jg.thepelicanbrief-第10部分

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threats。　Some　Jewish　lawyers　in　a　big　New　York　firm　filed　all　sorts　of　appeals；　and　in　1984　the　case　arrives　at　the　Supreme　Court。　You　guessed　it：　Rosenberg　falls　in　love　with　Tyrone　and　concocts　this　ridiculous　Fifth　Amendment　self…incrimination　argument　to　exclude　a　confession　the　punk　gave　a　week　after　he　was　arrested。　An　eight…page　confession　that　he；　Tyrone；　wrote　himself。　No　confession；　no　case。　Rosenberg　writes　a　convoluted　five…to…four　opinion　overturning　the　conviction。　An　extremely　controversial　decision。　Tyrone　goes　free。　Then；　two　years　later　he　disappears　and　has　not　been　seen　since。　Rumor　has　it　Muncie　paid　to　have　Tyrone　castrated；　mutilated；　and　fed　to　the　sharks。　Just　a　rumor；　say　the　Florida　authorities。　Then　in　1989；　Tyrone's　main　lawyer　on　the　case；　man　named　Kaplan；　is　gunned　down　by　an　apparent　mugger　outside　his　apartment　in　Manhattan。　What　a　coincidence。〃
　　
　　〃Who　tipped　you？〃
　　
　　〃Florida　called　two　hours　ago。　They're　convinced　Muncie　paid　a　bunch　of　money　to　eliminate　both　Tyrone　and　his　lawyer。　They　just　can't　prove　it。　They've　got　a　reluctant；　unidentified　informant　who　says　he　knows　Muncie　and　feeds　them　a　little　info。　He　says　Muncie　has　been　talking　for　years　about　eliminating　Rosenberg。　They　think　he　went　a　little　over　the　edge　when　his　niece　was　murdered。〃
　　
　　〃How　much　money　has　he　got？〃
　　
　　〃Enough。　Millions。　No　one　is　sure。　He's　very　secretive。　Florida　is　convinced　he's　capable。〃
　　
　　〃Let's　check　it　out。　Sounds　interesting。〃
　　
　　〃I'll　get　on　it　tonight。　Are　you　sure　you　want　three　hundred　agents　on　this　case？〃　
　　
　　Voyles　lit　a　cigar　and　cracked　his　window。　〃Yeah；　maybe　four　hundred。　We　need　to　crack　this　baby　before　the　press　eats　us　alive。〃
　　
　　〃It　won't　be　easy。　Except　for　the　slugs　and　the　rope；　these　guys　left　nothing。〃　
　　
　　Voyles　blew　smoke　out　the　window。　〃I　know。　It's　almost　too　clean。〃　
　　
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　　HE　CHIEF　slouched　behind　his　desk　with　a　loosened　tie　and　a　haggard　look。　Around　the　room；　three　of　his　brethren　and　a　half…dozen　clerks　sat　and　talked　in　subdued　tones。　The　shock　and　fatigue　were　evident。　Jason　Kline；　Rosenberg's　senior　clerk；　looked　especially　hard…hit。　He　sat　on　a　small　sofa　and　stared　blankly　at　the　floor　while　Justice　Archibald　Manning；　now　the　senior　Justice；　talked　of　protocol　and　funerals。　Jensen's　mother　wanted　a　small；　private　Episcopal　service　Friday　in　Providence。　Rosenberg's　son；　a　lawyer；　had　delivered　to　Runyan　a　list　of　instructions　the　Justice　had　prepared　after　his　second　stroke　in　which　he　wanted　to　be　cremated　after　a　non…military　ceremony　and　his　ashes　dropped　over　the　Sioux　Indian　Reservation　in　South　Dakota。　Though　Rosenberg　was　Jewish；　he　had　abandoned　the　religion　and　claimed　to　be　agnostic。　He　wanted　to　be　buried　with　the　Indians。　Runyan　thought　that　was　appropriate；　but　did　not　say　so。　In　the　outer　office；　six　FBI　agents　sipped　coffee　and　whispered　nervously。　There　had　been　more　threats　during　the　day；　several　ing　within　hours　of　the　President's　early　morning　address。　It　was　dark　now；　almost　time　to　escort　the　remaining　justices　home。　Each　had　four　agents　as　bodyguards。　
　　
