are no confirmation hearings for us, no background checks; the Justices just bring in whomever they want. So now weâre at war and the brass gets antsy, they ask Hoover to send some guys out. See who youâre meeting with.â
The lights are up now. We are totally alone in the balcony. In the theater below a uniformed usher sweeps candy wrappers down the aisle. âYou really think the FBI would be worried about me?â
I didnât intend a comparison, but Gressman evidently perceives one.Something flashes in his eyes. âRight,â he says. âIâm a pinko from Brooklyn, but you. Why would anyone check you out? Maybe they just want to know where you got that suit.â
There is a sharpness in his tone that I cannot account for. âThereâs a man in town,â I say.
âOf course there is.â Whatever it was passes across his face again and is gone. âLook, itâs not you. I expect they watch everyone for a bit. Itâs just that you noticed.â
âMaybe,â I say. âBut would they go in my apartment?â I explain about the footprint.
Gressman considers for a moment. âInteresting.â He taps two fingers on his lips. âI donât know. But then again, how do you know how long the printâs been there? Maybe itâs from months ago.â
I close my eyes, trying to remember. Itâs true; I canât swear I saw the floor clean before. Maybe when the manager carried out that folded mattress . . . âBut what if itâs not?â
âWell, it could be someone else. Lots of people would love to know whatâs going on inside the Court. Thereâs plenty of money to be made if you know how cases are coming out.â
âThere is?â I have a hard time seeing how to turn a profit on Constitutional interpretation.
âSure,â says Gressman. âYou know whatâs going to happen to some corporation, you can trade its stock. The boring business cases, thatâs where the money is. And there have been leaks. Sometimes Drew Pearson predicts results in the paper. Maybe theyâre trying to see if you leave confidential memos in restaurants.â
âIâm very careful with Court papers,â I say.
âLooking for leaks,â he says. âYou know, if thatâs what it is, it might be worth trying to catch them.â
âHow?â
âIâve got an idea. Iâll let you know when I figure it out.â
âOkay.â I pause a moment. âHey, why do you do that thing with the doors?â
âThe welcoming committee? Just to take the starch out. Show you youâre no better than the rest of us.â
âAnd why would I think I was?â
âWhy, indeed?â The bitterness is back. âI can tell you, your pal Haynes took it pretty hard.â
âPhil? Oh, heâs okay.â
âSo you think. I have another tip for you. Figure out who your friends are.â
âPhil Haynes is a good guy.â
âBecause he went to school with you?â
âNo, he didnât. But we know some of the same people.â
âOh, well, in that case.â Gressman shakes his head. âYou may not know him as well as you think.â He claps me on the shoulder and stands up. âCome on. Weâll talk more tomorrow.â
CHAPTER 10
I SIP MY coffee. It is bitter and growing cold, but I find I like it anyway. It helps me stay focused during the cert work, which has grown less terrifying and correspondingly more boring. Still, thereâs a reassuring rhythm, like the repetitive strokes of a squash practice. Reading petition after petition, like hitting shot after shot against the wall, knowing that nothing about them will ever change, but I might slowly grow to better fit that world.
âHave a nice time in Philadelphia?â Phil Haynes is at my door, jaunty in his boater.
âYeah,â I say. âThat was a good idea. But