“You know the statute places limits on subpoenaing e-mail service providers, and this seems like a fishing expedition. I just can’t imagine any person not in law enforcement would know how to do—”
Before Judge Chin finished her sentence, Blake Hellstrom said, “With respect, Your Honor, this is not an unknown communication method. Teenagers use it. And the Supreme Court this term issued a decision that discussed the very practice I’m talking about here. The opinion in United States v. Ahmed spelled it out in detail.”
Sean was pleased that Hellstrom was pursuing the e-mail, and that he’d mentioned the Ahmed decision, a case involving the constitutionality of the government’s controversial surveillance program. Sean’s good friend, Michael Freeman, the deputy solicitor general, had argued the case on behalf of the government. It was a five-four decision, with the minority submitting a vitriolic dissenting opinion. A dissent The New York Times had taken the rare step of reprinting in full.
And then Sean’s blood turned cold.
The fragments all came together. A portrait of Abby’s mystery boyfriend. Someone older, someone she admired. Someone she needed to protect, to keep their relationship a secret. Someone who knew how to send surreptitious messages through an e-mail account.
Sean got up to leave. Emily frowned as people in the gallery started looking at them. Even Hellstrom paused a beat.
“Where are you going?” Emily whispered.
Sean reached for her hand. She must have read it in his face because she let him virtually pull her out of her seat. Heads in the gallery snapped after them as Sean and Emily hurried out of the courtroom.
In the corridor of the Prettyman building, Emily turned toward her husband. “What’s going on?” She looked into his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I know who was with Abby in the library that night.”
CHAPTER 75
Sean charged into the Supreme Court, the wind whooshing into the entryway doors. It was the first time he’d been in the building since Before.
The ground floor still gleamed with white marble, John Marshall still sat stoically in bronze, the eyes on the portraits of past justices still seemed to follow as you walked by. Sean headed to the elevator and waited. He kept his head down. The court was a friendly place, a community of people who cared about the institution and one another, and he didn’t want to have to engage in obligatory small talk or condolences. The elevator door opened and he had a rush of emotion, recalling the last time he’d glided up to the library that dark night. Today, though, the attendant was present. Esther was an elderly black woman who’d spent the better part of her life working in the seven-by-five-foot paneled box, crouched on a stool pushing buttons for people. Sean was surprised when Esther didn’t say anything, but lifted herself up from the stool, gave him a hug, and returned to her station. It was one of the most genuine responses he’d received to Abby’s death.
The elevator doors opened and Sean stepped into the library. He paused a beat, bracing himself, before he crossed the hall to the librarian stations. He fought off the image of his daughter’s twisted and lifeless body, stuffed away in the shelf. He needed to stay sharp.
The library staff fluttered around, whispering and staring, until one of the librarians approached and asked Sean if he needed assistance.
Sean asked for the location of the court’s most recent opinions from the term. It would be too soon for the opinions to be in the bound U.S. Reports, Sean knew. The opinions would still be in the small booklets printed by the court. And sure enough, the librarian led Sean into the Reading Room to a cache of booklets stacked on a shelf near the front of the room. She averted her gaze from the back, which had a scrim that hung from the vaulted ceilings cordoning off the scene of the crime. Sean wasn’t sure whether it was sealed off by the investigators or whether it was now a construction area. Sean presumed that the court’s curator would order a fresh redesign of the back of the library as soon as possible, to prevent the staff at One First Street from having to imagine the grisly events.
“Here they are,” the librarian said.
Sean thanked her and she scurried off. He sorted through the opinions until he found it: United States v. Ahmed. The case Blake Hellstrom identified in his argument to Judge Chin. He flipped to the back and found the dissenting opinion. Dissents are authored by a single justice and other justices join the opinion. He found the name and his rage boiled to the surface.
CHAPTER 76
Sean approached the Supreme Court officer stationed at the north corridor that separated the Great Hall from chambers. The officer was a young guy who wore a blue blazer and radio clipped to his belt. His eyes widened a trace at the sight of Sean.
“I have an appointment.”