Ben said, “Yeah, I hear it’s a great opportunity for all of you.”
Bobby said, “Oh yes, it is. And when I met Justice Alto-Thorpe, I knew it would be a great year. I’m going into litigation, civil litigation in the entertainment industry, and I’m going to live in Malibu.”
Ben Raven saw Tai Curtis and Dennis Palmer exchange looks that clearly said, Can you believe this idiot? Let them keep listening, Ben thought. When he got them each alone, there was no telling what would pop out of their mouths.
“Okay,” Sherlock said, “she’s a bitch because she wouldn’t give you the time of day. Most guys move on, Bobby, they don’t get all hung up on it, don’t insult the woman who rejected them. Did she dislike you because you respected Justice Califano less than Justice Alto-Thorpe?”
He flushed a bit. “The truth is I thought Justice Califano was pompous and overbearing, not at all like Justice Alto-Thorpe. Yeah, sure, Eliza knew what I thought. It’s the truth.” The other three law clerks were frowning, as if embarrassed to be in the same room with him.
Savich glanced over at Dennis Palmer, one of Justice Gutierrez’s law clerks, a stocky young black man with a tough jaw and hard eyes. He was the best dressed of the four of them. He was drinking a can of Heineken, chugging it down. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked at Bobby with something like contempt.
Bobby picked up on it and hurried to say, “Hey, it’s just that Justice Califano and Justice Alto-Thorpe usually disagreed, and I don’t think either of them liked the other very much.”
“How about Justice Bloomberg?” Callie asked, wanting to keep him talking. “How did he and Justice Califano get along?”
Bobby shrugged. “Justice Bloomberg isn’t much of a talker. He sort of sits there like a big Buddha. Usually when court is in session, he nods maybe once an hour, says very little. However, he always votes with Justice Alto-Thorpe, and that’s the right way, the just way.”
Dennis Palmer said in a beautiful, deep voice, a voice that would very likely help him win over juries in the future, “Bobby’s mainly right about Justice Bloomberg. But the fact is, he’s the most junior Justice. That means he’s the one who has to take all the notes, keep the records of all the proceedings. He doesn’t have time to ask the lawyers questions. He’s a deeply religious man, I do know that, but I’ve never seen him make any waves about it. As for my Justice—Justice Gutierrez—he and Justice Califano agreed a lot more often than they disagreed. They got along well. Actually, truth be told, the only Justice my Justice really didn’t care for was Justice Alto-Thorpe, but of course he’d never say anything bad about anyone. Face it, Bobby, you suck up to her, you never see anything but what you want to see.”
Bobby looked pissed off, but also resigned. “That’s not true. You’re all ganging up on me.”
Sonya McGivens said, “We’re not ganging up on you. Fact is you do suck up to her. If you saw her walking toward the bathroom, you’d probably rush down the hall in front of her to open the door. The stall door, too.”
“She has her own bathroom, like all the Justices,” said Bobby.
What he’d said was so absurd that the law clerks started shaking their heads and laughing. Sonya McGivens was laughing so hard she was holding her belly. She was hiccuping when she said, “I saw you once, following her, nearly into the bathroom, and yeah, you did open the door for her.”
Bobby paused a moment, then said, frowning, “I wondered why she didn’t use her own private bathroom.”
The laughter grew louder.
Bobby looked like he wanted to hurl all of them out the front window, Sherlock thought, except it wouldn’t be possible; it looked painted shut. “You’re all laughing at me. Why the hell did all of you come over here today to drink my beer and scarf my pizza?”
“You begged us to come,” Tai Curtis said. “Look, we’ve got to straighten up here. We apologize, Bobby. Now, guys, Danny’s dead, and these agents didn’t come here to listen to us laughing about bathrooms.”
Sherlock nodded to Tai. It was time to bring things back on track. “Let’s continue, then. Now, Bobby, you spoke to Eliza, she blew you off, and you ran out. But you didn’t remind her about the Friday meeting?”
“No, I guess I didn’t,” Bobby said, looking down at his banged-up Nikes. “I was upset at her, I’ll admit it.”
“Stop being a masochist, Bobby,” Sonya said, not unkindly. “Stop asking her out. Eliza could eat you for breakfast.”