Yes. That's right.
The whole court is in turmoil.
Couldn't have happened
at a more inconvenient time.
No, Dan doesn't know.
That's why I'm calling you. I've got
to get through to him right away.
- Just a moment.
- Excuse me, Mr. Chief Justice.
- This is the file you asked for.
- Oh, yeah.
Thank God I caught you, Christine.
Have you any idea where he went?
What makes you think I'd
know where he is? Dan?
Dan?
No, he's not here. I just walked
through the door, C.J.
- Oh? Where have you been?
- Europe, as usual.
Stanley left some instructions that
involve Dan, and I've got to find him.
He surprised the hell out of me in
Brussels. He sent me a postcard.
The only part I can make out is
"Dear Christine".
At least I think that's "dear".
You know what his handwriting is like.
And then there's something
here about climbing a mountain.
Did he happen to
mention which mountain?
See that peak straight ahead?
That's where we'll be
tomorrow at this time.
Grab a couple of lungs full of this.
Pity the poor bastards in the cities
who don't get to taste
real air anymore.
Can we take a rest?
Another 30 minutes.
I know a great place for lunch.
Just hold on. I'm looking for it.
- "D. Snow". Would that be it?
- That's it.
Mr. Snow is a justice of the
United States Supreme Court.
Do you have a number there?
I do. I do indeed.
Area code, 202-252-3271.
- Hello? Do you read? Over.
- Yes, I read you.
Press the button to talk.
The little one on the top
with your thumb. There.
Hello, hello. Come in, please.
Come in, please.
Dan?
Hold on, Washington. I'm patching
you through on another channel.
- Go ahead, Highport.
- Do you hear me there? Hello?
- Dan Snow here. Is that you, C.J.?
- We need you back here, Dan.
Couldn't hear that. Say it again,
will you, C.J.?
Stanley Moorehead
died this morning.
Are you still there, Dan?
I say, Stanley Moorehead
died this morning.
- I'm still here. I heard you.
- You gotta press to talk.
Heard you, C.J. Tell Alice I'm sorry.
Well, how fast can you get back here?
You see, Stanley asked if you...
Hello? Hello?
Hello?
Hello? Hello, Jeff?
Up here, CB patches
pick up a lot of DX noise.
- You want me to try to get him again?
- No. We'll be getting down the hill.
Thou preparest a table before me
in the presence of mine enemies.
Thou anointest my head with oil.
My cup runneth over.
Surely, goodness and mercy shall
follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house
of the Lord forever.
I don't really know...
When Stanley left instructions
that he wanted me to...
What do you call it?
Say a few words. I was surprised.
Mr. Justice Moorehead and I disagreed
on upon a lot of things in our lifetimes,
and I guess it's only natural that
we'd keep right on disagreeing.
I know seven other men
who could do this better,
but I'm not about to file
a dissenting opinion.
Stanley Moorehead was
a gentleman of honest mind.
You can't say that about many
men in this city, in this century.
Stanley and I were like
a pair of flying buttresses.
Leaning on opposite
sides of a Gothic cathedral,
we helped keep the
roof from caving in.
If we'd been on the
same side all the time,
we might have pushed
the building over.
Don't have to agree with a man
in order to respect him.
Stanley and I had one argument
over and over again.
I never won it. I never could win.
He used to ask me,
"What in God's name is the practical
use of mountain climbing?"
One time I said to him,
"Well, on a mountaintop, maybe
you're a little bit closer to God."
He laughed and said, "Dan, what
the hell do you know about God?"
I do know this.
Mr. Justice Stanley Moorehead is not
in a box about to be covered by earth.
He's at the top of a mountain,
higher than I have ever climbed.
Fire!
Ready! Aim! Fire!
Ready! Aim! Fire!
Ready! Present arms.
We should've hired
a limousine like the