jg.thepelicanbrief-第2部分

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ious　occasion。　The　Chief　would　have　to　wear　black　and　give　a　eulogy；　but　behind　locked　doors　he　would　chuckle　with　his　law　clerks。　Runyan　liked　this　thought。
　　
　　〃What　do　you　suggest？〃　he　asked。
　　
　　〃Can　you　talk　to　him？〃
　　
　　I've　tried。　I've　explained　to　him　that　he　is　probably　the　most　hated　man　in　America；　that　millions　of　people　curse　him　every　day；　that　most　folks　would　like　to　see　him　dead；　that　he　receives　four　times　the　hate　mail　as　the　rest　of　us　bined；　and　that　he　would　be　a　perfect　and　easy　target　for　assassination。〃　
　　
　　Lewis　waited。　〃And？〃
　　
　　〃Told　me　to　kiss　his　ass；　then　fell　asleep。〃　
　　
　　The　law　clerks　giggled　properly；　then　the　FBI　agents　realized　humor　was　permitted　and　joined　in　for　a　quick　laugh。
　　
　　〃So　what　do　we　do？〃　asked　Lewis；　unamused。
　　
　　〃You　protect　him　as　best　you　can；　put　it　in　writing；　and　don't　worry　about　it。　He　fears　nothing；　including　death；　and　if　he's　not　sweating　it；　why　should　you？〃
　　
　　〃The　Director　is　sweating；　so　I'm　sweating；　Chief。　It's　very　simple。　If　one　of　you　guys　gets　hurt；　the　Bureau　looks　bad。〃　
　　
　　The　Chief　rocked　quickly　in　his　chair。　The　racket　from　outside　was　unnerving。　This　meeting　had　dragged　on　long　enough。　〃Forget　Rosenberg。　Maybe　he'll　die　in　his　sleep。　I'm　more　concerned　over　Jensen。〃
　　
　　〃Jensen's　a　problem；〃　Lewis　said；　flipping　pages。
　　
　　〃I　know　he's　a　problem；〃　Runyan　said　slowly。　〃He's　an　embarrassment。　Now　he　thinks　he's　a　liberal。　Votes　like　Rosenberg　half　the　time。　Next　month；　he'll　be　a　white　supremacist　and　support　segregated　schools。　Then　he'll　fall　in　love　with　the　Indians　and　want　to　give　them　Montana。　It's　like　having　a　retarded　child。〃
　　
　　〃He's　being　treated　for　depression；　you　know。〃
　　
　　〃I　know；　I　know。　He　tells　me　about　it。　I'm　his　father　figure。　What　drug？〃
　　
　　〃Prozac。〃　
　　
　　The　Chief　dug　under　his　fingernails。　〃What　about　that　aerobics　instructor　he　was　seeing？　She　still　around？〃
　　
　　〃Not　really；　Chief。　I　don't　think　he　cares　for　women。〃　Lewis　was　smug。　He　knew　more。　He　glanced　at　one　of　his　agents　and　confirmed　this　juicy　little　tidbit。　
　　
　　Runyan　ignored　it；　didn't　want　to　hear　it。　〃Is　he　cooperating？〃
　　
　　〃Of　course　not。　In　many　ways　he's　worse　than　Rosenberg。　He　allows　us　to　escort　him　to　his　apartment　building；　then　makes　us　sit　in　the　parking　lot　all　night。　He's　seven　floors　up；　remember。　We　can't　even　sit　in　the　lobby。　Might　upset　his　neighbors；　he　says。　So　we　sit　in　the　car。　There　are　ten　ways　in　and　out　of　the　building；　and　it's　impossible　to　protect　him。　He　likes　to　play　hide…and…seek　with　us。　He　sneaks　around　all　the　time；　so　we　never　know　if　he's　in　the　building　or　not。　At　least　with　Rosenberg　we　know　where　he　is　all　night。　Jensen's　impossible。〃
　　
　　〃Great。　If　you　can't　follow　him；　how　could　an　assassin？〃　
　　
　　Lewis　hadn't　thought　of　this。　He　missed　the　humor。　〃The　Director　is　very　concerned　with　Justice　Jensen's　safety。〃
　　
　　〃He　doesn't　receive　that　many　threats。〃
　　
　　〃Number　six　on　the　list；　just　a　few　less　than　you；　your　honor。〃
　　
　　〃Oh。　So　I'm　in　fifth　place。〃
　　
　　〃Yes。　Just　behind　Justice　Manning。　He's　cooperating；　by　the　way。　Fully。〃
　　
　　〃He's　afraid　of　his　shadow；〃　the　Chief　said；　then　hesitated。　〃I　shouldn't　have　said　that。　I'm　sorry。〃　
　　
　　Lewis　ignored　it。　〃In　fact；　the　cooperation　has　been　reasonably　good；　except　for　Rosenberg　and　Jensen。　Justice　Stone　bitches　a　lot；　but　he　listens　to　us。〃
