Free The Tenth Justice by Brad Meltzer Page B

Guile,” Ben and Ober said simultaneously.
    “That was it,” Ober said. “It was this super-intense strategy game. It had everything: pawns, bluffing, power moves, everything a good game should have.”
    “And what happened?”
    “Everyone hated it,” Ober said. “They said it was too boring. After a year and a half, we were out of business, and I went through an illustrious sampling of the lower-tier job market. In three years, I was everything from a house painter to a marketing aide to a public relations assistant.”
    “If you’re such a failure, how’d you get the job in the Senate?”
    “That was all Ben,” Ober said. “When he heard there was an opening in Senator Stevens’s office, he wrote me a cover letter, put together my résumé so it sounded super-political, and prepped me for the interview. A week later, I got the job. And the rest is congressional history.”
    “So how do you tell if dice are fixed?” Lisa asked.
    “I’m not telling you,” Ober said. “Start your own game company.”
    Rolling her eyes, Lisa turned back to Ben. “So you went to law school, Eric went to grad school, and bizarro here played with his dice. What’d Nathan do before he joined the public sector?”
    “He was a Fulbright scholar, so after college, he spent two years at Tokyo University studying international trade. After that, he worked for a Japanese high-tech company in their foreign markets department. Then he came back to the States and started working his way up the State Department ladder. My guess is he’ll—” Ben broke off as Nathan came in.
    “Speak of the devil,” Lisa said. “It’s Nathan-san himself.”
    “Well?” Ben asked anxiously as soon as Nathan walked in the door.
    “Nothing,” Nathan said, throwing a thick file folder to Ben. “They found four hundred fifty-seven Richard Fagens. Only twelve matched the age and physical description, and only two had criminal records. Neither of them had any type of legal background, and both were still incarcerated. I called the research center, and they said that Rick was probably using an alias. Until we find his real name, we’ll never find him.”
    “Shit,” Ben said, flipping through the useless documents.
    “By the way,” Nathan said to Ober, “they ran a check on Senator Stevens’s signature, and it cleared as genuine. I thought you used the signature machine.”
    “I did,” Ober said proudly. “I just bumped my butt against it while it was signing. It’s the best way to make the signature look real.”
    “Good show,” Nathan said, impressed.
    “I have my moments,” Ober said, looking back at his feet.
    Watching Ben nervously look through the documents, Lisa turned to him. “Don’t get yourself crazy. That doesn’t mean we’re done.”
    “We still haven’t heard from Eric,” Nathan added. “Hopefully, he’ll have some information on the building.”
    At a quarter after ten, Eric returned home. Ben, Lisa, Nathan, and Ober were all watching television, trying to pass the time. “What took you so long?” Ben asked, pointing the remote and shutting off the TV.
    “I’m only fifteen minutes late. I had to finish editing a story,” Eric explained. “Do we have anything to eat?”
    “Did you find anything on the building?” Nathan asked as Eric headed toward the kitchen.
    “Oh, yeah,” Eric said, turning back toward the living room. “I almost forgot. Seventeen eighty Rhode Island is not a good place. I asked some of the beat guys what the story was, and they said it’s pretty sleazy.”
    “It smelled pretty sleazy,” Nathan said.
    “It’s owned by a guy named Mickey Strauss,” Eric explained. “Mickey is slime. Two years ago, they found two guys shot dead in there. Last year, there was this huge drug ring operating out of the place, but Mickey said he never knew anything about it. The guys at the office said that if a Mack truck came barreling through his office and straight across his desk, Mickey would