The Lincoln Lawyer by Michael Connelly
I nodded but didn’t say I would be back. I wouldn’t be. The twelve people who had been so important to me for the last week had just dropped off the radar. They were now as meaningless to me as the drivers going the other way on the freeway. They had gone by and I was finished with them.
The judge left the bench and Smithson was the first one out of the courtroom. He had nothing to say to Minton or me. His first priority was to distance himself from this prosecutorial catastrophe. I looked over and saw Minton’s face had lost all color. I assumed that I would soon see his name in the yellow pages. He would not be retained by the DA and he would join the ranks of the defense pros, his first felony lesson a costly one.
Roulet was at the rail, leaning over to hug his mother. Dobbs had a hand on his shoulder in a congratulatory gesture, but the family lawyer had not recovered from Windsor’s harsh rebuke in the hallway.
When the hugs were over, Roulet turned to me and with hesitation shook my hand.
“I wasn’t wrong about you,” he said. “I knew you were the one.”
“I want the gun,” I said, deadpan, my face showing no joy in the victory just achieved.
“Of course you do.”
He turned back to his mother. I hesitated a moment and then turned back to the defense table. I opened my briefcase to return all the files to it.
“Michael?”
I turned and it was Dobbs reaching a hand across the railing. I shook it and nodded.
“You did good,” Dobbs said, as if I needed to hear it from him. “We all appreciate it greatly.”
“Thanks for the shot. I know you were shaky about me at the start.”
I was courteous enough not to mention Windsor’s outburst in the hallway and what she had said about him backstabbing me.
“Only because I didn’t know you,” Dobbs said. “Now I do. Now I know who to recommend to my clients.”
“Thank you. But I hope your kind of clients never need me.”
He laughed.
“Me, too!”
Then it was Mary Windsor’s turn. She extended her hand across the bar.
“Mr. Haller, thank you for my son.”
“You’re welcome,” I said flatly. “Take care of him.”
“I always do.”
I nodded.
“Why don’t you all go out to the hallway and I’ll be out in a minute. I have to finish up some things here with the clerk and Mr. Minton.”
I turned back to the table. I then went around it and approached the clerk.
“How long before I can get a signed copy of the judge’s order?”
“We’ll enter it this afternoon. We can send you a copy if you don’t want to come back.”
“That would be great. Could you also fax one?”
She said she would and I gave her the number to the fax in Lorna Taylor’s condominium. I wasn’t sure yet how it could be used but I had to believe that an order to dismiss could somehow help me get a client or two.
When I turned back to get my briefcase and leave I noticed that Detective Sobel had left the courtroom. Only Minton remained. He was standing and gathering his things.
“Sorry I never got the chance to see your PowerPoint thing,” I said.
He nodded.
“Yeah, it was pretty good. I think it would have won them over.”
I nodded.
“What are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know. See if I can ride this out and somehow hold on to my job.”
He put his files under his arm. He had no briefcase. He only had to go down to the second floor. He turned and gave me a hard stare.
“The only thing I know is that I don’t want to cross the aisle. I don’t want to become like you, Haller. I think I like sleeping at night too much for that.”
With that he headed through the gate and strode out of the courtroom. I glanced over at the clerk to see if she had heard what he had said. She acted like she hadn’t.
I took my time following Minton out. I picked up my briefcase and turned backwards as I pushed through the gate. I looked at the judge’s empty bench and the state seal on the front panel. I nodded at nothing in particular and then walked out.
FORTY-FOUR
R oulet and his entourage were waiting for me in the hallway. I looked both ways and saw Sobel down by the elevators. She was on her cell phone and it seemed as though she was waiting for an elevator but it didn’t look like the down button was lit.
“Michael, can you join us for lunch?” Dobbs said upon seeing me. “We are going to celebrate!”
I noticed that he was now calling me by my given name. Victory made everybody friendly.
“Uh . . . ,” I said, still looking down at Sobel. “I don’t think I can make it.”
“Why not? You obviously don’t have court in the afternoon.”
I finally looked at Dobbs. I felt like saying that I couldn’t have lunch because I never wanted to see him or Mary Windsor or Louis Roulet again.
“I think I’m going to stick around and talk to the jurors when they come back at one.”
“Why?” Roulet asked.
“Because it will help me to know what they were thinking and where we stood.”
Dobbs gave me a clap on the upper arm.
“Always learning, always getting better for the next one. I don’t blame you.”
He looked delighted that I would not be joining them. And for good reason. He probably wanted me out of the way now so he could work on repairing his relationship with Mary Windsor. He wanted that franchise account just to himself again.
I heard the muted bong of the elevator and looked back down the hall. Sobel was standing in front of the opening elevator. She was leaving.
But then Lankford, Kurlen and Booker stepped out of the elevator and joined Sobel. They turned and started walking toward us.
“Then we’ll leave you to it,” Dobbs said, his back to the approaching detectives. “We have a reservation at Orso and I’m afraid we’re already going to be late getting back over the hill.”
“Okay,” I said, still looking down the hall.
