The Echo of the Whip by Joseph Flynn Read Free Book Online Page A

set the tone and the direction for the country that the executive branch has within its purview. The president, of course, will have the final word on any proposal I put forward.”
    A tingle ran down Didi’s spine. She reached for self-restraint, and missed.
    “Forgive me, Ms. Vice President, if I’m getting off-track here, but you were a star hockey player during your college days.”
    Jean Morrissey responded with a straight face. “Yes, I was.”
    “You excelled at both defense and scoring.”
    “I did fairly well, yes.”
    “In fact, you were named an All-American for your playing prowess, but what comes to mind is a certain game against Great Lakes State.”
    Jean only nodded.
    Didi said, “The star player of the opposing team hit your face with her hockey stick right after you scored a goal.”
    “In the game, it’s called a cross-check,” Jean said. “The stick is held in both hands and used as a blunt instrument. It’s against the rules. In my case, my nose was broken, and the infraction was ruled a major penalty.”
    “But that wasn’t the end of the matter,” Didi said.
    “No, it wasn’t. Even though I was bleeding profusely, I was still conscious. I dropped my hockey gloves and retaliated. I knocked out the opposition player with one punch.”
    In a quiet voice, Didi asked, “Should Congress take any lesson from that incident?”
    The vice president smiled. “I’m not James J. McGill, and I think he was kidding about punching people. I’m certainly not going to hit anyone. But in the coming days Congress will see just what they’ll be getting if the Senate convicts Patricia Grant.”
    In the control booth, Hugh Collier rubbed his hands with glee.

Dupont Circle — Washington, DC
    As a place to live in the capital, Dupont Circle had just about everything going for it. The area had a Walk Score of 98, meaning there was no end of shops, restaurants and entertainment venues within easy walking distance. The streets there were safe, too. Crime was 60% lower than the city average. Of course, all the benefits came at a price. The median cost of a row house came in at $600,000.
    Having moved to DC from the San Francisco Bay Area, Craig MacLaren, chief justice of the United States, was unfazed by the property costs. Bay Area housing prices were even higher and rising faster. His fellow member of the Supreme Court, Associate Justice Daniel Crockett, on the other hand, had paid only one-fifth of the price of his nearby row house for the four-bedroom home he owned in Tennessee.
    Neither man, however, was thinking of real estate or what it cost to become a homeowner in Washington at the moment. Sitting in the chief justice’s den, they’d just finished watching Didi DiMarco interview Jean Morrissey.
    “I think we just saw our next president introduce herself to the American public,” MacLaren said.
    Crockett steepled his hands. “Possibly, Chief, but you never know what might happen.”
    “Are we having a partisan moment here, Daniel?”
    Both men had been appointed to the high court by Patricia Grant. MacLaren, a Democrat, had been the chief judge of the U.S. Ninth Circuit Court; Crockett, a Republican, had been a U.S. Senator from the Volunteer State. The chief justice had been confirmed by little more than a bare majority vote of the Senate; Crockett had been approved overwhelmingly.
    Once seated on the court, though, those numbers became meaningless.
    The chief was the chief. He was considered the senior justice, regardless of length of service on the court. He chaired the conferences in which cases before the court were discussed and voted on. He spoke first in those meetings, setting the tone and direction. Likewise, he set the agenda at the weekly meetings where the justices decided whether to accept or reject petitions for the court to hear a case. Again, in these meetings, he spoke first.
    When voting with the majority, the chief justice also had the power to assign the justice who would