　　Justice　Andrew　McDowell；　at　sixty…one　now　the　youngest　member　of　the　Court；　stood　in　the　window；　smoking　his　pipe　and　watching　traffic。　If　Jensen　had　a　friend　on　the　Court；　it　was　McDowell。　Fletcher　Coal　had　informed　Runyan　that　the　President　would　not　only　attend　Jensen's　service　but　wanted　to　deliver　a　eulogy。　No　one　in　the　inner　office　wanted　the　President　to　say　a　word。　The　Chief　had　asked　McDowell　to　prepare　a　few　words。　A　shy　man　who　avoided　speeches；　McDowell　twirled　his　bow　tie　and　tried　to　picture　his　friend　in　the　balcony　with　a　rope　around　his　neck。　It　was　too　awful　to　think　about。　A　Justice　of　the　Supreme　Court；　one　of　his　distinguished　brethren；　one　of　the　nine；　hiding　in　such　a　place　watching　those　movies　and　being　exposed　in　such　a　ghastly　manner。　What　a　tragic　embarrassment。　He　thought　of　himself　standing　before　the　crowd　in　the　church　and　looking　at　Jensen's　mother　and　family；　and　knowing　that　every　thought　would　be　on　the　Montrose　Theatre。　They　would　ask　each　other　in　whispered　voices；　〃Did　you　know　he　was　gay？〃　McDowell；　for　one；　did　not　know；　nor　did　he　suspect。　Nor　did　he　want　to　say　anything　at　the　funeral。　
　　
　　Justice　Ben　Thurow；　age　sixty…eight；　was　not　as　concerned　about　burying　the　dead　as　he　was　about　catching　the　killers。　He　had　been　a　federal　prosecutor　in　Minnesota；　and　his　theory　grouped　the　suspects　into　two　classes：　those　acting　out　of　hatred　and　revenge；　and　those　seeking　to　affect　future　decisions。　He　had　instructed　his　clerks　to　begin　the　research。　
　　
　　Thurow　was　pacing　around　the　room。　〃We　have　twenty…seven　clerks　and　seven　justices；〃　he　said　to　the　group　but　to　no　one　in　particular。　〃It's　obvious　we　won't　get　much　work　done　for　the　next　couple　of　weeks；　and　all　close　decisions　must　wait　until　we　have　a　full　bench。　That　could　take　months。　I　suggest　we　put　our　clerks　to　work　trying　to　solve　the　killings。〃
　　
　　
　　〃We're　not　police；〃　Manning　said　patiently。
　　
　　〃Can　we　at　least　wait　until　after　the　burials　before　we　start　playing　Dick　Tracy？〃　McDowell　said　without　turning　from　the　window。　
　　
　　Thurow　ignored　them；　as　usual。　〃I'll　direct　the　research。　Loan　me　your　clerks　for　two　weeks；　and　I　think　we　can　put　together　a　short　list　of　solid　suspects。〃
　　
　　〃The　FBI　is　very　capable；　Ben；〃　the　Chief　said。　〃They　haven't　asked　for　our　help。〃
　　
　　〃I'd　rather　not　discuss　the　FBI；〃　Thurow　said。　〃We　can　mope　around　here　in　official　mourning　for　two　weeks；　or　we　can　go　to　work　and　find　these　bastards。〃
　　
　　〃What　makes　you　so　sure　you　can　solve　this？〃　Manning　asked。
　　
　　〃I'm　not　sure　I　can；　but　I　think　it's　worth　a　try。　Our　brethren　were　murdered　for　a　reason；　and　that　reason　is　directly　related　to　a　case　or　an　issue　already　decided　or　now　pending　before　this　Court。　If　it's　retribution；　then　our　task　is　almost　impossible。　Hell；　everybody　hates　us　for　one　reason　or　another。　But　if　it's　not　revenge　or　hatred；　then　perhaps　someone　wanted　a　different　Court　for　a　future　decision。　That's　what's　intriguing。　Who　would　kill　Abe　and　Glenn　because　of　how　they　might　vote　on　a　case　this　year；　next　year；　or　five　years　from　now？　I　want　the　clerks　to　pull　up　every　case　now　pending　in　the　eleven　circuits　below。〃　
　　
　　Justice　McDowell　shook　his　head。　〃e　on；　Ben。　That's　over　five　thousand　cases；　a　small　fraction　of　which　will　eventually　end　up　here。　It's　a　wild…goose　chase。〃　
　　
