The Lincoln lawyer - By Michael Connelly Page 0,138
they would come for me and worry about the slug comparison later.
“You still there?” Maggie asked.
“Yeah. I was just thinking of something.”
“You don’t sound so chipper anymore. You want to talk about this, Michael?”
“No, not right now. But if I end up needing a good lawyer, you know who I’ll call.”
“That’ll be the day.”
“You might be surprised.”
I let some more silence into the conversation. Just having her on the other end of the line was a calming comfort. I liked it.
“Haller, I should get back to my job now.”
“Okay, Maggie, put those bad guys away.”
“I will.”
“Good night.”
I closed the phone and thought about things for a few moments, then opened it up again and called the Sheraton Universal to see if they had a room available. I had decided that as a precaution I would not go home this night. There might be two detectives from Glendale waiting for me.
Wednesday, May 25
THIRTY-EIGHT
A fter a sleepless night in a bad hotel bed I got to the courthouse early on Wednesday morning and found no welcoming party, no Glendale detectives waiting with smiles and a warrant for my arrest. A flash of relief went through me as I made my way through the metal detector. I was wearing the same suit I had worn the day before but was hoping no one would notice. I did have a fresh shirt and tie on. I keep spares in the trunk of the Lincoln for summer days when I’m working up in the desert and the car’s air conditioner can get overwhelmed.
When I got to Judge Fullbright’s courtroom I was surprised to find I was not the first of the trial’s players to arrive. Minton was in the gallery, setting up the screen for his PowerPoint presentation. Because the courtroom had been designed before the era of computer-enhanced presentations, there was no place to put a twelve-foot screen in comfortable view of the jury, the judge, and the lawyers. A good chunk of the gallery space would be taken up by the screen, and any spectator who sat behind it wouldn’t get to see the show.
“Bright and early,” I said to Minton.
He looked over from his work and seemed a bit surprised to see me in early as well.
“Have to work out the logistics of this thing. It’s kind of a pain.”
“You could always do it the old-fashioned way and just look at the jury and talk directly to them.”
“No, thanks. I like this better. Did you talk to your client about the offer?”
“Yeah, no sale. Looks like we ride this one to the end.”
I put my briefcase down on the defense table and wondered if the fact that Minton was setting up for his closing argument meant he had decided against mounting any kind of rebuttal. A sharp jab of panic went through me. I looked over at the state’s table and saw nothing that gave me a clue to what Minton was planning. I knew I could flat out ask him but I did not want to give away my appearance of disinterested confidence.
Instead, I sauntered over to the bailiff’s desk to talk to Bill Meehan, the deputy who ran Fullbright’s court. I saw on his desk a spread of paperwork. He would have the courtroom calendar as well as the list of custodies bused to the courthouse that morning.
“Bill, I’m going to grab a cup of coffee. You want something?”
“No, man, but thanks. I’m set on caffeine. For a while, at least.”
I smiled and nodded.
“Hey, is that the custody list? Can I take a look and see if any of my clients are on it?”
“Sure.”
Meehan handed me several pages that were stapled together. It was a listing by name of every inmate that was now housed in the courthouse’s jails. Following the name was the courtroom each prisoner was headed to. Acting as nonchalant as I could I scanned the list and quickly found the name Dwayne Jeffery Corliss on it. Minton’s snitch was in the building and was headed to Fullbright’s court. I almost let out a sigh of relief but kept it all inside. It looked like Minton was going to play things the way I had hoped and planned.
“Something wrong?” Meehan asked.
I looked at him and handed back the list.
“No, why?”
“I don’t know. You look like something happened, is all.”
“Nothing’s happened yet but it will.”
I left the courtroom and went down to the cafeteria on the second floor. When I was in line paying for my coffee I