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The Fifth Witness Part 16

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"There's going to be a movie, Mickey. He should know."

Or maybe she meant that he should have his nose rubbed in it.

"Where were you going to send the money?"

"He said I could just deposit it in Western Union and he could access it from any of their offices."

I knew there were Western Union offices all over Tijuana and points south. I'd sent money to clients before. We could send the money and then narrow things down by seeing which office Jeff Trammel went into to get the cash. But if he was smart he wouldn't go to the office closest to where he was living and we'd be back to square one.



"Okay," I said. "We'll think about Jeff later. I also wanted to tell you that the deal Herb Dahl made with Archway has changed."

"How so?"

"It's with me now. I just left Archway. Herb can still produce if they ever make a movie. And he gets to stay out of jail. So he comes out ahead. You come out ahead because your defense team will now be paid for their work and you'll get the rest, which by the way will be much more than you were ever going to see from Herb."

"Mickey, you can't do that! He made that deal!"

"I just unmade it, Lisa. Clegg McReynolds wasn't interested in being entangled in the legal net I was about to throw over Herb's head. You can tell Herb or you can have him call me if he wants."

She was silent.

"There's one more thing and this is important. You listening?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"I'm going to the office where I'm going to meet with the prosecutor. She called the meeting. I think something's up. Something's gone wrong for their side. She wants to talk about a deal and she would have never agreed to come to my office if she didn't have to. I just wanted you to know. I'll call you after the meeting."

"No deals, Mickey, unless she's offering to stand on the steps of the courthouse and announce to CNN and Fox and all the others that I'm innocent."

I felt the car swerve from course and looked out the window. Rojas was bailing off the freeway early because of traffic.

"Well, I don't think that's what she's coming over to offer, but it is my duty to keep you informed of your choices. I don't want you to become some sort of martyr for this... this cause of yours. You should listen to all offers, Lisa."

"I'm not pleading guilty. Period. Is there anything else you want to talk about?"

"I'm good for now. I will call you later."

I put the phone down on the armrest. Enough talk for now. I closed my eyes to rest for a few minutes. I tried to wiggle my fingers in the plaster and the effort hurt but was successful. The doctor who studied the X-rays said he believed the damage had occurred when someone stomped on my hand after I was on the ground and already unconscious. Lucky for me, I guess. He predicted full recovery for the fingers.

In the dark world behind my eyelids I saw the men in black gloves moving toward me. It played in a repet.i.tive loop. I saw the dispa.s.sionate look in their eyes as they approached me. It was just a piece of business for them. Nothing else on the line. For me it was four decades of confidence and self-esteem shattered like small bones on the pavement.

After a while I heard Rojas from the front seat.

"Hey, Boss, we're here."

Fifteen.

As I entered the reception area Lorna waved a hand in warning from behind the desk. She then pointed toward the door to my office. She was telling me that Andrea Freeman was already in there waiting. I made a quick detour to the other office, knocked once and opened the door. Cisco and Bullocks were behind their desks. I went to Cisco's and put my phone down in front of him.

"Lisa's husband called. In fact he called several times. Unavailable ID. Can you see what you can do?"

He rubbed a finger across his mouth as he considered the request.

"Our carrier has a threat-trace service. I give the exact time of the calls and they'll see what they can find. Takes a few days but all they'll be able to do is identify the number, not the location. You need law enforcement if you are going to try to triangulate this guy's location."

"I just want the number. Next time I want to call him instead of the other way around."

"You got it."

As I turned to leave I looked at Aronson.

"Bullocks, you want to come in and see what the district attorney's office has to say?"

"Love to."

We moved through the suite to my office. Freeman was sitting in a chair in front of my desk, reading e-mail on her phone. She was in non-court clothes. Blue jeans and a pullover sweater. It must've been all inside work today. I closed the door and she looked up.

"Andrea, can I get you something to drink?"

"No, I'm fine."

"And you know Jennifer from the prelim."

"Silent Jennifer, of course. Didn't make a peep at the prelim."

As I came around my desk I checked Aronson and saw her face and neck start to color with embarra.s.sment. I tried to throw her a line.

"Oh, she wanted to make a peep or two but she had her orders from me. Strategy, you know. Jennifer, pull that chair over."

Aronson dragged a side chair toward the desk and sat down.

"So, here we are," I said. "What brings the DA's office to my humble place of work?"

"Well, we're getting close and I thought, you know. I figured you work the whole county and might not be as familiar with Judge Perry as I am."

"That's an understatement. I've never even been in front of him."

"Well, he likes to keep a clean docket. He doesn't care about headlines and hoopla. He'll just want to know that there was a vigorous effort to end this matter through disposition. So I thought maybe we could have one more discussion about it before we get down to a full-blown trial."

"One more? I don't remember the first discussion."

"Do you want to talk about it or not?"

