The Night Fire (Harry Bosch #22) - Michael Connelly Page 0,88
“What are the weaknesses that could be exploited at trial? I think the conspiracy to commit is a slam dunk. We’ll convict on that no problem. That extra call to the Medical Examiner was genius. I can’t wait to play that to a jury and have the defense try to explain it.”
“Good,” Ballard said. “And on the Hilton murder?”
“Well, on the murder, he never says outright, ‘I killed the guy.’ He says he handled a ‘piece of work,’ which in some quarters is a euphemism for murder. He also says ‘white boy’ but doesn’t mention anybody by name.”
“But when you add in the conspiracy, it’s obvious he wanted to kill Dorsey to keep the cover on Hilton.”
“Obvious to you and me, but possibly not to a jury. Also, if you have one charge that’s a dunker and one that has issues, you drop the wobbler and go with the sure thing. You don’t want to show weakness to a jury. So I know you don’t want to hear this, but right now, I would only file the conspiracy. I would make the reason for the conspiracy the Hilton murder and put it out there, but I would not ask the jury to decide a verdict on that. I would say, ‘Give me a conspiracy-to-commit verdict,’ and this guy goes away for good anyway. I know that’s not the answer you wanted.”
Disappointed, Ballard closed her laptop and leaned back in her chair.
“Well, shit,” she said.
“Have you gone back to Dorsey since he was pulled out of the Crip tank?” Robinson asked.
“No, should I?”
“You said he wasn’t helpful before, but maybe if he knows that his old boss Kidd put a hit out on him, he might change his tune. And maybe he knows something he’s held back.”
Ballard nodded. She realized she should have thought of that.
“Good idea,” she said.
“What is Dupree’s status?” Robinson asked.
“Right now he’s in holding at South Bureau. He’s looking for a substantial-assistance deal. We have till Monday morning to charge him.”
“You’d better take good care of him. If Kidd finds out Dorsey’s alive, he’ll know he’s been set up.”
“I know. We have him on keep-away status.”
“By the way, who’s ‘we’?”
“My regular partner’s out on leave. This whole thing was actually brought to me by a retired homicide guy named Bosch. He got the Hilton murder book from John Jack Thompson’s widow after his funeral.”
“Harry Bosch, I remember him. I didn’t know he retired.”
“Yeah, but he’s got reserve powers through San Fernando PD.”
“Be careful with that. That could be an issue if he has to testify to anything you can’t be a witness to.”
“We talked about that. We know.”
“What about Kidd? Are you going to bring him in for a conversation?”
“We were thinking that was our last move.”
Robinson nodded thoughtfully.
“Well, when you’re ready, bring this back to me,” she finally said. “I’d love to try this case. On Monday, come see me and I’ll file the case on Dupree and work out the cooperation agreement. Does he have a lawyer?”
“Not yet,” Ballard said.
“Once he lawyers up, I’ll make the deal.”
“Okay.”
“And good luck with Dorsey.”
“As soon as we finish breakfast, I’m going downtown to see him again.”
As if on cue, the waitress came and put down their coffees and plates of avocado toast. She also had a dog biscuit for Lola.
37
They brought Dorsey to see her in the same interview room at Men’s Central. He had to be pushed into the room by Deputy Valens when he saw it was Ballard waiting for him.
“You set me up, bitch!” he said. “I ain’t talking to you.”
Ballard waited until Valens finished cuffing him to his chair and left the interview room.
“I set you up?” she said then. “How’s that?”
“All I know is, you drag me in here, next thing I know I’m in solitary with a snitch jacket,” Dorsey said. “Now people out to kill me.”
“Well, people are out to kill you but it isn’t because of me.”
“That’s some bullshit right there. I was doing fine till you come see me.”
“No, you were doing fine until you called Elvin Kidd. That’s where your trouble started, Dennard.”
“The fuck you talking about, girl?”
“We had Elvin up on a wire. We heard your call and then, guess what? We have him setting up the hit. On you.”
“You runnin’ a bullshit game now.”
“Am I, Dennard?”
Ballard opened her laptop on the table.
“Let me walk you through it,” she said. “Then, if you think it’s a game, I’ll tell them to put you back with your friends