“And none of you ever had the slightest suspicion?”
She paused. “How do you define suspicion?”
“Did you know or did you not know?”
“Sir, anytime you have an attractive man of Tad’s age who is not married and has never been married, there are always going to be people who suspect he is gay. So what? I don’t listen to that kind of gossip. And I’m sure you don’t, either.”
“Do you think there was perhaps…a tendency to go easier on him because he was believed to be a member of a minority group?”
Haspiel stared at him incomprehensibly. “Like someone might cut him slack because he’s gay? Not in this world.”
“I just wondered if it was ever a disruptive factor.”
“Sir, it wasn’t any kind of factor. We didn’t know. We didn’t care!”
“So you think it doesn’t make any difference?”
Her head tilted. “I don’t see—”
“Judge…do you consider yourself a Christian woman?”
“Wait a minute,” Ben said, rising from his chair, careful not to use the word “objection.” “This is inappropriate.”
Senator Potter appeared taken aback. “I am not embarrassed to say that I am a man of faith.”
Ben stared at Chairman Keyes. “Don’t let the hearing degenerate into this, Mister Chairman. Show some spine.”
Keyes drew himself up. “I do tend to think that questions about religion are not necessary to this hearing, although I’m sure the senator from Oregon, being a devout man of faith who observes all the Biblical injunctions, New Testament and Old, is genuine in his concern—as are many of us—regarding a nominee who stands in flagrant disavowal of the articles of faith.”
“And that goes for my constituents as well,” Potter added. “They’ve read the Book of Leviticus.”
“Have they read the First Amendment?” Ben asked. “Specifically, the part about freedom of worship? The separation between church and state?”
Ben managed to shut down the questioning, at least for the present, but Potter had made his point for whatever it was worth. A long succession of friendly witnesses ensued, running late into the day. Ben wasn’t sure any of them were doing Roush much good—certainly they weren’t going to change the minds of the diehards on the committee—but at least they did serve the fundamental purpose of making the proceedings far more boring than they had been before. In his mind’s eye, Ben could see hands all across America reaching for their remotes. By the end of the day he imagined more adults were watching Teletubbies than this confirmation hearing. There wasn’t enough of interest happening to fill a sound bite.
Until Jennifer Tierney took the stand.
She was a perfect character witness, or so they thought, because she had known Roush for decades. They had met in law school and remained friends. She had vacationed with him, worked with him, been with him through fun times and hard times. And she had nothing but the most complimentary praise for him. He remained calm in the face of adversity, but he was strong when strength was required. He loved children, played with her two daughters for hours at a time. He was generous but frugal. Ben was waiting for trustworthy, brave, and reverent, but before they got to that point, the chairman yielded the floor to the senator from Idaho.
Senator Northrop was technically a Democrat, but she was so conservative and had such a right-wing constituency that she usually voted with the Republicans and was expected to do so at the conclusion of this committee hearing. This not only reduced the number of votes upon which Roush could count—already in the minority—but also raised the even more difficult issue of who Hammond and the others backing Roush could trust.
“You’ve been out with Judge Roush on a number of social occasions?”
“Yes, of course. We live barely a block from each other in Montgomery County.”
“And you work in similar arenas?”
“Well, I’m on the state court of criminal appeals, but…yes. We get invited to the same parties.”
“And were you invited to the gathering at Judge Roush’s house the day after his nomination? When he gave the tragedy-tinged press conference?”
Meaning: when the corpse was discovered in his garden. Ben started to rise, then stopped himself. He didn’t have quite enough yet.
“Yes, I was.”
“Did you see what happened?”
“I saw what everyone else saw.”
“Were you surprised?”
“When a woman was discovered dead in the garden? Who wasn’t surprised?”
“Of course.” Senator Northrop pressed her long fingernails against the base of her microphone. “I don’t want to ask you about the murder, ma’am. I know some feel that would be irrelevant to the present proceeding, and I’m sure Mr. Kincaid would protest and none of us would get out of here before the Beltway was packed bumper to bumper.” Like any professional comedian, she paused for the ensuing laughter. “But I wonder if you noticed where Judge Roush was before the press conference began.”
Tierney paused, obviously surprised by the question. “No. I don’t really recall.”
“You didn’t see him?”
“I saw him when I entered the home.”
“And that was…?”
“Perhaps forty-five minutes before the press conference. He was very busy taking meetings with people.”
“You know that for a fact?”
“Well, I know that’s what I was told.”
“That seems to be what everyone was told. But I’ve yet to find anyone who actually saw Judge Roush in the minutes immediately prior to the press conference. And the police are having the same problem.” Ben remained silent but rose to his feet, something he knew Northrop would see out of the corner of her eye. “But let me change the subject. You’ve told us you didn’t see Judge Roush. Did you see his…” She coughed slightly. “…lover, Mr. Eastwick? Do you know where he was or what he was doing?”
“No. I never saw him at all. Not until the press conference, when he was discovered with—”
“Just a minute,” Ben said. “This is improper questioning. It has nothing to do with the nominee’s qualifications for the Supreme Court position.”
Chairman Keyes looked at Ben with a blank expression. “Are you interposing a point of order?”
“You can call it a point of anything you like. This is wrong.”
“And what exactly is it you find so wrong?”
Ben knew how this game was played; he’d seen it done a million times in the courtroom. Keyes wanted him to make a great fuss about discussing the murder—with the unavoidable result that the jury would be left with the impression that Roush was hiding something. Here, the jury was an American viewing audience of several million people. And the tens of millions more who would read about it tomorrow morning or see the clips on the evening news.
“I object to turning this hearing into a murder trial. The police are investigating the murder. We’re here to appoint the next Supreme Court justice.”
“Well, to consider an appointment, at any rate.”
“So leave police matters alone.”
“Mr. Kincaid,” Senator Keyes said slowly, his Texas drawl coming to the forefront, “are you not aware that the Constitution expressly grants Congress certain police powers to investigate matters of national interest?”
“This isn’t the payola scandal, Senator. This is a slimy back-door attempt to impugn the reputation of a distinguished jurist by making constant references to an unexplained death.”
The senator smiled benignly. “If you would allow us to ask our questions without interruption, perhaps the death would cease to be unexplained.”
Ben resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. “I will not permit any more questions relating to that young woman’s death.”