Chapter 26
And With Salutation
"You think you are so smart, that your position protects you," said the Senator as he raised his voice. He locked eyes with the unnerved Langston. He bore into Langston with the repressed rage of a disinherited soul. Lynch cocked his head so as to take his measure of the Clerk. A reptilian glare crossed the Senator's face. "Every man has a weakness, a flaw," said the Senator.
"Senator, I beg your leave," pleaded Langston.
The Senator clinched his mouth, grinding his teeth with raw grit.
"What do I get?" asked the Senator.
"Senator!" exclaimed Langston.
"Errand boy, you heard me. What do I get for granting your master his satisfactions?" said the Senator.
"Senator, may I remind you that you are a member of the State Bar," rejoined Langston.
"And may I remind you there are no innocents in this transaction," threatened the Senator.
"How dare you, Sir," said Langston.
"How dare you, boy," replied Lynch. "You are a boy in a man's game."
Langston tried to rise but the Senator shoved Langston back into his seat.
"In a man's world, there are two types of men -- men who are flawed and men who take advantage of the flaws of others. Your master is a flawed man. Why? He accepted a favor from me and now he is in my debt. He owes me my satisfactions."
The Senator allowed the word "satisfactions" to linger in the air. Langston wanted to leave and tell the Chief Justice everything that had happened. But as he rose to walk out of the Senator's office, the Senator blocked the doorway. The Senator said, "Where do you think you're going?"
Langston said, "The Court's business is none of your business." As Langston tried to shove the Senator out of the way, Langston saw a southern-dressed man in the hallway. The man made eye contact with the Senator. The Senator regained his composure and forgot about Langston. As Langston fled down the hallway, the southerner extended greetings from South Carolina to the Senator.
Langston knocked over a chair as he made haste to leave the Senator's office. The secretary ignored the fleeing Clerk as one might ignore a house servant at work. His heart racing and his chest heaving, Langston pushed open the front doors and stumbled down the front steps. The State Supreme Court building stood three blocks from the Senator's office. He felt humiliated beyond all shame. And like most innocents about the ways of the world, he blamed himself -- "What did I do? How did I insult the Senator? I stood up for ethics, for moral conduct." That a powerful man could be an immoral man jarred Langston's conception of an ordered universe. The law appealed to Langston because of the code of ethics. Lawyers were above reproach. They followed a higher standard of honor than the everyday man. As he crossed Tremont Street, he dreaded reporting the incident to the Chief Justice.
The South Carolinian in the Senator's office refused to give his name. He said things were easier that way. Lynch offered the South Carolinian a seat which he accepted.
"Brandy?" offered Senator Lynch.
"No, thank you, Senator. I believe in separating business from pleasure," said the man.
"Of course, of course," replied Senator Lynch.
The Senator opened up his desk graced with the seal of the United States Senate. He retrieved an unmarked envelope and handed the letter to the South Carolinian. With a matter-of-factness, the visitor opened the letter and counted $500. He placed the money back into the envelope.
"Not enough, Senator," said the southern man.
"What do you mean, not enough?" asked Senator Lynch.
"Pay me $1,000 for 'services rendered,'" said the man.
"These were not the terms of the arrangement," replied the Senator.
"Well, it is a long distance from Boston to Charleston. Perhaps, something was misunderstood along the way. I'm not running an Underground Railroad if you get my meaning," said the man. "Payment is $1,000 for 'services rendered.'"
"Get out of my office now or I will charge you with a crime against a federal officer," threatened the Senator.
The southern man did not blink an eye. He had a weary, resolute look on his face. His eyes dug into the Senator's eyes, communication on a reptilian level. Neither man dropped eye contact.
"Senator, I work with people who care not about crimes alleged. They care about money paid for 'services rendered.' I will give you three days. If I do not receive full payment in three days, then I trust you will sleep well at night," said the man.
"Out of my office, now!" screamed Senator Lynch.
The man left the $500 on the desktop. He rose from his chair with hat in hand. "Boston, I swear it is the Charleston of the North. Good Day, Senator." And with salutation, the man departed.