The Lincoln lawyer - By Michael Connelly Page 0,142
question. But he didn’t. He moved on.
“Now, Mr. Corliss, have you been promised anything by me or the district attorney’s office in return for your testimony?”
“Nope. I just thought it was the right thing to do.”
“What is the status of your case?”
“I still got the charges against me, but it looks like if I complete my program I’ll be able to get a break on them. The drugs, at least. I don’t know about the burglary yet.”
“But I have made no promise of help in that regard, correct?”
“No, sir, you haven’t.”
“Has anyone else from the district attorney’s office made any promises?”
“No, sir.”
“I have no further questions.”
I sat unmoving and just staring at Corliss. My pose was that of a man who was angry but didn’t know exactly what to do about it. Finally, the judge prompted me into action.
“Mr. Haller, cross-examination?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
I stood up, glancing back at the door as if hoping a miracle would walk through it. I then checked the big clock on the back door and saw it was five minutes after ten. I noticed as I turned back to the witness that I had not lost Kurlen. He was still in the back row and he still had the same smirk on his face. I realized that it might have been his natural look.
I turned to the witness.
“Mr. Corliss, how old are you?”
“Forty-three.”
“You go by Dwayne?”
“That’s right.”
“Any other names?”
“People called me D.J. when I was growing up. Everybody called me that.”
“And where did you grow up?”
“Mesa, Arizona.”
“Mr. Corliss, how many times have you been arrested before?”
Minton objected but the judge overruled. I knew she was going to give me a lot of room with this witness since I was the one who had supposedly been sandbagged.
“How many times have you been arrested before, Mr. Corliss?” I asked again.
“I think about seven.”
“So you’ve been in a number of jails in your time, haven’t you?”
“You could say that.”
“All in Los Angeles County?”
“Mostly. But I got arrested over in Phoenix before, too.”
“So you know how the system works, don’t you?”
“I just try to survive.”
“And sometimes surviving means ratting out your fellow inmates, doesn’t it?”
“Your Honor?” Minton said, standing to object.
“Take a seat, Mr. Minton,” Fullbright said. “I gave you a lot of leeway bringing this witness in. Mr. Haller gets his share of it now. The witness will answer the question.”
The stenographer read the question back to Corliss.
“I suppose so.”
“How many times have you snitched on another inmate?”
“I don’t know. A few times.”
“How many times have you testified in a court proceeding for the prosecution?”
“Would that include my own cases?”
“No, Mr. Corliss. For the prosecution. How many times have you testified against a fellow inmate for the prosecution?”
“I think this is my fourth time.”
I looked surprised and aghast, although I was neither.
“So you are a pro, aren’t you? You could almost say your occupation is drug-addicted jailhouse snitch.”
“I just tell the truth. If people tell me things that are bad, then I feel obligated to report it.”
“But you try to get people to tell you things, don’t you?”
“No, not really. I guess I’m just a friendly guy.”
“A friendly guy. So what you expect this jury to believe is that a man you didn’t know would just come out of the blue and tell you—a perfect stranger—that he gave a bitch exactly what she deserved. Is that correct?”
“It’s what he said.”
“So he just mentioned that to you and then you both just went back to talking about cigarettes after that, is that right?”
“Not exactly.”
“Not exactly? What do you mean by ‘not exactly’?”
“He also told me he did it before. He said he got away with it before and he would get away with it now. He was bragging about it because with the other time, he said he killed the bitch and got away with it.”
I froze for a moment. I then glanced at Roulet, who sat as still as a statue with surprise on his face, and then back at the witness.
“You . . .”
I started and stopped, acting like I was the man in the minefield who had just heard the click come from beneath my foot. In my peripheral vision I noticed Minton’s body posture tightening.
“Mr. Haller?” the judge prompted.
I broke my stare from Corliss and looked at the judge.
“Your Honor, I have no further questions at this time.”
FORTY
Minton came up from his seat like a boxer coming out of his corner at his bleeding opponent. “Redirect, Mr. Minton?” Fullbright asked.