Con Law by Mark Gimenez Page B

in the rankings, and the students would lose. Henry Lawson would not be the new assistant dean. He would not be granted tenure. Not that year. Not any year. He was the best teacher on the faculty, but he would soon be teaching at another law school. Or perhaps at a high school.
    Other professorsstood and championed their protégés. Book slumped down in his chair and felt something in his back pocket. He pulled out the envelope Nadine had given him. It was postmarked ‘Marfa, Texas,’ on April 5, four days before. He removed the letter, unfolded the single sheet, and read the handwritten note.
    Dear Professor Bookman,
    Remember me? Nathan Jones? I was your intern for one month four years ago. I’m sorry I quit so abruptly back then, but I didn’t want to die before getting my law degree. (Just kidding.) Anyway, I’m married now, my wife’s pregnant, and I’m a third-year associate at the Dunn firm in West Texas. I work in our Marfa office which we established to represent our largest client, an oil and gas company. Mostly gas. They’re fracking in the Woodford shale field north of town. Professor, our client is contaminating the aquifer with the frack fluids. I have proof. That aquifer is the sole source of drinking water for this part of West Texas. I took the matter to my senior partner in Midland. He told me to keep my mouth shut, that any information I have is confidential under our ethics rules. Which means if I go public, I’ll get disbarred. So I’m required to keep this secret while our client contaminates the aquifer with toxic chemicals. That doesn’t seem right. But I don’t know what to do. Can you help me? Funny. Now I’m writing one of those letters to you.
    Regards,
    Nathan
    PS: I think someone followed me home last night. My wife is scared.
    Book walkeddown the corridor at a fast pace then stopped and stuck his head into Henry’s office. Henry looked up.
    ‘I’m sorry, Henry.’
    ‘They know I voted for Bush?’
    Book nodded.
    ‘Damn.’
    Book continued down the hall. He had secured tenure four years before, at age thirty-one. Clerking for Justice Kennedy, winning two Supreme Court cases, and making the shortlist of potential candidates for the Court does that sort of thing for a law professor. The law school would be embarrassed to have a faculty member nominated for the Supreme Court but denied tenure. Henry Lawson was not a Supreme Court candidate.
    Nor was he a celebrity law professor.
    Book was. After his Supreme Court clerkship, he could have taught at any law school in America. But he came home to be near his mother after she had been diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s. Eight years later, she still lived in the same house where she had raised her children, but she did not know her children and could not find her way home. Book entered the outer office of his suite. Myrna held pink message slips in the air.
    ‘Your sister called. She wants to put your mother in a home.’
    ‘Did you tell her, “Hell no”?’
    Myrna knew not to answer. ‘And James Welch called.’
    ‘Who’s he?’
    ‘Our boss. Chairman of the Board of Regents. Appointed by the governor himself.’
    ‘Another billionaire alumnus wanting to fire me because he didn’t like what I said on
Face the Nation
.’
    ‘He doesn’t want to fire you. He wants to hire you.’
    ‘For what?’
    ‘Didn’t say. Might have something to do with his son.’
    ‘Who’s his son?’
    ‘Sophomore. Arrested for drug possession. On Sixth Street. It made the paper.’
    Book took the pink slip. ‘I’ll call him from Marfa.’
    ‘
Marfa?
’ She groaned. ‘Oh, no, not another letter.’
    Book wavedNathan Jones’s letter in the air as he walked into his office where Nadine Honeywell still sat reading his mail. He grabbed the crash helmet off the bookshelf and held it out to her. She frowned at the helmet as if it were a bloody murder weapon.
    ‘What’s thatfor?’

Chapter 4

    ‘I’m hungry, my butt’s numb, and I think