looked at him. “Why don’t you just open the trunk and be done with it?”
He didn’t laugh. “Get in,” he said.
“Back off, Vito,” I said.
“His name is not Vito,” Turk said. “It’s all right, Mike. Go have a smoke.”
Sopranos looked disappointed. He turned and walked away.
I waited a couple of seconds, then got in.
“I don’t understand,” Bacon said. “Why are you getting in?”
“Now it’s my idea,” I said. “So what’s this about?”
The woman looked nervous. Bacon said, “This is Mr. Buchanan. He’s the lawyer I told you about. You can tell him now.”
She looked at Bacon, then back at me. “He was with me that night. Your client. We were at a motel in Long Beach. I have the receipt.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. I looked at it. It was a receipt for the Lavender Motel in Long Beach, with a stamp indicating 9:02 p.m. on Friday, January 30.
“You kept the receipt?” I said.
“This is a business,” she said.
I almost laughed. “How long was he with you?”
“Two hours.”
“Exactly?”
“Exactly. We bill by the quarter hour.”
“You’re just like lawyers.”
Turk Bacon said, “More honest.”
“That’s a lot of time with one client,” I said.
“It’s what he wanted,” she said. “It’s his dime. He wanted to talk. Some clients do. They have trouble at home, whatever. It’s not just about sex.”
“You did have sex, right?”
“Yes.”
I said, “The prosecution is going to tear into you.”
“I can handle myself,” she said. “I’ve been doing it ever since I was twelve.”
I looked into her eyes. They were sincere. But I had questions.
“Why did you happen to pick this time to come forward?” I said.
She looked at Bacon, who said, “She wants to do the right thing.”
That sounded about as convincing as I didn’t inhale. “This is very convenient, you coming along like this,” I said. “At just the right time. After a key witness goes missing.”
“Key witness?” Bacon said.
“I’m sure you’re completely in the dark.”
“I don’t know who you think I am,” he said. “Or what magical powers I possess. But right now you have a fact before you, a proven fact. The truth, in other words.”
“Why’d you hold her back, then?”
“What makes you think I held her back? She came to me.”
I said, “It just smells like something’s going on that you’re not telling me about.”
“Your sense of smell is not, so far as I can see, relevant. All you need to know, Mr. Buchanan, is that the witness who can set your client free is sitting here with you right now, and she’s quite ready to testify. You want her to or not?”
Want her to? This was the bombshell, the hand grenade, the TV moment that never happens in real life. A surprise witness turning up just before the commercial break.
Which was exactly what I didn’t like about it. Too scripted. But there was the receipt. There was the fact. And I knew I’d put her on, because not to would be legal malpractice.
I said to her, “Have you made any deals, or even talked with anyone, from a tabloid or television show, about telling your story?”
Bacon again answered for her. “I can assure you nothing like that has taken place. And if Leilana is asked anything along those lines, she can truthfully say no deals have been made.”
“Leilana?”
“Leilana Salgado,” Bacon said.
“What about after the trial?” I said.
Bacon shrugged.
“So that’s it, huh?” I said. “Timing. You make a big splash, now that the media’s covering this thing. Leilana here gets her face splashed all over. Fame. Because it doesn’t matter anymore what you’re famous for, right?”
“I did not make American popular culture what it is today,” Bacon said. “I merely enjoy its fruits. Remember what I told you about being able to bloom in any kind of soil?”
“I’ll never forget it,” I said.
Bacon smiled. “So do you want us in the courtroom?”
“Not you. Just her.”
Bacon shrugged.
138
I WENT UP to the lockup to talk to Eric. He was not looking well. His face was almost translucent.
“I can’t take much more of this,” he said.
“Listen,” I said. “The escort you were with that night. Describe her to me.”
“What?”
“Just do it.”
“She was sort of Mexican looking. She had real long hair. I mean, how much detail do you want?”
“That’s enough,” I said.
“Enough for what?”
“She’s here.”
Eric leaned against the lockup door. “What do you mean, here?”
“She’s going to testify. She’s your alibi.”
“Wait, wait!”
“Wait for what?”
“I don’t know if I want you to.”
“Eric, this is the single most important evidence we can