“I realize you all believe Stewart was killed by someone who knew him. That it was a personal act, not a terrorist act, and that is why I’ve told you this. I very much want you to catch Stewart’s murderer. This information is more than likely a dead end, but I knew I had to tell you anything that might help.”

Ben eyed another brioche but exercised control. “What do you think of Justice Califano’s other two law clerks and his two secretaries, ma’am?”

Justice Xavier-Foxx smiled. “Stewart’s law clerks, like all our law clerks, have their own beliefs, their own biases, their own core values. Sure they’re young, still changing, evolving. You can hear arguments all over the Court. The lunchroom downstairs is a hotbed of controversy, argument, brutal insults. Do our law clerks sway us? Yes, sometimes. Young people are so passionate, so idealistic. It’s difficult to resist them sometimes even when you know they don’t have the ability to grasp the long view, the consequences of a decision.”

Callie asked, “Do you think Justice Sumner Wallace could have behaved inappropriately with my mother?”

Again, Justice Xavier-Foxx was unruffled. “It wouldn’t surprise me. He was always testing. As I said, everyone knows that Sumner has always had a roving eye. He’ll never see himself as too old to follow through when he sees a woman he wants.”

“Do you believe that Justice Wallace and my stepfather were best friends?”

“If Sumner did behave inappropriately with your mother and Stewart found out about it, I would certainly doubt it. However, I hope Sumner managed to hold himself in check with Margaret.” She rose, looked at one, then the other of them. “Both of you are very young. Try to enjoy this special time. Detective, find the person who did this.”

They left a few minutes later beneath a noon-high sun that shone brilliantly on the melting snow. Ben waved to the two federal marshals guarding the residence as he drove through the open gate. He said as he turned onto the highway, “Mr. Foxx stayed close throughout the interview, probably right outside the living room.”

“How do you know that?”

“I smelled his aftershave. Old Spice.”

“I wonder why he didn’t come in, at least to meet us. We could have thanked him for the coffee and those marvelous brioches.”

“Good question. That was well done of you, out of the blue asking her about, well, your stepfather messing around. I confess I never even thought of that.”

“I certainly didn’t get the answer I expected, that’s for sure.”

CHAPTER 14

45 LAWFORD AVENUE N.E.
GEORGETOWN, WASHINGTON, D.C.
SUNDAY MORNING

SAVICH ANDSHERLOCK stood a moment on the icy front steps of Justice Lydia Alto-Thorpe’s house, staring at the recently slammed door. The door was still shuddering.

Sherlock said, “Should I arrest her?”

“For rudeness? For telling us we’re incompetent?”

“That’s a start. Goodness, Dillon, I feel like I’ve been bludgeoned. Can she harangue, or what? She slammed the door right in our faces,” Sherlock said. Then she laughed. “She actually slammed the door in two FBI agents’ faces. Isn’t that a kick?”

“I’m still deciding what it was,” Savich said.

The Justice had opened the door herself and blocked them, even though she knew who they were since they’d called out their names through the closed front door. She stood there, arms crossed over her chest. “Well, what have we here? More reporters?”

Sherlock had given her a sweet smile, pulled out her I.D., flipped it open, and said, “As you see, Justice Alto-Thorpe, we’re FBI agents. May we come in?”

Justice Alto-Thorpe had said out of a mouth so tightly seamed they could barely see it, “This is ridiculous. I’ve already spoken to everyone. I know nothing about any of this except that you’re all incompetent idiots. A madman invaded the Supreme Court of the United States of America and murdered a Supreme Court Justice! This is ludicrous, unforgivable, and disgraceful! You allowed it to happen. All of you should be fired, beginning with the Marshal of the Supreme Court, Alice Halpern. The Attorney General should be shot. The President should resign.”

And that had been only her opening salvo.

They walked back to Savich’s Porsche. Savich waved to the two federal marshals who were sitting in their car across the street. He would swear there was a look of commiseration on their faces.

As they drove away, Sherlock said, “Well, even though I feel bruised all over, and we didn’t learn a single thing except the Justice is extraordinarily pissed off, there is an upside to this.”