The concrete blonde - By Michael Connelly Page 0,108

a moment. He wanted this over and did not like the prospect of going through another trial with Chandler.

“Mr. Belk?” the judge said.

“I think we go with what we've got,” Bosch whispered. “What do you think?”

Belk nodded and said, “I think he might have just given us the verdict.”

Then he stood in his place and said, “Nothing at this time, Your Honor.”

“You sure now?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Okay, Ms. Chandler, like I said, we'll deal with this at a later time but we will deal with it. You can proceed now, but be very careful.”

“Your Honor, thank you. I want to say before going on that I apologize for my line of argument. I meant no disrespect to you. I, uh, was speaking extemporaneously and got carried away.”

“You did. Apology accepted, but we will still deal with the contempt order later. Let's proceed. I want the jury to begin their work right after lunch.”

Chandler adjusted her position at the lectern so that she was looking at the jury.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you heard Detective Bosch on the stand yourself. I ask you, lastly, to remember what he said. He said Norman Church got what he deserved. Think about that statement coming from a police officer and what it means. ‘Norman Church got what he deserved.’ We have seen in this courtroom how the justice system works. The checks and balances. The judge to referee, the jury to decide. By his own admission, Detective Bosch decided that was not necessary. He decided there was no need for a judge. No need for a jury. He robbed Norman Church of his chance for justice. And so, ultimately, he robbed you. Think about that.”

She picked her yellow pad up off the lectern and sat down.

23

The jury began its deliberations at 11:15 and Judge Keyes ordered the federal marshals to arrange for lunch to be sent in. He said the twelve would not be interrupted until 4:30, unless they came up with a verdict first.

After the jury had filed out, the judge ordered that all parties be able to appear for a reading of the verdict within fifteen minutes of notification by the clerk. That meant Chandler and Belk could go back to their respective offices to wait. Norman Church's family was from Burbank so the wife and two daughters opted to go to Chandler's office. For Bosch, the Hollywood station would have been more than a fifteen-minute commute, but Parker Center was a five-minute walk. He gave the clerk his pager number and told her he'd be there.

The last piece of business the judge brought up was the contempt order against Chandler. He set a hearing for it to be discussed for two weeks later and then banged his gavel down.

Before leaving the courtroom, Belk took Bosch aside and said, “I think we're in pretty good shape but I'm nervous. You want to spin the dice?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I could try to low-ball Chandler one last time.”

“Offer to settle?”

“Yeah. I have carte blanche from the office for anything up to fifty. After that, I'd have to get approval. But I could throw the fifty at her and see if they'd take it to walk away now.”

“What about legal fees?”

“On a settlement, she'd have to take the cut from the fifty. Someone like her, she's probably going forty percent. That'd be twenty grand for a week in trial and a week picking a jury. Not bad.”

“You think we're going to lose?”

“I don't know. I'm just thinking of all the angles. You never know what a jury will do. Fifty grand would be a cheap way out. She might take it, the way the judge came down on her there at the end. She's the one who's probably scared of losing now.”

Belk didn't get it, Bosch knew. Maybe it had been too subtle for him. The whole contempt thing had been Chandler's last scam. She had purposely committed the infraction so the jury would see her being slapped down by the judge. She was showing them the justice system at work: a bad deed met with stern enforcement and punishment. She was saying to them, do you see? This is what Bosch escaped. This is what Norman Church faced, but Bosch decided to take the judge and jury's role instead.

It was clever, maybe too clever. The more Bosch thought about it, the more he wondered how much the judge had been a willing and knowing player in it. He looked at Belk and saw the young assistant