Capitol Threat

21

Richard Trevor waited about a fourth of a mile down the main trail on Theodore Roosevelt Island, near a huge statue of the famed Rough Rider. The clearing was ornamented with two stone bridges crossing small canals and a pair of large decorative fountains. Despite being permanently lodged in the center of the Potomac River, it was not a common stop for tourists. Easy to get to but not heavily populated, it constituted an ideal meeting place for the city’s top lobbyist and a somewhat timid judge who still wasn’t sure he wanted to campaign for an opening that didn’t quite exist yet.

“Judge Haskins?” Trevor said as the older man approached.

Haskins was gazing at the statue, which showed the former President standing with his right hand raised.

Trevor shared the view. “Looks like he’s being sworn in right before your eyes, doesn’t he?”

Haskins was slow to respond. “I was thinking he looks like he’s in one of those great girl groups from the fifties.” He noted the lack of response from Trevor. “Never mind, son. You’re too young.”

“You know, there’s a swearing-in ceremony just like the one that big bronze man is experiencing—for new Supreme Court justices.”

Haskins raised a finger to his lips. He was wearing a coat with the lapels up and his reading glasses. Not exactly anything that could be called a disguise, should he be spotted, but enough to minimize the chances of being recognized, just the same. “Are you Trevor?”

“I am, sir. And let me say that it is an honor—”

“Yes, yes, I know. Your assistant…what was her name?”

“Melody.”

“Yes, that was it. Very persuasive young woman.” He glanced at the gentle downward slope of the trail. “Shall we walk?”

“Sure.” No problem for an experienced lobbyist like Trevor. He did half his business this way. Keep moving. Less likely to attract attention. Politicians acting like spies. “I want to thank you for meeting with me. It’s quite an honor, chatting with a hero such as yourself.”

“Oh, please don’t—”

“Especially when I’ve been trying for so long. Without success. Mind if I ask what changed your mind?”

“Well…your assistant suggested the possibility that the President was considering another Supreme Court nominee. I mean, if the current one fails.”

“Not much of an ‘if.’ More like a certainty.”

“Yes, that’s what my friends in high places tell me.”

“But that’s been true since the day Roush was nominated. Why are we meeting now?”

Haskins walked a good hundred yards without speaking, kicking the leaves and staring at the horizon. “Did you watch the hearing this morning?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t mean to be unkind, but…that was a pretty pathetic spectacle. Appalling.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“Whatever you may think of his personal life, Roush clearly is not ready for the public spectrum. National attention. And who is that idiot they’ve got acting as his advisor? It’s almost as if someone on his support staff wants him to fail. Or his handlers are sabotaging him from within.”

“Sad, but true. So what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking there’s going to be another nomination made soon.”

“And you’re wondering if it could be you.”

Haskins pursed his lips. “I’ve never sought a higher position. I am very content with my job on the Tenth Circuit. I don’t—”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, sir. Most of the people I know think you should have been chosen in the first place.”

“Well, I don’t know…”

“Your heroism at the Hilton brought you into the national eye for a reason, sir. God has a plan; he doesn’t play dice with the universe. If I may be so bold, I believe the President made a mistake ignoring that in the first place. I’m told he regrets it.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I’m also told that when the Roush nomination is crushed, or more likely he withdraws, President Blake wants to be ready to make an immediate replacement nomination, one that everyone will support.”

Haskins stopped, leaning against a tree and brushing mud off the soles of his shoes. “I can understand that. His time is ticking. But what’s all this got to do with me?”

Trevor smiled. “Modesty aside, sir, I think you know. I represent a number of lobbying interests, all of which share some common…philosophical beliefs. And we all believe that you would be the perfect next choice for the Supreme Court.”

“And these interests would be…”

“People who do not accept the nomination of a man who flagrantly violates the tenets of the Old Testament in his daily life.”

“Ah.” Haskins continued to walk silently down the grassy pathway. “The Christian Congregation.”

“So, what do you think? Are you interested?”

“Am I interested? What judge wouldn’t be interested in a promotion to the Supreme Court of the United States? The question isn’t whether I’m interested.”

“I can assure you I can deliver the support of the people I represent.”

“That’s just it. It isn’t a matter of what I want. It’s who I want to get into bed with.”

Frown lines crossed Trevor’s face. “What are you—?”

“It’s just an expression, son.” He looked back and gazed at the statue behind them, sighing quietly. “Would you prefer a military metaphor? The question is which hills I want to capture.”

“I don’t quite—”

“I only get one ride, son. One chance and then it’s over. I didn’t ask for all this attention. I have no experience in these matters. I don’t know anything about Washington politics. If I take this step, plunge myself even further into the limelight, I have to make sure I’ve got the strongest backers possible.”

“With respect, sir, you’ll never have a better opportunity. The need for a nominee coming so soon after your feats of heroism—”

“You think I don’t know that? Nonetheless, the President passed me over the first time. He could do it again. For that matter, how can I be certain the Roush nomination will fail?”

“Well.” Trevor stopped walking. “I think I can promise you that.”

“Nothing personal, but you can’t guarantee anything. Not even if you own every politician on the Judiciary Committee. I’ve always been an honest man and I’ve conducted an honest life. I can’t risk anything that might undermine my integrity. If you can’t offer assurances—”

“I think I can.” He popped open his briefcase and produced an envelope.

“What’s this?”

“See for yourself. It’s the reason the Roush nomination is certain to fail.”

“If this is about him being gay—”

“It’s ever so much more than that.”

Haskins held the envelope as if it were a dirty diaper. “I can’t open this here. Out in the open.”

“Then don’t. Take it home. Show it to Margaret. Then reach your decision.”

Haskins stared across the horizon. The sun was beginning to descend, and the orange of the sky melted into the orange of the falling leaves. Times like this, Washington, D.C. seemed like the most beautiful city in the world. So long as you didn’t travel too far from the center.

“This has to be on the up-and-up. I have a good life. Wonderful wife, three lovely daughters. I can go back to Denver and be perfectly happy.”

“I know you can, sir. God has blessed you many times over. So take a look at the information in the envelope. Please.”

“I suppose there’s no harm in just looking.”

Trevor took Haskins by the shoulder and steered him toward the end of the trail. “Of course not. There’s only divine providence. God wants you on the Supreme Court, Judge. I’m certain of that. He wants you in there pitching for him. Fixing so much of what’s wrong with this country today.” He patted the judge on the back. “Just read the file. And know this.” He peered deeply into the judge’s eyes. “If we can bring down one nominee, we can guarantee the next.”