jg.thepelicanbrief-第3部分

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　and　burial。　Distraught；　Ronald　sued　the　family；　claiming　emotional　and　psychological　damage。　The　case　had　bounced　around　the　lower　courts　for　six　years；　and　now　had　suddenly　found　itself　sitting　on　Jensen's　desk。　
　　
　　At　issue　was　the　rights　of　spouses　of　gays。　Dumond　had　bee　a　battle　cry　for　gay　activists。　The　mere　mention　of　Dumond　had　caused　street　fights。　
　　
　　And　Jensen　had　the　case。　The　door　to　his　smaller　office　was　closed。　Jensen　and　his　three　clerks　sat　around　the　conference　table。　They　had　spent　two　hours　on　Dumond；　and　gone　nowhere。　They　were　tired　of　arguing。　One　clerk；　a　liberal　from　Cornell；　wanted　a　broad　pronouncement　granting　sweeping　rights　to　gay　partners。　Jensen　wanted　this　too；　but　was　not　ready　to　admit　it。　The　other　two　clerks　were　skeptical。　They　knew；　as　did　Jensen；　that　a　majority　of　five　would　be　impossible。　
　　
　　Talk　turned　to　other　matters。
　　
　　〃The　Chiefs　ticked　off　at　you；　Glenn；〃　said　the　clerk　from　Duke。　They　called　him　by　his　first　name　in　chambers。　〃Justice〃　was　such　an　awkward　title。　
　　
　　Glenn　rubbed　his　eyes。　〃What　else　is　new？〃
　　
　　〃One　of　his　clerks　wanted　me　to　know　that　the　Chief　and　the　FBI　are　worried　about　your　safety。　Says　you're　not　cooperating；　and　the　Chiefs　rather　disturbed。　He　wanted　me　to　pass　it　along。〃　Everything　was　passed　along　through　the　clerks'　network。　Everything。
　　
　　〃He's　supposed　to　be　worried。　That's　his　job。〃
　　
　　〃He　wants　to　assign　two　more　Fibbies　as　bodyguards；　and　they　want　access　to　your　apartment。　And　the　FBI　wants　to　drive　you　to　and　from　work。　And　they　want　to　restrict　your　travel。〃
　　
　　〃I've　already　heard　this。〃
　　
　　〃Yeah；　we　know。　But　the　Chiefs　clerk　said　the　Chief　wants　us　to　prevail　upon　you　to　cooperate　with　the　FBI　so　that　they　can　save　your　life。〃
　　
　　〃I　see。〃
　　
　　〃And　so　we're　just　prevailing　upon　you。〃
　　
　　〃Thanks。　Go　back　to　the　network　and　tell　the　Chiefs　clerk　that　you　not　only　prevailed　upon　me　but　you　raised　all　sorts　of　hell　with　me　and　that　I　appreciated　all　of　your　prevailing　and　hell…raising；　but　it　went　in　one　ear　and　out　the　other。　Tell　them　Glenn　considers　himself　a　big　boy。〃
　　
　　〃Sure；　Glenn。　You're　not　afraid；　are　you？〃
　　
　　〃Not　in　the　least。〃　
　　
　　*　　*　　*
　　
　　HOMAS　CALLAHAN　was　one　of　Tulane's　more　popular　professors；　primarily　because　he　refused　to　schedule　classes　before　11　A。M。　He　drank　a　lot；　as　did　most　of　his　students；　and　for　him　the　first　few　hours　of　each　morning　were　needed　for　sleep；　then　resuscitation。　Nine　and　ten　o'clock　classes　were　abominations。　He　was　also　popular　because　he　was　coolfaded　jeans；　tweed　jackets　with　well…worn　elbow　patches；　no　socks；　no　ties。　The　liberal…chic…academic　look。　He　was　forty…five；　but　with　dark　hair　and　horn…rimmed　glasses　he　could　pass　for　thirty…five；　not　that　he　gave　a　damn　how　old　he　looked。　He　shaved　once　a　week；　when　it　started　itching；　and　when　the　weather　was　cool；　which　was　seldom　in　New　Orleans；　he　would　grow　a　beard。　He　had　a　history　of　closeness　with　female　students。　
　　
　　He　was　also　popular　because　he　taught　constitutional　law；　a　most　unpopular　course　but　a　required　one。　Due　to　his　sheer　brilliance　and　coolness　he　actually　made　con　law　interesting。　No　one　else　at　Tulane　could　do　this。　No　one　wanted　to；　really；　so　the　students　fought　to　sit　in　con　law　under　Callahan　at　eleven；　three　mornings　a　week。
　　
　　Eighty　of　them　sat　behind　six　elevated　rows　and　whispered　as　Callahan　stood　in　front　of　his　desk　and　cleaned　his　glasses。　It　was　exactly　five　after　eleven；　still　too　early；　he　thought。
　　
　　〃Who　understands　Rosenberg's　dissent　in　Nash　v。　New　Jersey？〃　All　heads　lowered　and　the　room　was　silent。　Must　be　a　bad　hangover。　His　eyes　were　red。　When　he　started　with　Rosenberg　it　usually　meant　a　rough　lecture。　No　one　volunteered。　Nash？　Callahan　looked　slowly；　methodically　around　the　room；　and　waited。　Dead　silence。　
　　