　　
　　〃He　bitches　at　everyone；　so　don't　take　it　personally。　Where　do　you　suppose　Jensen　sneaks　off　to？〃　
　　
　　Lewis　glanced　at　one　of　his　agents。　〃We　have　no　idea。〃　A　large　section　of　the　mob　suddenly　came　together　in　one　unrestrained　chorus；　and　everyone　on　the　streets　seemed　to　join　in。　The　Chief　could　not　ignore　it。　The　windows　vibrated。　He　stood　and　called　an　end　to　this　meeting。　
　　
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　　JUSTICE　GLENN　JENSEN'S　OFFICE　was　on　the　second　floor；　away　from　the　streets　and　the　noise。　It　was　a　spacious　room；　yet　the　smallest　of　the　nine。　Jensen　was　the　youngest　of　the　nine；　and　he　was　lucky　to　have　an　office。　When　nominated　six　years　earlier　at　the　age　of　forty…two；　he　was　thought　to　be　a　strict　constructionist　with　deep　conservative　beliefs；　much　like　the　man　who　nominated　him。　His　Senate　confirmation　had　been　a　slugfest。　Before　the　Judiciary　mittee；　Jensen　performed　poorly。　On　sensitive　issues　he　straddled　the　fence；　and　got　kicked　from　both　sides。　The　Republicans　were　embarrassed。　The　Democrats　smelled　blood。　The　President　twisted　arms　until　they　broke；　and　Jensen　was　confirmed　by　one　very　reluctant　vote。　
　　
　　But　he　made　it；　for　life。　In　his　six　years；　he　had　pleased　no　one。　Hurt　deeply　by　his　confirmation　hearings；　he　vowed　to　find　passion　and　rule　with　it。　This　had　angered　Republicans。　They　felt　betrayed；　especially　when　he　discovered　a　latent　passion　for　the　rights　of　criminals。　With　scarce　ideological　strain；　he　quickly　left　the　right；　moved　to　the　center；　then　to　the　left。　Then；　with　legal　scholars　scratching　their　little　goatees；　Jensen　would　bolt　back　to　the　right　and　join　Justice　Sloan　in　one　of　his　obnoxious　antiwomen　dissents。　Jensen　was　not　fond　of　women。　He　was　neutral　on　prayer；　skeptical　of　free　speech；　sympathetic　to　tax　protestors；　indifferent　to　Indians；　afraid　of　blacks；　tough　on　pornographers；　soft　on　criminals；　and　fairly　consistent　in　his　protection　of　the　environment。　And；　to　the　further　dismay　of　the　Republicans　who　shed　blood　to　get　him　confirmed；　Jensen　had　shown　a　troubling　sympathy　for　the　rights　of　homosexuals。　
　　
　　At　his　request；　a　nasty　case　called　Dumond　had　been　assigned　to　him。　Ronald　Dumond　had　lived　with　his　male　lover　for　eight　years。　They　were　a　happy　couple；　totally　devoted　to　each　other；　and　quite　content　to　share　life's　experiences。　They　wanted　to　marry；　but　Ohio　laws　prohibited　such　a　union。　Then　the　lover　caught　AIDS；　and　died　a　horrible　death。　Ronald　knew　exactly　how　to　bury　him；　but　then　the　lover's　family　intervened　and　excluded　Ronald　from　the　funeral　and　burial。　Distraught；　Ronald　sued　the　family；　claiming　emotional　and　psychological　damage。　The　case　had　bounced　around　the　lower　courts　for　six　years；　and　now　had　suddenly　found　itself　sitting　on　Jensen's　desk。　
　　
　　At　issue　was　the　rights　of　spouses　of　gays。　Dumond　had　bee　a　battle　cry　for　gay　activists。　The　mere　mention　of　Dumond　had　caused　street　fights。　
　　
　　And　Jensen　had　the　case。　The　door　to　his　smaller　office　was　closed。　Jensen　and　his　three　clerks　sat　around　the　conference　table。　They　had　spent　two　hours　on　Dumond；　and　gone　nowhere。　They　were　tired　of　arguing。　One　clerk；　a　liberal　from　Cornell；　wanted　a　broad　pronouncement　granting　sweeping　rights　to　gay　partners。　Jensen　wanted　this　too；　but　was　not　ready　to　admit　it。　The　other　two　clerks　were　skeptical。　They　knew；　as　did　Jensen；　that　a　majority　of　five　would　be　impossible。　
