Maybe my thinking had been off. Since when had I looked at a murder and not bothered to see each suspect in person?
Justice Robert Steinberg was a moderate with good bipartisan support. He had a trim figure and a steady stride that radiated athletic vitality. He looked younger than his forty-one years. He shied away from all the talk in the media about being the youngest justice ever appointed to the Supreme Court.
It didn’t take me long to catch up to the justice. As I edged closer, I could see the resemblance to his sister. The justice was fit, but few people outside the US Navy SEALs could rival Beth’s level of fitness.
He picked up a couple of things in the paint department and was heading toward the rear of the cavernous store. And no one recognized him. Not one person. If Steinberg had been an actor or singer, he would’ve been mobbed. But no one recognized one of the most influential people in the US.
I tried to anticipate where he’d go. I got ahead of him and waited.
Chapter 61
I decided to make my move in plumbing. The justice was meticulously inspecting three or four brands of toilet parts. I suppose close study is how one becomes a successful lawyer, college professor, and Supreme Court justice.
Interviewing well-known people can breed false familiarity, the feeling of knowing them from TV or movies or speeches. In fact, all you’re seeing is the character they play. I don’t care who you are or what you investigate, having a preconceived notion about a suspect influences the interview.
I once interviewed a well-known music producer who was accused of running down a rival with his SUV. I’d seen the music producer on TV and concluded he might’ve been talented making albums, but he wasn’t particularly smart. At least in the way we normally define smart people.
It wasn’t till we got into the interview, with his attorney present, that I learned he was a graduate of the University of Michigan and had earned a master’s degree in accounting before his music career had taken off.
I didn’t need that surprise right at the beginning of our interview. It turned out, even with a master’s from a good school like the University of Michigan, the music producer had poor judgment. And a temper. That combination rarely works out well. In fact, he had threatened his rival the night before, and the rival’s girlfriend had the voicemail recording.
Eventually he pled guilty to manslaughter, and he was still at a prison in upstate New York. Common sense is always more important than money or even a decent education. The problem is that you can’t teach common sense.
I stood, looking up at a wall full of replacement parts for sinks. Like a fisherman, I remained patient. I was letting my fish swim toward me. The justice moved on from toilet parts until he was about five feet away from me.
That’s when he surprised me. Maybe shocked is a better word.
Justice Steinberg turned to me just as I was glancing in his direction. His brown eyes showed no concern or apprehension. He just looked at me and said, “I wondered how close you’d try to come to me in here.”
My throat went dry. I could think of nothing to say. Then I blurted out, “So you know who I am?”
He chuckled. “Detective Bennett, at this point everyone in Washington, DC, knows who you are. It’s just that most people don’t realize what you are.”
“A homicide detective.”
The justice smiled and said, “I was thinking more along the lines of a giant pain in the ass.”
Chapter 62
Justice Steinberg and I squared off in the aisle. Faucet displays and toilet parts were our audience. When I say squared off, I mean it figuratively. We faced each other. Each assessing the other.
The justice was a hair under six feet tall. He had sort of that rugged outdoorsman look. It always went well with an Ivy League education. Not to mention the money his family had or the money he had married into. It looked like he was working just a little too hard at being a “regular guy.”
Steinberg smiled. “You may want to make this quick. My sister is meeting me here to look at kitchen appliances.” He made a show of looking up and down the empty aisle. Then he stared straight at me, a grin still on his face. “You’re familiar with my sister, Beth, aren’t you?”
His smile told me there were few secrets between the two of them. It also told me he didn’t care how physical she got with me. He impressed me as one of those jerks who thinks they’re better than everyone else and above the rules.
I tried to keep cool. “Yes, I’ve met your sister.” I rubbed my temple where she’d kicked me. “She makes quite the impression.”