Roush tugged at his collar. “No. The President thoroughly vetted me. How could I possibly have any secret bigger than the one I revealed yesterday? And that wasn’t a secret. That was just none of anyone’s business.”
“Well…are there any other tidbits of information that are none of anyone’s business but might nonetheless derail your confirmation?”
“Absolutely not.”
“I’ll go out on a limb and assume you tilt to the right.”
“I am a Republican. I’ve voted for the Republican presidential candidate all my life.” He paused. “But I’m a reasonable man.”
“I read your Fifth Circuit opinion in Chalders v. Boring. You struck down the parental notification requirement in the state abortion law. Even though the Supreme Court upheld the one in Oklahoma.”
“They were very different statutes. The one in Chalders clearly violated the right to privacy—even allowed the state to put women’s names on the Internet. I wasn’t ruling on the constitutionality of abortion. I was ruling on the appropriateness of a specific statute.”
“I got that,” Ben said, eyeing him carefully. He saw no hint of dissembling, no sense that the man was putting on a show. “But it’s a distinction a lot of die-hard Republicans I know wouldn’t have perceived.”
Roush held out his hands. “Like I told you, I’m a reasonable man.”
Ben kept watching the eyes. “At the same time, you buried the Connecticut gun control bill. The one the state legislature spent five years getting passed.”
Roush remained unruffled. He maintained eye contact the entire time he spoke. He was firm, but not insistent. “The statute violated the Second Amendment. Plain and simple. I know you probably don’t agree, but there was a sound Fifth Circuit precedent that provided persuasive authority. And just for the record, I didn’t ‘bury’ the bill single-handedly. It was a unanimous opinion. Even my distinguished Clinton-appointee colleague agreed.”
Solid reasoning, even if Ben didn’t much care for the result.
Hammond arched an eyebrow. “What did I tell you, Ben? He’s the real deal.”
“The real what? An honest man?”
“A thinking Republican.”
Ben decided to steer the conversation away from politics and judicial opinions. Christina had prepared an extensive brief on the man’s public life, and as far as Ben could tell, he was a dutiful and honest judge who did his work in a prompt and efficient manner. But there should be something more than a good work ethic in a man who wanted to be considered for a position on the highest court of the land.
“I know you probably don’t want to address specific issues like the death penalty—”
“Reprehensible,” Roush said, without blinking. “I don’t know if any government has the right to take lives. But we certainly don’t, given our gigantic error rate. How many people have been released from death row because DNA evidence proved they didn’t commit the crime of which they were convicted?”
“Over a hundred,” Ben said, more than a little stunned.
“Besides, we all know executions have been applied disparately on racial grounds. If they can target racial minorities, who’s next? I’m familiar with the Jay Wesley Neill case from your home state, Ben. The prosecutor repeatedly referred to the defendant’s homosexuality during his closing plea for the death penalty. He ended up executed by lethal injection—while his partner and co-conspirator got life. Appalling.”
Ben felt his eyes widening of their own accord. That case was a notorious blight on the history of Oklahoma jurisprudence. Although the appeals court criticized the prosecutor’s remarks, the decision was not reversed and the defendant was executed.
“The whole death penalty situation is an international embarrassment,” Roush added. “We run around the world preaching to others about human rights, while simultaneously carrying out a practice considered unjust and inhumane by virtually every other civilized nation.” He drew in a breath. “So, you see, I part ways with my party on this issue.”
And how often did that happen in this day and age? Ben wondered. He glanced at Hammond, who was beaming from ear to ear.
“You’re probably familiar with Senator Hammond’s Environmental Protection Wilderness Bill,” Ben ventured. “My fiancée has been working for months to get that bill to the floor.”
“She must be glad Senator Hammond is in the Senate,” Roush replied. “He’s the only man on earth who could get that bill passed, especially in the current political climate. Ditto for the Poverty bill, and that stands to benefit—what—around three million poor and indigent people?”
“Yes. But the bill hasn’t passed yet.”
“And you’re concerned that even if it does, the Supreme Court will kill it. Not without reason. It does raise some constitutional issues regarding congressional power and the interstate commerce clause that are not frivolous.”
Ben waited. He didn’t want to ask the question.
“Of course,” Roush said, “it would be inappropriate for me to comment on a specific pending law.” He leaned forward and smiled. “But just between you and me, if I killed a piece of environmental legislation, that handsome young man you met a few minutes ago would never forgive me. And if I killed an antipoverty bill, I would never forgive myself.”
Ben tried to be skeptical. “Even if there were constitutional issues involved? The rules say you have to enforce the letter of the law—and damn the result.”
“The rules.” Roush turned his eyes skyward. “Even the most conservative, I’m-opposed-to-judicial-activism jurists in the country apply the rules when and where they see fit, and we all know it. Are you telling me Bush v. Gore was decided based on judicial precedent, or the letter of the Constitution—both of which require judges to stay out of the election process? Nonsense. The Republican members of the Supreme Court saw an opportunity to pick the next President and they took it.” He leaned forward. “I hope you don’t mind, Ben, but I’ve taken the liberty of asking my clerk to do a little checking up on you. It appears to me your whole career has been about applying the rules when it served a righteous cause—and looking the other way when it didn’t.”
“I don’t know about—”
Roush held up his hands. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not accusing you of anything—except maybe being a lawyer who actually cares about his clients. But it seems to me you always keep your eyes on the prize. You do what it takes to see that justice is served. You understand that the rules exist to help people—not the other way around. People come first.” He settled back into his chair. “That’s the kind of Supreme Court justice I’d like to be. You got a problem with that?”
7
Half an hour later, Ben conferred with Minority Leader Hammond in the foyer. Roush had moved on to another senator, Eastwick was at work in his garden, and a few select reporters and photographers had been admitted inside. The place was buzzing like a beehive, swarming with people, disturbing much of the charm and all of the ambience. Nonetheless, Hammond found a semiprivate corner and pulled Ben aside. “So?”
Ben shrugged. “What do you want to know? He’s a charmer. He opposes the death penalty. He’s on what I believe is the morally correct side of many critical social issues, and he’s at least reasonable about the others.” He paused. “Roush is either an incredibly slick con man or the best nominee we could hope for from the current administration.”
“And which do you think it is?”
Ben pursed his lips. “I think he’s the best nominee we could hope for from the current administration.”
“What did I tell you?”
“But I’ve been wrong before. I’m really not that good at judging people.”