　　
　　Talk　turned　to　other　matters。
　　
　　〃The　Chiefs　ticked　off　at　you；　Glenn；〃　said　the　clerk　from　Duke。　They　called　him　by　his　first　name　in　chambers。　〃Justice〃　was　such　an　awkward　title。　
　　
　　Glenn　rubbed　his　eyes。　〃What　else　is　new？〃
　　
　　〃One　of　his　clerks　wanted　me　to　know　that　the　Chief　and　the　FBI　are　worried　about　your　safety。　Says　you're　not　cooperating；　and　the　Chiefs　rather　disturbed。　He　wanted　me　to　pass　it　along。〃　Everything　was　passed　along　through　the　clerks'　network。　Everything。
　　
　　〃He's　supposed　to　be　worried。　That's　his　job。〃
　　
　　〃He　wants　to　assign　two　more　Fibbies　as　bodyguards；　and　they　want　access　to　your　apartment。　And　the　FBI　wants　to　drive　you　to　and　from　work。　And　they　want　to　restrict　your　travel。〃
　　
　　〃I've　already　heard　this。〃
　　
　　〃Yeah；　we　know。　But　the　Chiefs　clerk　said　the　Chief　wants　us　to　prevail　upon　you　to　cooperate　with　the　FBI　so　that　they　can　save　your　life。〃
　　
　　〃I　see。〃
　　
　　〃And　so　we're　just　prevailing　upon　you。〃
　　
　　〃Thanks。　Go　back　to　the　network　and　tell　the　Chiefs　clerk　that　you　not　only　prevailed　upon　me　but　you　raised　all　sorts　of　hell　with　me　and　that　I　appreciated　all　of　your　prevailing　and　hell…raising；　but　it　went　in　one　ear　and　out　the　other。　Tell　them　Glenn　considers　himself　a　big　boy。〃
　　
　　〃Sure；　Glenn。　You're　not　afraid；　are　you？〃
　　
　　〃Not　in　the　least。〃　
　　
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　　HOMAS　CALLAHAN　was　one　of　Tulane's　more　popular　professors；　primarily　because　he　refused　to　schedule　classes　before　11　A。M。　He　drank　a　lot；　as　did　most　of　his　students；　and　for　him　the　first　few　hours　of　each　morning　were　needed　for　sleep；　then　resuscitation。　Nine　and　ten　o'clock　classes　were　abominations。　He　was　also　popular　because　he　was　coolfaded　jeans；　tweed　jackets　with　well…worn　elbow　patches；　no　socks；　no　ties。　The　liberal…chic…academic　look。　He　was　forty…five；　but　with　dark　hair　and　horn…rimmed　glasses　he　could　pass　for　thirty…five；　not　that　he　gave　a　damn　how　old　he　looked。　He　shaved　once　a　week；　when　it　started　itching；　and　when　the　weather　was　cool；　which　was　seldom　in　New　Orleans；　he　would　grow　a　beard。　He　had　a　history　of　closeness　with　female　students。　
　　
　　He　was　also　popular　because　he　taught　constitutional　law；　a　most　unpopular　course　but　a　required　one。　Due　to　his　sheer　brilliance　and　coolness　he　actually　made　con　law　interesting。　No　one　else　at　Tulane　could　do　this。　No　one　wanted　to；　really；　so　the　students　fought　to　sit　in　con　law　under　Callahan　at　eleven；　three　mornings　a　week。
　　
　　Eighty　of　them　sat　behind　six　elevated　rows　and　whispered　as　Callahan　stood　in　front　of　his　desk　and　cleaned　his　glasses。　It　was　exactly　five　after　eleven；　still　too　early；　he　thought。
　　
　　〃Who　understands　Rosenberg's　dissent　in　Nash　v。　New　Jersey？〃　All　heads　lowered　and　the　room　was　silent。　Must　be　a　bad　hangover。　His　eyes　were　red。　When　he　started　with　Rosenberg　it　usually　meant　a　rough　lecture。　No　one　volunteered。　Nash？　Callahan　looked　slowly；　methodically　around　the　room；　and　waited。　Dead　silence。　
　　
　　The　doorknob　clicked　loudly　and　broke　the　tension。　The　door　opened　quickly　and　an　attractive　young　female　in　tight　washed　jeans　and　a　cotton　sweater　slid　elegantly　through　it　and　sort　of　glided　along　the　wall　to　the　third