Moss stopped smiling. “I have a problem, and you’re the only person I can think of who can help me.”

Brad sat up straight. “Anything I can do, just ask.”

“Don’t commit yourself until you hear what I want you to do. It’s…” Moss paused. “Irregular. No, more than irregular. If someone discovers what we’re up to, it could lead to some very unpleasant consequences for both of us. If you tell me you don’t want to do it, I’ll respect your decision, and I’ll forget this conversation even took place.”

“Now you’re making me nervous,” Brad said.

“When I told the FBI that there was no case I could think of that could have triggered last night’s attack, I wasn’t being completely honest. Millard Price’s reaction in conference to Woodruff v. Oregon was very unusual. And you’ve told me that two of his clerks told you that I upset Millard by the way I acted in conference and tried to pump you for information on how I’m going to vote.” Justice Moss paused. “Brad, I think there’s a possibility that the attack on me and the Woodruff case are connected.”

“You think Justice Price is trying to kill you?” Brad asked incredulously.

“No. But his reactions were so odd that…” Moss shook her head. “There’s something about that case that’s upsetting him, and I can’t understand what it could be.”

“Why didn’t you tell Keith Evans about your suspicions?”

“What goes on in conference is sacrosanct. I would make an exception if I had evidence that the case was the reason I was attacked, but I don’t have one scintilla of proof. I just have a feeling. That’s why I need your help. I need to know if there’s any hard evidence to support my suspicions.”

“I still don’t know what you want me to do,” Brad said.

“We justices are prohibited from going outside the record in a case when we’re deciding the legal issues it presents, but I can’t help thinking that Millard may have some connection to the Woodruff case that he hasn’t disclosed. I need an investigator to find out if such a connection exists and, if it does, what it is.”

Brad frowned. “You want me to go to Oregon and play private eye?”

“No, of course not. You’d be missed instantly. Besides, I can’t afford to be short a clerk. Last night, when I was talking to Roy, he reminded me that your friend, Dana Cutler, was working as a private detective when the Farrington affair broke.”

Even though they were friends, the mention of Dana Cutler made Brad shiver. Brad liked Dana, but he’d led a sheltered life before getting involved in the Farrington affair, and he wasn’t used to associating with people as potentially violent as he knew Dana could be. While working as an associate in an Oregon law firm, Brad had been assigned a hopeless pro bono appeal for a convicted serial killer and had stumbled onto evidence that linked President Farrington to the murder of several women. Simultaneously, in Washington, D.C., Dana had drawn similar conclusions when she discovered a link between the president and a murdered college student. When they’d finally hooked up in Portland, Dana had forced Brad into a situation that almost cost him his life.

“Is Miss Cutler still a private investigator?” Justice Moss asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you think she would look into any possible connection between Millard and the Woodruff case?”

“I can ask.”

“I’ll take care of her fee and expenses, but she can’t tell anyone who is employing her.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” Brad paused. “Willie and Kyle told me that you did something specific that upset Justice Price. Do you feel that you can tell me what happened between you two? Dana is going to want to know.”

“As you know, it takes four votes to grant cert. Oliver Bates, Kenneth Mazzorelli, and Millard spoke out against bringing Woodruff up here. Lucius Jackson usually votes with Ken, and Frank Alcott is more conservative than anyone on the Court. Mary David and Warren Martinez made it pretty clear that they want Woodruff heard. I’m leaning their way. Ron Chalmers was going to vote to grant cert. So there were only two sure votes for cert after Ron stepped down, and my vote wouldn’t have been enough.

“As soon as Ron Chalmers left the room after telling us he was going to resign, Millard tried to force a vote on Woodruff. I told him I wasn’t sure how I was going to vote, and I precipitated a vote to defer. I’m responsible for cert still being a possibility in the case. Now it all depends on how Ron’s replacement votes.”

“You told Keith Evans that people don’t kill justices of the Supreme Court to keep cases from being heard.”

“I hope I’m right.”

“And, from what you’re telling me, even if cert was granted, the petitioner would probably lose five to four.”

“That’s true. And all this could be the work of an old woman’s overactive imagination, but it’s the only unusual thing that’s happened in connection with a case, and it’s got me worried.”

“If Dana agrees to help, what do you want her to do?”

“I think she’ll have to go to Oregon and find out as much as she can about what really happened there, and whether Millard had a connection to any of it.”

“I’ll see if Dana can meet with me tonight. Then we-”

A knock on the door startled them. Millard Price walked in. Brad had to struggle to keep his composure.

“Sorry to interrupt, Felicia, but I just heard that you were attacked last night. Are you OK?”

Brad watched Price closely. He seemed genuinely concerned.

“Thanks to Brad’s quick thinking, I’m just fine.”

“Thank God.”

Brad stood up. “I should get hopping on that memo, Judge.”

“Fine. Come in, Millard.”

Brad took one final look at Justice Price before shutting the door. Then he went around the corner to his office. Harriet was working away at her computer, and Brad saw her cast a nervous glance at Keith Evans, who was sitting in Brad’s chair. The FBI agent stood up as soon as Brad walked in.

“I just dropped by to see how you’re doing,” Evans asked.

“I’m fine, just a little sore, that’s all.”

“Good. Is there someplace we can talk? I want to go over what happened yesterday in more detail, now that you’ve had a rest, and I don’t want to disturb Miss Lezak.”

Brad led Evans through the halls until they reached the spacious, elegant, and architecturally identical East and West Conference Rooms, which faced each other across a corridor near the courtroom. Each space was bordered by a courtyard that provided natural light to the interior rooms. No meetings were being held in either place, so Brad led Keith into the East Conference Room. The carpets and drapery were rose colored, and the walls were paneled in American quartered white oak. Crystal chandeliers from Czechoslovakia hung from a ceiling glazed in two tones of gold. Portraits of the first eight chief justices graced the walls. Rows of beautifully carved, straight-backed wooden chairs had been set up for some special occasion that was to take place the next day. Brad took one chair and Evans sat next to him.

“This is some place,” the agent remarked as he took in the stylish setting.

“Working here can be a bit overwhelming at times. Especially if you grew up in a ranch-style tract home on Long Island.”

“I can see what you mean. So,” Evans said, transferring his attention to his friend, “has anything occurred to you since we spoke last night?”

Brad knew he should tell Keith about Justice Moss’s suspicions, but he would never violate her confidence.

“Not a thing, and believe me I’ve given what happened a lot of thought.”

“I bet you have. What about the assailant?”

Brad shook his head. “He was covered from head to toe. I can tell you he was about my height and wiry, but that’s it. I was on the floor most of the time or being dragged across the concrete with my back to the guy when he had me in that choke hold.”

Evans sighed. “I was hoping you could give me something, because we’re coming up empty. The perp vanished without a trace.”