　　Manning　was　equally　unimpressed。　〃Listen；　fellas。　I　served　with　Abe　Rosenberg　for　thirty…one　years；　and　I　often　thought　of　shooting　him　myself。　But　I　loved　him　like　a　brother。　His　liberal　ideas　were　accepted　in　the　sixties　and　seventies；　but　grew　old　in　the　eighties；　and　are　now　resented　in　the　nineties。　He　became　a　symbol　for　everything　that's　wrong　in　this　country。　He　has　been　killed；　I　believe；　by　one　of　these　radical　right…wing　hate　groups；　and　we　can　research　cases　till　hell　freezes　over　and　not　find　anything。　It's　retribution；　Ben。　Pure　and　simple。〃
　　
　　〃And　Glenn？〃　Thurow　asked。
　　
　　〃Evidently　our　friend　had　some　strange　proclivities。　Word　must　have　spread；　and　he　was　an　easy　target　for　such　groups。　They　hate　homosexuals；　Ben。〃　
　　
　　Ben　was　still　pacing；　still　ignoring。　〃They　hate　all　of　us；　and　if　they　killed　out　of　hatred　the　cops'll　catch　them。　Maybe。　But　what　if　they　killed　to　manipulate　this　Court？　What　if　some　group　seized　this　moment　of　unrest　and　violence　to　eliminate　two　of　us；　and　thus　realign　the　Court？　I　think　it's　very　possible。〃　
　　
　　The　Chief　cleared　his　throat。　〃And　I　think　we'll　do　nothing　until　after　they　are　buried；　or　scattered。　I'm　not　saying　no；　Ben；　just　wait　a　few　days。　Let　the　dust　settle。　The　rest　of　us　are　still　in　shock。〃　
　　
　　Thurow　excused　himself　and　left　the　room。　His　bodyguards　followed　him　down　the　hall。　
　　
　　Justice　Manning　stood　with　his　cane　and　addressed　the　Chief。　〃I　will　not　make　it　to　Providence。　I　hate　flying；　and　I　hate　funerals。　I'll　be　having　one　myself　before　long；　and　I　do　not　enjoy　the　reminder。　I'll　send　my　sympathies　to　the　family。　When　you　see　them；　please　apologize　for　me。　I'm　a　very　old　man。〃　He　left　with　a　clerk。
　　
　　〃I　think　Justice　Thurow　has　a　point；〃　said　Jason　Kline。　〃We　at　least　need　to　review　the　pending　cases　and　those　likely　to　arrive　here　from　the　lower　circuits。　It's　a　long　shot；　but　we　may　stumble　across　something。〃
　　
　　I　agree；〃　said　the　Chief。　〃It's　just　a　bit　premature；　don't　you　think？〃
　　
　　〃Yes；　but　I'd　like　to　get　started　anyway。〃
　　
　　〃No。　Wait　till　Monday；　and　I'll　assign　you　to　Thurow。〃　
　　
　　Kline　shrugged　and　excused　himself。　Two　clerks　followed　him　to　Rosenberg's　office；　where　they　sat　in　the　darkness　and　sipped　the　last　of　Abe's　brandy。　
　　
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　　IN　A　CLUTTERED　STUDY　CARREL　on　the　fifth　level　of　the　law　library；　between　the　racks　of　thick；　seldom…used　law　books；　Darby　Shaw　scanned　a　printout　of　the　Supreme　Court's　docket。　She　had　been　through　it　twice；　and　though　it　was　loaded　with　controversy；　she　found　nothing　that　interested　her。　Dumond　was　causing　riots。　There　was　a　child　pornography　case　from　New　Jersey；　a　sodomy　case　from　Kentucky；　a　dozen　death　penalty　appeals；　a　dozen　assorted　civil　rights　cases；　and　the　usual　array　of　tax；　zoning；　Indian；　and　antitrust　cases。　From　the　puter　she　had　pulled　summaries　of　each；　then　reviewed　them　twice。　She　piled　a　neat　list　of　possible　suspects；　but　they　would　be　obvious　to　everyone。　The　list　was　now　in　the　garbage。　
　　
　　Callahan　was　certain　it　was　the　Aryans　or　the　Nazis　or　the　Klan；　some　easily　identifiable　collection　of　domestic　terrorists；　some　radical　band　of　vigilantes。　It　had　to　be　right…wingers；　that　much　was　obvious；　he　felt。　Darby　was　not　so　sure。　The　hate　groups　were　too　obvious。　They　had　made　too　many　threats；　thrown　too　many　rocks；　held　too　many　parades；　made　too　many　speeches。　They　needed　Rosenberg　alive　because　he　was　such　an　irresistible　target　for　their　hatred。　Rosenberg　kept　them　in　business。　She　thought　it　was　somebody　much　more　sinister。　
　　
　　He　was　sitting　in　a　bar　on　Canal　Street；　drunk　by　now；