　　The　doorknob　clicked　loudly　and　broke　the　tension。　The　door　opened　quickly　and　an　attractive　young　female　in　tight　washed　jeans　and　a　cotton　sweater　slid　elegantly　through　it　and　sort　of　glided　along　the　wall　to　the　third　row；　where　she　deftly　maneuvered　between　the　crowded　seats　until　she　came　to　hers　and　sat　down。　The　guys　on　the　fourth　row　watched　in　admiration。　The　guys　on　the　fifth　row　strained　for　a　peek。　For　two　brutal　years　now；　one　of　the　few　pleasures　of　law　school　had　been　to　watch　as　she　graced　the　halls　and　rooms　with　her　long　legs　and　baggy　sweaters。　There　was　a　fabulous　body　in　there　somewhere；　they　could　tell。　But　she　was　not　one　to　flaunt　it。　She　was　just　one　of　the　gang；　and　adhered　to　the　law　school　dress　code　of　jeans　and　flannel　shirts　and　old　sweaters　and　oversized　khakis。　What　they　wouldn't　give　for　a　black　leather　miniskirt。
　　
　　She　flashed　a　quick　smile　at　the　guy　seated　next　to　her；　and　for　a　second　Callahan　and　his　Nash　question　were　forgotten。　Her　dark　red　hair　fell　just　to　the　shoulders。　She　was　that　perfect　little　cheerleader　with　the　perfect　teeth　and　perfect　hair　that　every　boy　fell　in　love　with　at　least　twice　in　high　school。　And　maybe　at　least　once　in　law　school。
　　
　　Callahan　was　ignoring　this　entry。　Had　she　been　a　first…year　student；　and　afraid　of　him；　he　might　have　ripped　into　her　and　screamed　a　few　times。　〃You're　never　late　for　court！〃　was　the　old　standby　law　professors　had　beaten　to　death。　
　　
　　But　Callahan　was　not　in　a　screaming　mood；　and　Darby　Shaw　was　not　afraid　of　him；　and　for　a　split　second　he　wondered　if　anyone　knew　he　was　sleeping　with　her。　Probably　not。　She　had　insisted　on　absolute　secrecy。
　　
　　〃Has　anyone　read　Rosenberg's　dissent　in　Nash　v。　New　Jersey？〃　Suddenly；　he　had　the　spotlight　again；　and　there　was　dead　silence。　A　raised　hand　could　mean　constant　grilling　for　the　next　thirty　minutes。　No　volunteers。　The　smokers　on　the　back　row　fired　up　their　cigarettes。　Most　of　the　eighty　scribbled　aimlessly　on　legal　pads。　All　heads　were　bowed。　It　would　be　too　obvious　and　risky　to　flip　through　the　casebook　and　find　Nash；　too　late　for　that。　Any　movement　might　attract　attention。　Someone　was　about　to　be　nailed。　
　　
　　Nash　was　not　in　the　casebook。　It　was　one　of　a　dozen　minor　cases　Callahan　had　hurriedly　mentioned　a　week　ago；　and　now　he　was　anxious　to　see　if　anyone　had　read　it。　He　was　famous　for　this。　His　final　exam　covered　twelve　hundred　cases；　a　thousand　of　which　were　not　in　the　casebook。　The　exam　was　a　nightmare；　but　he　was　really　a　sweetheart；　a　soft　grader；　and　it　was　a　rare　dumbass　who　flunked　the　course。　
　　
　　He　did　not　appear　to　be　a　sweetheart　at　this　moment。　He　looked　around　the　room。　Time　for　a　victim。　〃How　about　it；　Mr。　Sallinger？　Can　you　explain　Rosenberg's　dissent？〃
　　
　　Instantly　from　the　fourth　row；　Sallinger　said：　〃No　sir。〃
　　
　　〃I　see。　Might　that　be　because　you　haven't　read　Rosenberg's　dissent？〃
　　
　　〃It　might。　Yes　sir。〃
　　
　　Callahan　glared　at　him。　The　red　eyes　made　the　arrogant　scowl　all　the　more　menacing。　Only　Sallinger　saw　it　though；　since　everyone　else　was　glued　to　their　legal　pads。　〃And　why　not？〃
　　
　　〃Because　I　try　not　to　read　dissents。　Especially　Rosenberg's。〃
　　
　　Stupid。　Stupid。　Stupid。　Sallinger　had　opted　to　fight　back；　but　he　had　no　ammo。
　　
　　〃Something　against　Rosenberg；　Mr。　Sallinger？〃
　　
　　Callahan　revered　Rosenberg。　Worshiped　him。　Read　books　about　the　man　and　his　opinions。　Studied　him。　Even　dined　with　him　once。　
　　
　　Sallinger　fidgeted　nervously。　〃Oh　no；　sir。　I　just　don't　like　dissents。〃　
　　
　　There　was　a　bit　of　humor　in　Sallinger's　responses；　but　not　a　smile　was　cracked。　Later；　over　a　beer；　he　and　his　buddies　would　roar　with　laughter　when　it　was　told　and　retold　about　Sallinger　and　his　distaste　for　dissents；　especially　Rosenberg's。　But　not　now。
　　
　　〃I　see。　Do　you　read　majority　opinions？〃
　　
　　Hesitation。　Sallinger's　feeble　attempt　at　sparring　was　about　to　cause　humiliation。Yes　sir。　Lots　of　them。〃
　　
　　〃Great。　Explain；　then；　if　you　will；　the　majority　opinion　in　Nash　v。　New　Jersey。〃　
　　
　　Sallinger　had　never　heard　of　Nash；　but　he　would　now　remember　it　for　the　rest　of　his　legal　career。　〃I　don't　think　I've　read　that　one。〃
　　
　　So　you　don't　read　disse