion. Wrestling their collective cowardice into action, they did as anyone would when faced with the ability to pass the grenade.
They concurred with the lower court and chucked Civil Action 2012-1058 off to the very folks who’d benefit or burn from the blast. With a unanimous vote, the complaint to invalidate the stunning resignation of Associate Justice Howard Wynn, by the very legal guardian who’d submitted the same only the afternoon before, went flying down Constitution Avenue to the United States Supreme Court, the court of original jurisdiction in a dispute between a citizen and his country.
And into the lap of Chief Justice Teresa Roseborough.
FIFTY-ONE
Wednesday, June 28
The United States Supreme Court
9:05 a.m.
During the previous September, days before the start of the new term, Justice Howard Wynn had administered the oaths of admission to his law clerks. He’d found it asinine, he told them, to have judicial assistants not permitted to appear before the bench they aided. Thus, Avery Keene had standing to argue before the United States Supreme Court.
The Chief’s injunction against her had been lifted to allow Avery a few moments of privacy in her old office. The entire suite was empty—the secretaries had been idle for the past week, and with today’s highly unusual hearing, they’d been relieved of their daily duties and permitted to view the proceedings.
Avery entered the chambers slowly, her eyes running over the familiar furniture. Behind her, Jared waited in the doorway. Ling and Noah had already gone down to the main level to await the hearing. But she’d wanted Jared to see where his father had done his work for the nation.
“He was always here before even the secretaries,” she murmured as she reached for the closed door to his office. “Justice Wynn read every brief and every case cited by an attorney. Even the citations’ citations.” She motioned for Jared to follow her into Justice Wynn’s carpeted office. Books lined every free surface. Brown volumes with red piping and others in blue and black contained the case law of every federal court in the country.
A number of them were scattered across his worktable, their pages untouched in his absence. Tabs and pens marked pages, and yellow legal pads bore his familiar green scrawl. A scholarly clutter of newspapers and journals leaned drunkenly against shelves and rose in haphazard towers from the carpet. “No one was allowed to clean his office,” she explained with a soft smile.
“Ever?”
“Rumor has it that a secretary attempted to do a cleaning after session several decades ago. He had her transferred to the Commerce Department.”
Jared had a hazy memory of his mother scolding the judge for the state of his office at home. “Mom wouldn’t let him get away with it,” he remembered. “She told him he could be as messy as he wanted to at work, but home was her domain.” He thought of the orderly study they’d searched. “I guess he never forgot.”
They stood side by side in the quiet chambers, and Avery reached out and squeezed Jared’s hand. “Justice Wynn is a hard man, but he was always good. Not kind, no. But good.”
“I suppose that’s something.”
She thought of her mother, lying in a treatment ward in a posh Maryland hospital. “Sometimes, it’s everything.”
Annoyed with himself, Jared exhaled and turned to Avery. “I appreciate you bringing me here, Avery. Showing me something of him.” He studied her, his eyes tracing the fine texture of her skin, the shadow of exhaustion beneath the green eyes. “He made the right choice, turning to you.”
“It’s not done yet.”
“Maybe not, but you’ve done more than he had any right to expect. You’ve brought this full circle. Whatever happens in there, you’ve been his champion. I just want to say thank you.”
She smiled at him, and Jared leaned toward her slowly, giving her time to escape. But Avery held herself still and ready. When his mouth covered hers, she lifted her hands to his shoulders, holding on to the solid strength of him. The kiss stretched beyond time, beyond promise.
Too soon, she let her eyes flutter open, and the pair quietly broke apart. She swallowed once. “Well, that’s something I never expected to happen in this room….”
Jared grinned, and Avery laughed. “I guess it’s showtime,” she said.
* * *
—
The U.S. Supreme Court chamber boasted a forty-four-foot ceiling and twenty-four columns of Siena marble from Liguria, Italy. Avery sat alone at a glossy mahogany table, her foot tapping restlessly on the carpeted floor. Before her stretched the bench, and to the left sat the clerk of court. The marshal of the Court kept time from a desk on the right, flashing white and red lights to hasten the closure of oral argument.