The Court was due to render its Swayle decision from the bench on Friday. On Tuesday morning, Washington awoke to a riveting story in the Washington Times:
The Supreme Court is expected to rule Friday in favor of a bank robber who is suing the manufacturer of the gun he used in the commission of the crime because it failed to fire when he tried to shoot the arresting officer.
According to a source within the Court, the justices have voted 5-4 in favor of the plaintiff, one Jimmy James Swayle, a career criminal currently serving 25 years in federal prison. The deciding vote was cast by the newest justice on the high bench, former TV personality Pepper Cartwright. Justice Cartwright, the source noted, has made “an already polarized court even more antipodal.”
The word means “diametrically opposite.”
It was a breathtaking leak, even by the standards of Washington, DC, where everything short of actual nuclear launch code sequences routinely turns up on the front page of the paper. Pepper’s clerk, Sandoval, reached her at home just before seven a.m. to alert her to it. An hour later, two Court marshals knocked on her door to announce that they had instructions “to provide for your security, ma’am. Orders of the Chief Justice.”
By the time she had arrived at the marble palace, Chief Justice Hardwether had already sent a SupremeNet e-mail to all the justices deploring the leak, apologizing to Justice Cartwright “on behalf of the entire Court,” announcing that he would initiate an internal investigation, and hinting that he might even bring in the FBI. This last part did not sit well with various justices, unleashing a torrent of furious postings on J-Blog, the justices’ Intranet chat room.
Emphatically resent implication my chambers might have had anything to do with this tawdry affair and shall in no way cooperate. Strong letter follows. SS [Silvio Santamaria]
Dismaying as the episode may be, I find even more outrageous the imputation that suspicion should be so casually and widely applied here. What happened to Equal Protection? RR [Ruth Richter]
Why don’t you just install a polygraph machine in the Great Hall? IH [Ishiguro Haro]
Quis custodiet… sigh. [20]MG [Mo Gotbaum]
Come on, everyone-let’s all take a deep breath and calm down. PP [Paige Plympton]
Reading them, Pepper was struck by the fact that most of them seemed most outraged about being subjected to an investigation, not the leak.
Outside, the world at large was howling not for the head of the leaker but for-hers. The article had managed to focus all the rage over the decision on Pepper, not on the other four justices who had joined her. The blogosphere and airwaves were in meltdown. By noon, the first calls to IMPEACH CARTWRIGHT had been posted and a crowd had gathered in front of the Court. A candlelight vigil was duly announced.
In the midst of the storm of outrage, Pepper’s secretary announced that her grandfather was on the phone. This was the moment she had been dreading above all. She had even sent him and Juanita round-trip business-class tickets to Cancún, Mexico, and paid for a suite at a fancy hotel (with casino-JJ loved to gamble) for the express purpose of getting him out of the country when Swayle hit the news. With any luck he’d be in the casino when CNN reported the decision. Now this.
“Hello, JJ,” she said.
“Is this true?” he said.
She sighed. “Yep.”
There was a long silence, not even a pwwttt.
“Did you call just to not say anything?” Pepper said. “Why don’t you just cuss me out and get it over with?”
“I just don’t see how you coulda…” JJ said. “That coulda been me that son of a bitch was aiming at.”
“I know. But there was this case called Kozinko v. Mixmaster where…” Her heart wasn’t quite in it.
“Is that why you sent us those tickets?”
She drew in a breath to lie, but couldn’t. The air came back out, unpolluted by mendacity. “Yep,” she said.
Another long silence. “I know most everyone who goes to Washington loses their way sooner or later. But I didn’t think it happened this fast.”
“It’s a complicated case, JJ. The Second Circuit found that-”
Pwwttt. “No, Pepper. It ain’t complicated.” Silence. Pepper couldn’t think what to say. JJ said, “Guess I’m gonna hang up now,” and he did.
A GRIM-LOOKING HAYDEN CORK had brought in the news yesterday morning, having just gotten a whip count from the White House Congressional Liaison. The Senate was about to pass the Presidential Term Limit Amendment, 77-23.
“Apparently the Swayle vote was the final nail,” he reported.
Graydon Clenndennynn had been yanked back from another remunerative negotiation, persuading Russia to equip its domestic security forces with U.S.-made Taser guns, there being increasing need in Moscow these days to deal with a restive citizenry.
Hayden said to the President, “We’re going to kill him if we keep putting him through this kind of jet lag.” But Clenndennynn showed up in the Oval Office looking crisp and ready to lend wisdom and eminence to yet another presidential emergency.
“I’m not sure I see what the crisis is,” Graydon said, setting down his china coffee cup. “I was under the impression you didn’t want to run again.”
“I don’t,” the President said gloomily.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Because now I’ll have to run. To show them what I think of their ridiculous amendment.”
“Why don’t you just denounce them and be done with it?”
“I denounce the Congress all the time. Now, if I don’t run, everyone will think it’s because I was intimidated or scared off. I won’t have that. Because it’s not the truth.”
“All right. Then in that case, run.”
“Graydon,” the President said, “stop pretending to be obtuse. I don’t want to run. Everything I’ve tried to do has been predicated on being in office for only one term. There’s a principle at stake here.”
How many times had Graydon heard that hoary asseveration. “Then don’t run,” he said with a fleck of petulance.
“Hayden,” the President said, “would you please call Andrews and have a jet fueled to take Mr. Clenndennynn back to Moscow?”
“Donald,” Graydon said, “there are times when a leader has to choose-”
“If this is one of your what-would-Winston-do lectures,” the President said, “I don’t want to hear it. I’m not in the mood for Churchillian wisdom today, thank you.”
“-between the between the unpalatable and the poisonous. All right. The amendment is an insult, a slap across the face administered by a bunch of self-dealing scoundrels. So what else is new? You’ve been warring with the Congress since day one. All I’m saying is, you’re perfectly right. If you don’t run now, it’ll look like… cowardice. That you’re throwing in the towel.”
“So I’m damned either way. Is that it?”
“Sorry. Look,” Graydon said, “if it’s the prospect of serving another term that’s got you tied up in knots, I wouldn’t worry too much on that score. You certainly have my vote. But I didn’t pass huge crowds here on my way in from Andrews chanting, ‘Four more years.’ Where are we in the polls, Hayden?”
“Low thirties,” Hayden said. “We had some bounce from Cartwright, but Swayle eliminated that.”
“How could the Court have ruled for that… Oh, well.” Graydon sighed. “Supreme Court justices almost always disappoint. Remember what Truman said when they asked him if he had any disappointments. ‘Yes, and they’re both sitting on the Supreme Court.’ Well. There we are. Point is, sir, I think you can safely run for reelection and expect to be back on your front porch in Wapa-however it’s pronounced-by the following January 21.” [21]