Dark Zone

42

The words judge’s chambers inspired a certain awe in most laymen, and Rubens was no exception. But when he showed up at the courthouse a few minutes late for the meeting, he was shown to an office that was, to be charitable, plain. The walls were in need of a good coat of paint, the curtains on the lone window seemed as if they had been bought at Wal-Mart, and even the American flag in the corner looked a bit worse for wear. At the center of the room sat a long Formica-topped table in front of a plain metal desk. A man in a pin-striped shirt sat at the desk, sleeves rolled to the elbows, tie loosened, salt-and-pepper hair gently mussed. This was Judge Croner.

“Mr. Rubens. Please, sit down. I’m glad you could come,” said the judge. “We’ve only just been introducing ourselves.”

Rubens nodded at the others and sat next to his lawyer, which happened to put him across from Rebecca. He was surprised to see that she had a frightened expression on her face.

It made her look younger. Not prettier — she was pretty to begin with — but definitely younger.

Her husband sat next to her: a chubby, pasty-faced accountant.

The judge began speaking about the mechanics of the legal proceedings in general terms, repeating things McGovern had told Rubens the other day and when they had first met. He was speaking in generalities, and Rubens got the feeling that Croner was watching their reactions, sizing them up so he could see how to proceed.

Rebecca’s attorney interrupted as the judge began talking about what the medical examination would most likely entail. The case was straightforward, said the lawyer. Everyone would agree that the General was incompetent and that someone had to be appointed to see to his needs. This should have been done ages ago. The daughter was the natural candidate.

Rubens wanted McGovern to object—he was the natural candidate, the one the General had asked for. But she said nothing as the other lawyer continued. Rubens felt his anger rise as Rebecca’s counsel declared that—“with all due respect ”—other interested parties had their own agendas. As important as those interests might be in their proper sphere, they were of no relevance here.

The comments were, of course, directed at Rubens, though he was not named. Rubens finally found it impossible to not speak out.

“That’s simply not true,” he said. “My interests are the General’s and the General’s alone. He is my friend.”

Ellen put her hand gently on his. Her touch caught him by surprise and he stopped speaking, even though everyone was looking at him.

“I don’t mean to insult you, Mr. Rubens,” said Rebecca’s lawyer. “But you can’t deny that your employer has sent you here.”

Ellen squeezed his hand, speaking before he could. “Mr. Rubens does work for an important government agency, as did the General. We’re all aware of that. But of course that’s no more relevant here than the fact that Mr. Paulson and I are attorneys.”

It wasn’t the strongest argument, Rubens thought, but at least she was saying something.

The other lawyer began talking about “special employment requirements of the government agency involved” and how these would skew Rubens’ judgment even if he hadn’t been ordered to come. Under other circumstances, Rubens might have been amused by the way everyone at the hearing was avoiding naming the agency or talking about what it did. But he wasn’t amused now at all. He wanted to shout at them that it was the General who was important — that brave and intelligent man whose world had been reduced to a white room twelve by fifteen feet, whose brilliant mind was now a trampoline for delusions.

“Mr. Paulson is an eloquent lawyer,” said McGovern finally, once more squeezing Rubens’ hand. “I think the General would be well served if he were his counsel.”

Why the concession? wondered Rubens. She should be attacking, not retreating.

“I quite agree,” said the judge, who’d been silent all this time. “But of course he’s not. An attorney will have to be appointed to represent Mr. Rosenberg’s interests — should I call him General? He is a general, yes? Is that how he likes to be addressed?”

“He’s actually a very humble man,” said Rubens, though the judge was looking at Rebecca. “He introduces himself as ‘Mr.,’ but those of us who’ve known him for a long time, usually we call him General. I suppose other people would use that as well.”

The judge nodded, but it was Rebecca who had the last word: “That would be fine, I think. I always just call him Daddy.”

Where he’d taken his time before, now the judge spoke quickly, laying out the steps that he would take. The first and most important was to appoint a lawyer to represent the General. A medical assessment would follow, probably fairly quickly, but of course the General’s lawyer would have an important say on the timetable. Everything from here on out would hinge on the General’s court-appointed legal representative. Interested parties would always be welcome to add relevant information, but the law directed the judge to work in a certain way and ultimately he would be the one to make the decision.

That was the opening for Rebecca’s lawyer. Rubens remained calm as the attorney suggested that a jury trial might be appropriate.

“An interesting point,” said Judge Croner. “Of course, the General’s attorney is going to be the one speaking for him, so from this point onward that would be a matter for him to propose.”

As a courtesy to the interested parties, added the judge, he would of course keep them abreast of the timetable for the proceedings. He would certainly work with the General’s counsel, whom he intended to name by the end of the day.

“Who would that be?” asked Rebecca’s lawyer.

“Naturally someone with experience and the high recommendation of the Bar,” said the judge, parrying the question gently yet firmly. He was not to be interfered with, despite his easygoing manner. “As I said earlier, a medical examination would proceed promptly thereafter. I would hope that the General’s counsel would be prepared for a formal hearing by the end of the week. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you,” said the judge, tapping his hands on the table and rising to dismiss them.

“So, what did you think?” McGovern asked as they descended in the elevator.

Rebecca, her husband, and their lawyer were in the car as well, and Rubens felt constrained to say he thought the judge was “a very nice fellow.”

“Very sharp,” said Ellen.

Was she talking to the other attorney or to him? Rubens said nothing until they were out in the parking lot and the others had walked off in the other direction.

“Is that timetable normal?” he asked.

“A little fast but not all that unusual. In a lot of instances, these decisions have to be made very expeditiously because medical care is involved. We could have a hearing on Friday and a decision right after that. Does it seem too fast?”

“No, I guess not.”

“The fact that the General is who he is will also push Judge Croner to get things settled very quickly,” added McGovern. “That’s why he tried to solve things without a formal process.”

“How did he try to solve things?” Rubens asked.

“Oh, that’s definitely what he was doing. If they had made more of an opening, he would have sounded them out in detail.”

“I’d appreciate it if you were more… forward,” Rubens told her.

“How so?”

“You could have defended me. I’m not representing the NSA.”

“That was obvious.”

“How? The judge doesn’t know me. When their lawyer said I was, you should have jumped right in. You did speak up, don’t get me wrong, but it was a little late.”

“Frankly, I would have preferred not saying anything at all,” she told him. “I only said that to keep you from talking. The fact of the matter is, Mr. Rubens, you’re not on trial. Neither is Rebecca. This isn’t that sort of proceeding. The real way to think about this, if you want to think about it, is to pretend you’re just watching. The judge invited you in as a courtesy. And the same with Rebecca,” she added before he could object. “The hearing is about the General and his competence. Not yours.”

“It’s about who watches his affairs.”

“It’s about his future. Didn’t you tell me his wishes should be honored? Isn’t that what’s important?” She touched his arm. “I’m sorry. I’m lecturing. Forgive me.”

Rubens pursed his lips.

“What you said about what to call the General, that was better than any brief,” she added. “It was very eloquent.”

“It was just what I felt.”

“‘That’s why it was eloquent.” She glanced at her watch. “It would have been better if it didn’t come to this, but now that the process is under way, things will have a momentum and logic of their own.”

“Why would it be better if it didn’t come to this?”

“Don’t you think that? These sorts of disagreements don’t do anyone any good.”

Yes, actually, he did think that. Why was he being so argumentative?

And why did he feel as if he were the one on trial?

“I may be somewhat busy over the next few days,” Rubens told McGovern. “But you can call the number I gave you at any time, day or night.”

“Days will be fine. I’ll see you, Mr. Rubens.”