The Brass Verdict - Michael Connelly Page 0,78

with him. So he called up and said he wanted a flat fee or we could figure out things on our own.”

“Like I said, how much?”

“Ten thousand dollars.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“My words exactly.”

I looked from her to Cisco.

“This is extortion. Isn’t there a state agency that regulates you guys? Can’t we come down on his shit somehow?”

Cisco shook his head.

“There are all kinds of regulatory agencies but this is a shady area.”

“Yeah, I know it’s shady. He’s shady. I’ve thought that for years.”

“What I mean is, he had no deal with Vincent. We can’t find any contract. So he’s not required to give us anything. We simply need to hire him and he’s setting his price at ten grand. It’s a bullshit rip-off but it’s probably legal. I mean, you’re the lawyer. You tell me.”

I thought about it for a few moments and then tried to push it aside. I was still riding on the adrenaline charge I’d picked up in the courthouse. I didn’t want it to dissipate with distractions.

“All right, I’ll ask Elliot if he wants to pay it. Meantime, I’m going to hit all the files again tonight, and if I get lucky and crack through, then we won’t need him. We say fuck you and are done with him.”

“Asshole,” Lorna muttered.

I was pretty sure that was directed at Bruce Carlin and not me.

“Okay, is that it?” I asked. “Anything else?”

I looked from one face to the other. Nobody had anything else to bring up.

“Okay, then, thank you both for all you’ve been putting up with and doing this week. Go out and have a good night.”

Lorna looked at me curiously.

“You’re sending us home?” she asked.

I checked my watch.

“Why not?” I said. “It’s almost four thirty and I’m going to dive into the files and I don’t want any distractions. You two go on home, have a good night and we’ll start again tomorrow.”

“You’re going to work here alone tonight?” Cisco asked.

“Yeah, but don’t worry. I’ll lock the door and I won’t let anybody in – even if I know him.”

I smiled. Lorna and Cisco didn’t. I pointed to the open door to the office. It had a slide bolt that could be used to lock it at the top of the doorframe. If necessary I would be able to secure both outside and inside perimeters. It gave new meaning to the idea of going into lockdown.

“Come on, I’ll be fine. I’ve got work to do.”

They slowly, reluctantly, started to make their way out of my office.

“Lorna,” I called after them. “Patrick should be out there. Tell him to keep hanging. I might have something to tell him after I make that call.”

Twenty-nine

I opened the Patrick Henson file on my desk and looked up the prosecutor’s number. I wanted to get this out of the way before I went to work on the Elliot case.

The prosecutor was Dwight Posey, a guy I had dealt with before on cases and never liked. Some prosecutors deal with defense attorneys as though they are only one step removed from their clients. As pseudocriminals, not as educated and experienced professionals. Not as necessary cogs in the winding gears of the justice system. Most cops have this view and I can live with it. But it bothers me when fellow lawyers adopt the pose. Unfortunately, Dwight Posey was one of these, and if I could’ve gone through the rest of my life without ever having to talk to him, I would have been a happy man. But that was not going to be the case.

“So, Haller,” he said after taking the call, “they’ve got you walking in a dead man’s shoes, don’t they?”

“What?”

“They gave you all of Jerry Vincent’s cases, right? That’s how you ended up with Henson.”

“Yeah, something like that. Anyway, I’m returning your call, Dwight. Actually, your three calls. What’s up? You get the motion I filed yesterday?”

I reminded myself that I had to step carefully here if I wanted to get everything I could out of the phone call. I couldn’t let my distaste for the prosecutor affect the outcome for my client.

“Yes, I got the motion. It’s sitting right here on my desk. That’s why I’ve been calling.”

He left it open for me to step in.

“And?”

“And, uh, well, we’re not going to do that, Mick.”

“Do what, Dwight?”

“Put our evidence out there for examination.”

It was looking more and more like I had struck a major nerve with my motion.

“Well, Dwight, that’s the beauty of the system, right?

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