as if he could be no more than three years out of law school. Because the arrest had not made a splash in the papers or on TV yet, it had not received the attention of one of the senior attorneys in the filings division. It had gone to Newell on the routine rotation.
When the tape was done, Newell made a few more notes to look as if he knew what he was doing and then looked up at Bosch.
“You haven't said anything about what was in his house.”
“I didn't find anything on the quick search I made last night. There are others there now, with a warrant, doing a more thorough job.”
“Well, I hope they find something.”
“Why, you've got the case right there.”
“And it is a good case, Bosch. Really good work.”
“Coming from you, that means a lot.”
Newell looked at him and narrowed his eyes. He wasn't sure what to make of that.
“But, uh …”
“But what?”
“Well, there's no question we can file with this. There is a lot here.”
“But what?”
“I'm looking at it from a defense lawyer's perspective. What really do we have here? A lot of coincidences. He's left-handed, he smokes, he knew details about the Dollmaker. But those things are not hard evidence. They can apply to a lot of people.”
Bosch started lighting a cigarette.
“Please don't do—”
He exhaled and blew the smoke across the desk.
“—never mind.”
“What about the note and the postmark?”
“That's good but it is complicated and difficult to grasp. A good lawyer could make a jury see it as just another coincidence. He could confuse the issue, is what I'm trying to say.”
“What about the tape, Newell? We have him confessing on tape. What more do you—”
“But during the confession he disavows the confession.”
“Not at the end.”
“Look, I'm not planning on using the tape.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know what I'm talking about. He confessed before you advised him. It brings up the specter of entrapment.”
“There is no entrapment. He knew I was a cop and he knew his rights whether I advised him or not. He had a fucking gun on me. He freely made those statements. When he was formally arrested, I advised him.”
“But he searched you for a wire. That is a clear indication of his desire not to be taped. Plus, he dropped the bomb—his most damaging statement—after you cuffed him but before you advised him. That could be dicey.”
“You're going to use the tape.”
Newell looked at him a long time. A red blotchiness appeared on his young cheeks.
“You are not in a position to tell me what I'm going to use, Bosch. Besides, if that's all we go with it will probably be up to the state court of appeals if we use it, because if Bremmer has any kind of a lawyer at all that's where he'll take it. We'll win the question here in superior because half the judges on those benches worked in the DA's office at one time or another. But when it gets up to appeals or to the state supreme court in San Francisco, it's anybody's guess. Is that what you want? To wait a couple years and have it blown out then? Or do you want to get it done correctly right from the get-go?”
Bosch leaned forward and looked angrily at the young lawyer.
“Look, we're still working other angles. We're not done. There will be more evidence accumulated. But we have to charge this guy or let him go. We've got forty-eight hours from last night to file. But if we don't file right now with no bail, he'll grab a lawyer and get a bail hearing. The judge won't honor the no-bail arrest if you haven't even filed a single charge yet. So file on him now. We'll get all the evidence you need to back it up.”
Newell nodded as if he agreed but said, “Thing is, I like to have the whole package, everything we can get, when I file a case. That way we know how we are going to work the prosecution, right from the start. We know if we are going to go with a plea bargain or go balls to the wall.”
Bosch got up and walked to the office's open door. He stepped into the hall and looked at the plastic name plate affixed to the wall outside. Then he came back in.
“Bosch, what are you doing?”
“It's funny. I thought you were a filing deputy. I didn't know you were a trial deputy, too.”
Newell dropped his pencil