Deadlock

reelected four times. He was sixty years old with perfect chestnut hair. “You know better’n that, Madame Justice. Which is precisely why I invited you here.”

With a short nod Levering took a sip of his drink. He wore a perfectly pressed white shirt and a maroon tie. There was a rumor he’d be in the next round of presidential candidates. Millie had no doubt he’d acquit himself like the winner he’d always been.

“They’re gonna look back on this time in history, Madame Justice, and you know what they’re gonna say about you? That you stood in the breech. That the country could have veered off in a terrible direction, but Justice Millicent Mannings Hollander was the woman fate had selected to keep her country from dying a horrible death. How’s that sound?”

Millie cleared her throat. “A little like Justice Hollander, Warrior Princess.”

With a laugh Levering said, “Maybe just like that. I mean, you handed that fancy lawyer his head today, didn’t you?”

“A justice has to ask the hard questions,” Millie said. “The lawyers know that going in.”

Levering waved his glass dismissively. Ice clinked on the sides. “You know what I’m saying. We can be open here.”

“I’m not sure I follow, Senator.”

“I’m a plain talker, Madame Justice,” Levering said. “The people in my state get up, go to work, raise kids, and what you and your colleagues do is going to affect them for a long, long time. Maybe forever. And you, Justice Hollander, are the five on the most important 5-4 majority in the history of this country.”

Deep down, she knew what he said was true. But that was not how she liked to think of herself. She wanted to be just another justice sworn to uphold the Constitution to the best of her ability. That she happened to be the key swing vote on a highly polarized court was simply the way the gavel slammed.

Levering went on. “We’d have a law against partial-birth abortion if it wasn’t for you. Can you imagine what that would have done? To women? To girls? We’d have Pat Robertson and James Dobson arresting doctors for murder. What a nightmare.”

Millie stared at the lime slice floating in her glass. That had not been an easy decision, even if Levering liked the outcome.

“And this case about religion in the schools,” Levering said. “Again with the Christian Right. You can’t get rid of ’em. But you held them back, Madame Justice, and next term – ”

“Senator,” Millie interrupted, “I would prefer that we don’t discuss anything about next term or about cases that might be considered. You know I can’t do that.”

“Well, can’t is a pretty strong word. A little bit of chat wouldn’t hurt, would it? Just between friends?”

“Senator,” Millie said, gripping her glass thoughtfully in two hands, “when FDR tried to pack the Court, you will recall, he was at the height of his popularity. He had a huge majority in the Senate and a 4-1 majority in the House. But his plans failed. You know why?”

Levering waited for her to answer.

“Because the American people knew it would hurt. They knew it was wrong even for a great president to blatantly meddle with the Court. I believe in the judgment of the people, Senator. Not only that, I hold it in trust.”

For a moment Levering looked at her, then finally nodded. “That’s all I need to hear. How’d you like to be Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court?”

There it was. She had been certain he was going to ask. It was still amazing to hear it. The first woman chief justice. Through all the political machinations of the last decade – the fractious Court appointments and hearings, the calculations and in-fighting, the public outcries and battling newspaper editorials – she had wondered if this moment would ever come. And now it was here.

Any justice with an ounce of ambition – and that was all of them – had thought about the CJ’s chair. She thought about it because the Court was her whole life, and she wanted to serve it in the highest and best way possible. To be named as the first woman CJ would be something even her mother might finally applaud.

“I can make it happen,” Levering said. “We all know Pavel wants to retire. That would mean the president would appoint the next chief, and the president and I are very good friends.”

“What about Justice Riley?” Millie said.

“Too old, too controversial.”

“He deserves it.”

“We don’t always get what we deserve in this life. Much as I admire Tom Riley, there is no finer mind on the Court than yours.”

Millie looked again at her water glass. The little bubbles seemed to be exploding everywhere.

“Now don’t be modest about it,” the senator said. “It’s true. You are a towering intellect, your opinions are models of style. Larry Graebner says he uses you as the model in his classes at Yale. The question is not, can you do it? The question is, do you want it?”

Millie paused, took a deep breath, and met the senator’s eyes. “Senator Levering, I love two things in this world above all else. The law, and the United States Supreme Court. I would do my level best to lead it in the finest traditions of the greatest judicial body in the world.”

Levering smiled and nodded slowly. “That’s about the most eloquent acceptance speech I’ve ever heard.” He put his glass down on his ornate mahogany desk. “You are the right woman at the right time, like I said. And that brings me to my next question. It’s rather personal. Do you mind?”

It was clear he was going to ask anyway. “All right.”

Levering leaned forward. “I wonder if you’d do me the honor of having dinner with me sometime.”

Before Millie could respond, Levering added, “I know I dropped that kind of sudden, but I’m a sudden sort of fella.”

4

Sarah Mae Sherman looked as skinny and scared as the first time Charlene Moore met her. She had big eyes, like the children in those black-and-white photographs taken during the Depression. Sarah Mae, if she had not been a real girl in terrible torment, would have been a perfect casting choice for a remake of The Grapes of Wrath.

She looked lost in the wooden chair in Charlene’s office, even though her mother was with her. Aggie Sherman was a larger, plumper version of Sarah Mae. Unlike her daughter, who wore her hair in long strands, Aggie had hers cut short, a look that matched the severity of the expression she always wore.

It was even more severe now, after Charlene had advised them to turn down the settlement offer from Winsor & Grimes.

“That’s almost half a million dollars,” Aggie said, sitting on the edge of her chair. “That’s more money than we’ll ever see in our whole lives. You sayin’ not to take it?”

Charlene folded her hands, trying to stay calm. “What I am saying is that we started this case because we wanted not only to compensate Sarah Mae, but also to punish the abortion clinic and doctor who did this to her. To send a message. The amount they are offering is just the insurance company’s idea of nuisance value. They want to get rid of us. They do not want to try this case.”

Aggie grunted dismissively. “When we went into this, we warn’t in no federal court. You told me that’s a lot harder.”