Dobbs, Windsor and Roulet turned to walk away just as the four detectives got to us.
“Louis Roulet,” Kurlen announced. “You are under arrest. Turn around, please, and place your hands behind your back.”
“No!” Mary Windsor shrieked. “You can’t —”
“What is this?” Dobbs cried out.
Kurlen didn’t answer or wait for Roulet to comply. He stepped forward and roughly turned Roulet around. As he made the forced turn, Roulet’s eyes came to mine.
“What’s going on, Mick?” he said in a calm voice. “This shouldn’t be happening.”
Mary Windsor moved toward her son.
“Take your hands off of my son!”
She grabbed Kurlen from behind but Booker and Lankford quickly moved in and detached her, handling her gently but strongly.
“Ma’am, step back,” Booker commanded. “Or I will put you in jail.”
Kurlen started giving Roulet the Miranda warning. Windsor stayed back but was not silent.
“How dare you? You cannot do this!”
Her body moved in place and she looked as though unseen hands were keeping her from charging at Kurlen again.
“Mother,” Roulet said in a tone that carried more weight and control than any of the detectives.
Windsor’s body relented. She gave up. But Dobbs didn’t.
“You’re arresting him for what?” he demanded.
“Suspicion of murder,” Kurlen said. “The murder of Martha Renteria.”
“That’s impossible!” Dobbs cried. “Everything that witness Corliss said in there was proven to be a lie. Are you crazy? The judge dismissed the case because of his lies.”
Kurlen broke from his recital of Roulet’s rights and looked at Dobbs.
“If it was all a lie, how’d you know he was talking about Martha Renteria?”
Dobbs realized his mistak
“Yeah, I thought so,” he said.
He grabbed Roulet by an elbow and turned him back around.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“Mick?” Roulet said.
“Detective Kurlen,” I said. “Can I talk to my client for a moment?”
Kurlen looked at me, seemed to measure something in me and then nodded.
“One minute. Tell him to behave himself and it will all go a lot easier for him.”
He shoved Roulet toward me. I took him by one arm and walked him a few paces away from the others so we would have privacy if we kept our voices down. I stepped close to him and began in a whisper.
“This is it, Louis. This is good-bye. I got you off. Now you’re on your own. Get yourself a new lawyer.”
The shock showed in his eyes. Then his face clouded over with a tightly focused anger. It was pure rage and I realized it was the same rage Regina Campo and Martha Renteria must have seen.
“I won’t need a lawyer,” he said to me. “You think they can make a case off of what you somehow fed to that lying snitch in there? You better think again.”
“They won’t need the snitch, Louis. Believe me, they’ll find more. They probably already have more.”
“What about you, Mick? Aren’t you forgetting something? I have —”
“I know. But it doesn’t matter anymore. They don’t need my gun. They’ve already got all they need. But whatever happens to me, I’ll know that I put you down. At the end, after the trial and all the appeals, when they finally stick that needle in your arm, that will be me, Louis. Remember that.”
I smiled with no humor and moved in closer.
“This is for Raul Levin. You might not go down for him but make no mistake, you are going down.”
I let that register for a moment and then stepped back and nodded to Kurlen. He and Booker came up on either side of Roulet and took hold of his upper arms.
“You set me up,” Roulet said, somehow maintaining his calm. “You aren’t a lawyer. You work for them.”
“Let’s go,” Kurlen said.
They started moving him but he shook them off momentarily and put his raging eyes right back into mine.
“This isn’t the end, Mick,” he said. “I’ll be out by tomorrow morning. What will you do then? Think about it. What are you going to do then? You can’t protect everybody.”
They took a tighter hold of him and roughly turned him toward the elevators. This time Roulet went without a struggle. Halfway down the hall toward the elevator, his mother and Dobbs trailing behind, he turned his head to look back over his shoulder at me. He smiled and it sent something right through me.
You can’t protect everybody.
A cold shiver of fear pierced my chest.
Someone was waiting for the elevator and it opened just as the entourage got there. Lankford signaled the person back and took the elevator. Roulet was hustled in. Dobbs and Windsor were about to follow when they were halted by Lankford’s hand extended in a stop signal. The elevator door started to close and Dobbs angrily and impotently pushed on the button next to it.
My hope was that it would be the last I would ever see of Louis Roulet, but the fear stayed locked in my chest, fluttering like a moth caught inside a porch light. I turned away and almost walked right into Sobel. I hadn’t noticed that she had stayed behind the others.
“You have enough, don’t you?” I said. “Tell me you wouldn’t have moved so quickly if you didn’t have enough to keep him.”
She looked at me a long moment before answering.
“We won’t decide that. The DA will. Probably depends on what they get out of him in interrogation. But up till now he’s had a pretty smart lawyer. He probably knows not to say a word to us.”
“Then why didn’t you wait?”
“Wasn’t my call.”
I shook my head. I wanted to tell her that they had moved too fast. It wasn’t part of the plan. I wanted to plant the seed, that’s all. I wanted them to move slowly and get it right.
