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Smerll operated his section on the theory that a crooked lawyer subconsciously wanted to be caught. It was ironic, he thought, and it was tragic, but it was all very true. And good to know. Because sooner or later the errant attorney would send Ethics a gilt-edged invitation to discover him in the very act of his malfeasance. In most cases all Smerll had to do was watch, wait, and pounce. And that, he told himself, is how I will eventually get you, Mr. Lily-white Beckwith.

And sure enough—out of the blue—enter the Arabian courtesan. He remembered her from the Glenwood football game. Was she really just sixteen? Is this a genuine case of contributing to the delinquency of a minor? Or even (dared he hope?) of statutory rape?

Smerll was sitting at his desk and wondering if he had enough to disbar Beckwith, when his secret watch service on Beckett’s docket in the Patent Office faxed him a copy of az-Zahra’s patent application.

“It’s her!” he muttered ungrammatically to himself. He sat down to read. He read every word, some of them twice. “Flying carpet?” he whispered. “Colossal deliberate fraud!” He lifted his eyes to heaven, and he said, “O Lord, I thank thee.”

11. The Notice

METROPOLITAN BAR COMMITTEE

Bar Building, Washington, DC

NOTICE OF HEARING

Greetings to Daniel Beckwith, Esq.

Pursuant to Bar Regulations 36(a) as revised a Hearing will be held in the Hearing Room of the Ethics Section of the Committee one week from your receipt hereof, beginning at nine A.M. and continuing.

The purpose of the hearing is to receive information:

(a) Generally with respect to the fitness of Daniel Beckwith (herein, “Beckwith”) to continue as a member of the Metropolitan Bar; and

(b) Specifically with respect to the following questions.

1. Is Beckwith contributing to the delinquency of a female minor, viz., one az-Zahra?

2. Is Beckwith guilty of statutory rape with respect to said az-Zahra?

3. Has Beckwith unlawfully converted to his own use and behoof assets belonging to said az-Zahra?

4. Has Beckwith aided and abetted illegal entry of the said az-Zahra into the United States?

5. Should said az-Zahra be deported?

6. Has Beckwith conspired with said az-Zahra to smuggle jewels into the United States in violation of 18 USC 545?

7. Has Beckwith filed an application for letters patent in the United States Patent Office, to wit, Serial Number 2537, for Rug, filled with numerous statements that Beckwith knows to be utterly false, deceptive, and misleading?

8. Should said Serial Number 2537 be stricken as fraudulent? (Reference 35 USC 6 and 37 CFR 1.56.)

9. Should Beckwith be stricken from the Register of Patent Attorneys?

10. Should Beckwith be stricken from the Metropolitan Bar?

11. Should Beckwith be referred to the District Attorney for presentation to the Grand Jury?

Within thirty days following the Hearing, the Ethics Section may make recommendations pursuant to Bar regulation 36(b) as to further proceedings, if any.

[signed] Irwin Smerll Director, Ethics Section

It was hand-delivered.

Beckwith’s initial reaction was amazement. For the first time in his life he began to grasp the dimensions of Smerll’s hatred.

His second reaction was dissociation. This couldn’t be happening to him. Smerll must mean someone else.

It took him a full half-hour to reorganize his thoughts and to focus on reality. At least it temporarily took his mind off problems looming with the Space Agency.

He considered the mechanics of his defense. Be there, of course. Argue. Contest each and every charge. And meanwhile the Russian ship was still way ahead of the John F. Kennedy.

Everything was piling up.

12. Scheherazade

At ten o’clock on the night before the hearing Beckwith retired to his bedroom with the Notice, a shot glass, a bottle of brandy, and a copy of Les Miserables. Both the brandy and the great work by Hugo were mementos of events some six years earlier. He had been reading the book, but had laid it aside to cram for the bar exam. In a simultaneous burst of optimism he had bought the brandy with the idea that he would consume a reasonable amount if he passed the bar. He had indeed passed the bar, but in moving from his single room to this apartment the bottle had been stored away, and he had never done his duty by it.

He actually disliked alcohol. It befuddled him. In lunches and dinners with clients he always had ginger ale in lieu of a cocktail. So, he thought as he broke the seal on the bottle, I wonder what this is going to do to me?

At nearly midnight Mrs. Kuiper donned bathrobe and slippers and hurried down the hall to az-Zahra’s room. She knocked once, hesitated, then entered. Simultaneously the night light came on inside.

“I heard it too,” whispered the girl as she pulled on her robe. “Sidi?”

“Yes.”

“Come,” said az-Zahra. She glided out ahead of the other woman.

A moment later they were standing in the hall outside Beckwith’s door. Below the door a thin slice of light shone out. They listened to the singer on the other side. The chant rose and fell.

“What is he singing?” asked the girl.

“It’s something they learn in the military,” said Mrs. Kuiper. “When they do their duty year, you know. Except he’s changing some of the words. You ought not listen to this, dear.”

“He’s stopped.”

“Maybe he’s finally gone to bed,” speculated the housekeeper.

“No, he’s moving around. Listen!” Shouts and curses from inside made the door vibrate. They heard the sound of breaking furniture.

Mrs. Kuiper began wringing her hands. “He has a hearing in the morning. This is terrible!”

A shout vibrated the door. “Smerll, you foul rascal, I see you! Take that!

They heard the shattering of glass.

“Oh dear god!” moaned Mrs. Kuiper. “He shot the mirror!”

“He has a laser?”

“Kept in the drawer in the night table. Oh, poor Mr. Beckwith!”

From inside: “Damn you, Smerll! You won’t get away this time!”

A hole appeared in the hall wall over the door.

“He’s going to kill us all!” shrieked Mrs. Kuiper. She turned away. “I’m going to call the police!”

She found that her wrist was locked within iron talons.

“You will do nothing of the sort,” az-Zahra said coolly. “I know what to do. I’m going in there.”

“He’ll kill you,” stammered the other.

“He will not harm me. He loves me.”

“He’ll… rape you,” faltered Mrs. Kuiper.

“We won’t call it that.” She released the older woman’s wrist. “Now listen, Mrs. Kuiper, you and I are going to get him to his hearing tomorrow, and we’re going to get him there bright and alert and on time. Here’s what we do. I’m going to put him to bed. He’s going to get some sleep. I’ll have him up by eight, shaved, showered, and dressed. I’ll bring him in to you. You will have a good breakfast waiting for him. Waffles and sausage. Coffee, very strong. A little glass of orange juice, with two aspirin at the side. And would you please call tonight and reserve a taxi. We’d like to leave here at eight-thirty.”

Mrs. Kuiper hstened to the calm imperious tones and looked into the regal gray-green eyes, and she realized that the past five minutes had brought a subtle shifting of the power structure within the Beckwith household. In a way, she was glad. It was a great relief to have someone take over. “Yes, miss,” she said quietly.