I leaned back and swiveled in my chair as if mulling the question over. This was all a little dance and we both knew it. Freeman wasn't acting out of some desire to please Judge Perry. There was something else unseen in the room. Something had gone wrong and there was an opportunity for the defense. I wiggled my fingers in the cast, trying to relieve an itch on my palm.

"Well...," I said. "I'm not sure what you're thinking. Every time I bring up a plea with my client she tells me to pound sand. She wants a trial. Of course, I've seen this before. The old no deal, no deal, no deal, yes deal scenario."

"Right."

"But my hands are sort of tied here, Andrea. My client has twice forbidden me from approaching your office with a tender. She won't allow me to initiate. So here we are, you've come to me, so that works. But you have to open negotiations. You tell me what you're thinking."

Freeman nodded.

"Fair enough. I did make the call after all. Are we in agreement that this is off the record? Nothing leaves this room if no agreement is eventually struck."

"Sure."

Aronson nodded along with me.

"Okay then, this is what we are thinking. And this already has approval from on high. We drop down to man and recommend the mid-level."

I nodded, projecting my lower lip in a manner that suggested that it was an offer with merit. But I knew that if she opened with manslaughter with a mid-range sentence recommendation, it could only get better for my client. I also knew that my instincts were right. There was no way the DA would float an offer like this unless something was seriously wrong. By my estimation their case was weak from the moment they put the cuffs on my client. But now something had fallen out of place. Something big, and I had to find out what that was.

"That's a good offer," I said.

"You're d.a.m.n right. We're coming down off premeditated and lying in wait."

"I'm a.s.suming we're talking voluntary manslaughter?"

"It would be hard even for you to make a case for involuntary. It's not like she just happened to be in that garage. Do you think she'll take it?"

"I don't know. She's said since the start no deals. She wants a trial. I can try to sell it. It's just that..."

"Just that what?"

"I'm curious, you know? Why such a nice offer? Why are you coming down to this? What's gone wrong inside your case that makes you feel you need to cut and run?"

"This is not cutting and running. She'll still go to prison and there will still be justice. There's nothing wrong with our case but trials are expensive and long. Across the board the DA's office is trying for dispositions over trials. But dispositions that make sense. This is one of those times. You don't want it, I'm ready to go."

I held my hands up in surrender. I could see her focus on the plaster cast on my left hand.

"It's not whether I want it. It's my client's choice and I have to give her all the information I can, that's all. I've been in this position before. Usually a deal this good is too good to be true. You take it and you end up finding out later that the main witness was going to flake out or the prosecution just picked up a nice piece of exculpatory evidence you would've gotten in discovery if you'd hung on just a little bit longer."

"Yeah, well, not this time. It is what it is. You have twenty-four hours and then it comes off the table."

"What about going with the low range?"

"What?"

It was almost a shriek.

"Come on, you didn't come in here and give me your last, best offer. No one works that way. You have one more give and we both know it. Voluntary manslaughter, low-range sentencing recommendation. She'll do five to seven tops."

"You're killing me. The press will eat me alive."

"Maybe, but I know your boss didn't send you over here with one offer, Andrea."

She leaned back and looked at Aronson and then around the rest of the room, her eyes trailing over the shelves of books that came with the office.

I waited. I glanced at Aronson and winked. I knew what was coming.

"I'm sorry about your hand," Freeman said. "That must've hurt."

"Actually, it didn't. I was already down for the count when they did it. I never felt a thing."

I held up my hand again and wiggled my fingers, their tips moving along the top edge of the cast.

"I can already move them pretty good."

"Okay, low range. I still need to hear back in twenty-four hours. And this is all off the record. Other than to your client, this is not to be revealed outside of this room if it doesn't go."

"We already agreed to that."

"Okay, then I guess that's it. I'll be heading back."

She stood up and Aronson and I followed. We dropped into the sort of small talk that often follows a meeting of great importance.

"So who's going to be the next DA?" I asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Freeman said. "There's no front-runner yet, that's for sure."

The office was currently operating with an interim district attorney following the appointment of its former holder to a top job in the U.S. Attorney General's Office in Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C. A special election would be held in the fall to fill the slot and so far the field of candidates was uninspiring.

Finished with the pleasantries, we shook hands and Freeman left the office. Sitting back down, I looked at Aronson.

"So what do you think?"

"I think you're right. The offer was too good and then she made it even better. Something's gone wrong in her case."

"Yeah, but what? We can't exploit it if we don't know what it is."

I leaned forward to the phone and pushed the intercom. I told Cisco to come in. I swiveled in silence while we waited. Cisco entered, put my cell phone down on the desk and then took the seat where Freeman had sat.

"I have the trace underway. I'd give it three days. They don't move that quickly."

"Thanks."

"So what's up with the prosecutor?"

"She's running scared and we don't know why. I know you've vetted everything she's given us and checked out the witnesses. I want to do it again. Something's changed. Something they thought they had, they no longer have. We have to find out what it is."

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