The moth fluttered inside and I looked down at the floor. I couldn’t shake the idea that all of my machinations had failed, leaving me and my family exposed in the hard-eyed focus of a killer. You can’t protect everybody.
It was as if Sobel read my fears.
“But we’re going to try to keep him,” she said. “We have what the snitch said in court and the ticket. We’re working on witnesses and the forensics.”
My eyes came up to hers.
“What ticket?”
A look of suspicion entered her face.
“I thought you had it figured out. We put it together as soon as the snitch mentioned the snake dancer.”
“Yeah. Martha Renteria. I got that. But what ticket? What are you talking about?”
I had moved in too close to her and Sobel took a step back from me. It wasn’t my breath. It was my desperation.
“I don’t know if I should tell you, Haller. You’re a defense lawyer. You’re his lawyer.”
“Not anymore. I just quit.”
“Doesn’t matter. He —”
“Look, you just took that guy down because of me. I might get disbarred because of it. I might even go to jail for a murder I didn’t commit. What ticket are you talking about?”
She hesitated and I waited, but then she finally spoke.
“Raul Levin’s last words. He said he found Jesus’s ticket out.”
“Which means what?”
“You really don’t know, do you?”
“Look, just tell me. Please.”
She relented.
“We traced Levin’s most recent movements. Before he was murdered he had made inquiries about Roulet’s parking tickets. He even pulled hard copies of them. We inventoried what he had in the office and eventually compared it with what’s on the computer. He was missing one ticket. One hard copy. We didn’t know if his killer took it that day or if he had just missed pulling it. So we went and pulled a copy ourselves. It was issued two years ago on the night of April eighth. It was a citation for parking in front of a hydrant in the sixty-seven-hundred block of Blythe Street in Panorama City.”
It all came together for me, like the last bit of sand dropping through the middle of an hourglass. Raul Levin really had found Jesus Menendez’s salvation.
“Martha Renteria was murdered two years ago on April eighth,” I said. “She lived on Blythe in Panorama City.”
“Yes, but we didn’t know that. We didn’t see the connection. You told us that Levin was working separate cases for you. Jesus Menendez and Louis Roulet were separate investigations. Levin had them filed that way, too.”
“It was a discovery issue. He kept the cases separate so I wouldn’t have to turn over anything on Roulet that he came up with on Menendez.”
“One of your lawyer angles. Well, it stopped us from putting it together until that snitch in there mentioned the snake dancer. That connected everything.”
I nodded.
“So whoever killed Raul Levin took the hard copy?”
“We think.”
“Did you check Raul’s phones for a tap? Somehow somebody knew he found the ticket.”
“We did. They were clear. Bugs could have been removed at the time of the murder. Or maybe it was someone else’s phone that was tapped.”
Meaning mine. Meaning it might explain how Roulet knew so many of my moves and was even conveniently waiting for me in my home the night I had come home from seeing Jesus Menendez.
“I will have them checked,” I said. “Does all of this mean I am clear on Raul’s murder?”
“Not necessarily,” Sobel said. “We still want to see what comes back from ballistics. We’re hoping for something today.”
I nodded. I didn’t know how to respond. Sobel lingered, looking like she wanted to tell me or ask me something.
“What?” I said.
“I don’t know. Is there anything you want to tell me
“I don’t know. There’s nothing to tell.”
“Really? In the courtroom it seemed like you were trying to tell us a lot.”
I was silent a moment, trying to read between the lines.
“What do you want from me, Detective Sobel?”
“You know what I want. I want Raul Levin’s killer.”
“Well, so do I. But I couldn’t give you Roulet on Levin even if I wanted to. I don’t know how he did it. And that’s off the record.”
“So that still leaves you in the crosshairs.”
She looked down the hall at the elevators, her implication clear. If the ballistics matched, I could still have a problem on Levin. They would use it as leverage. Give up how Roulet did it or go down for it myself. I changed the subject.
“How long do you think before Jesus Menendez gets out?” I asked.
She shrugged.
“Hard to say. Depends on the case they build against Roulet—if they have a case. But I know one thing. They can’t prosecute Roulet as long as another man is in prison for the same crime.”
I turned and walked over to the glass wall. I put my free hand on the railing that ran along the glass. I felt a mixture of elation and dread and that moth still batting around in my chest.
“That’s all I care about,” I said quietly. “Getting him out. That and Raul.”
She came over and stood next to me.
“I don’t know what you are doing,” she said. “But leave the rest for us.”
“I do that and your partner will probably put me in jail for a murder I didn’t commit.”
“You are playing a dangerous game,” she said. “Leave it alone.”
I looked at her and then back down at the plaza.
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll leave it alone now.”
Having heard what she needed to, she made a move to go.
“Good luck,” she said.
I looked at her again.
“Same to you.”
She left then and I stayed. I turned back to the window and looked down into the plaza. I saw Dobbs and Windsor crossing the concrete squares and heading toward the parking garage. Mary Windsor was leaning against her lawyer for support. I doubted they were still headed to lunch at Orso.