“So did I.”
The attorney swallowed.
“I mean if anyone needs a statement.”
Avery said:
“Court staff will collect witness information.”
Nathaniel nodded toward her.
“Thank you.”
Then he climbed the steps.
Water squished faintly inside one shoe.
That almost made him laugh.
Inside the courthouse, Nathaniel entered a private robing room used for visiting judges.
Avery found a towel.
A clerk named Marissa Chen brought a replacement white shirt from an emergency wardrobe kept for exactly the sort of professional mishap no one had imagined would involve a bottle of water and a police officer.
The suit could not be saved immediately.
Nathaniel removed the jacket.
His vest was soaked.
His tie darker down the center.
Marissa looked furious.
She tried to hide it.
Failed.
“Judge Hayes.”
“Yes?”
“I am so sorry.”
Nathaniel looked at her.
“You didn't pour it.”
“No.”
“But this happened here.”
“Yes.”
“That distinction matters.”
Marissa nodded.
Avery remained near the door.
“You want the conference delayed?”
“No.”
“You're sure?”
“No.”
Nathaniel removed his tie.
“I’m sure I do not want thirty-two judges sitting around discussing me as though I have been hospitalized by drinking water.”
Avery almost smiled.
“Fair.”
Nathaniel changed shirts.
The emergency wardrobe contained no vest his size.
He kept his wet trousers.
Accepted a dark blue loaner jacket from Avery.
The shoulders were slightly wrong.
Nathaniel looked at himself in the mirror.
“Terrible.”
Avery said:
“It was tailored in 2009.”
“That explains the crime.”
Marissa laughed before she could stop herself.
Good.
The room needed it.
Then Avery became serious.
“Professional Responsibility will need you.”
“I know.”
“Today?”
“Yes.”
“You don't have to give a statement immediately.”
“I know.”
Avery hesitated.
“Was there physical contact before the water?”
“No.”
“Threat?”
“No.”
“Did you identify yourself?”
“I stated my name.”
“Title?”
“No.”
Avery frowned.
Nathaniel looked at him.
“I said I was expected through judicial access.”
“Officer Malloy asked for proof.”
“I offered credentials.”
“He told me not to reach into my coat.”
“I stopped.”
“Then he ordered me toward the public line.”
Avery’s expression tightened.
“Why didn't you tell him ‘Judge Hayes’?”
Nathaniel looked at the mirror.
“Because he never asked what Hayes meant.”
Avery understood.
That answer would matter later.
At 9:42, Nathaniel entered the judicial conference twenty-seven minutes late.
Thirty-two judges and administrators sat around a long table.
Conversation stopped.
Chief Judge Eleanor Whitmore looked up.
“Nathaniel.”
He raised one hand.
“I am fine.”
That only made everyone more curious.
A judge from New York looked at the borrowed jacket.
“You dress like Avery now?”
“Against my will.”
Some laughter.
Then Eleanor saw his damp collar.
“What happened?”
Nathaniel took his seat.
“Security misunderstanding.”
Avery, standing near the door, said nothing.
Eleanor’s eyes narrowed.
“How significant a misunderstanding?”
Nathaniel opened the conference packet.
“Significant enough that there will be a report.”
“Not significant enough to postpone the agenda.”
One judge started to ask more.
Nathaniel looked at him.
The question died.
The conference continued.
For two hours they discussed federal appellate procedure, courthouse threat assessments, and emergency continuity planning.
The irony was not lost on Nathaniel.
At 12:11, he left.
Outside the conference room waited two investigators from the Supreme Court Police Office of Professional Responsibility.
Lead investigator Caroline Mercer was forty-eight, white, with dark blond hair and the calm expression of someone who had learned never to reveal conclusions while collecting facts.
Beside her stood Elliot Price, fifty-two, Black, former federal prosecutor.
Caroline introduced herself.
“Judge Hayes, we can schedule later.”
Nathaniel shook his head.
“Now is better.”
They moved to a small interview room.
Recorder.
Water.
Ironically.
Nathaniel looked at the bottle.
Caroline noticed.
“I can remove that.”
He smiled faintly.
“No.”
They began.
“State your full name.”
“Nathaniel James Hayes.”
“Current position?”
“Senior Judge, United States Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit.”
“Age?”
“Sixty-seven.”
“Purpose at the Supreme Court today?”
“Invited closed judicial conference.”
“Scheduled entry?”
“Judicial access, east side.”
“What time did you arrive?”
“Approximately 8:58.”
“Did anyone meet you?”
“No.”
“Was someone supposed to?”
“A clerk had been assigned, but I arrived early.”
“Why?”
“Traffic was lighter than expected.”
“Did you know Officer Malloy?”
“No.”
“Any prior contact?”
“No.”
Caroline nodded.
“Tell us what happened.”
Nathaniel did.
He did not embellish.
That discipline came from forty-one years in law.
At 8:59, he approached the restricted staircase.
Malloy stopped him.
Asked destination.
Nathaniel said:
“Judicial conference.”
Malloy replied:
“Public visitors use the opposite entrance.”
Nathaniel said he was not a public visitor.
Malloy asked:
“You an attorney?”
Nathaniel answered:
“No.”
Malloy said:
“Then public entrance.”
Nathaniel gave his name.
Malloy looked at a printed access sheet attached to a clipboard.
He did not appear to search carefully.
Nathaniel offered identification.
Malloy instructed him not to reach inside his coat.
Nathaniel complied.
Then suggested Malloy radio security administration.
Malloy responded:
“I don't call upstairs every time somebody thinks they’re special.”
Caroline paused.
“Exact?”
Nathaniel thought.
“Nearly exact.”
“Do you remember whether he said ‘special’ or ‘important’?”
“Special.”
“Good.”
Continue.
Nathaniel remained near the side because the public line had become crowded.
Malloy told him to move.
Nathaniel said he would wait while identity was verified.
Malloy refused.
Then:
“You people always show up without paperwork and expect everyone else to fix it.”
Nathaniel asked what “you people” meant.
Malloy said:
“Visitors.”
Then the lawyers arrived.
One asked whether Nathaniel needed help.
Malloy told her:
“He needs to learn where he belongs.”
Caroline stopped again.
“Exact?”
“Yes.”
Elliot Price looked up.
Nathaniel continued.
He asked Malloy for a supervisor.
Malloy became angrier.
Said Nathaniel was “making a scene.”
Nathaniel pointed out he had not raised his voice.
Malloy walked to the security table.
Picked up a water bottle.
Nathaniel assumed he intended to drink it.
Instead Malloy opened it.
Then poured.
Caroline’s expression remained neutral.
Elliot’s did not.
He looked briefly toward the wall.
Recovered.
Caroline asked:
“Did you move toward him?”
“No.”
“Threaten?”
“No.”
“Touch him?”
“No.”
“Refuse to leave federal property?”
“I refused to enter the public line because my access instructions directed me elsewhere.”
“Did Malloy explain that your presence presented a security issue?”