The Fifth Witness Part 34

"I'm sorry, Maggie. Let's start over."

She pulled her arm away from me.

"You still owe me an explanation, Haller. That wasn't making love. I don't know what's going on with you. I don't think you should treat anyone that way, but especially not me."

"Maggie, I think you're overdoing it a bit. For a while there you liked it and you know it."

"And then you started to hurt me."

"I'm sorry. I never want to hurt you."

"And don't try to act like it was a pa.s.sing thing. If you ever want to be with me again you'd better start telling me what is happening with you."

I shook my head and looked out at the crowded room. The Lakers were on the overhead TV in the bar that divided the place. People were crowded three deep behind the lucky patrons who had the stools. The waiter brought our drinks and that bought me some more time. But as soon as he left the table, Maggie was on me.

"Talk to me, Michael, or I'm taking my dinner to go. I'll take a cab."

I took a long drink of water and then looked at her.

"It has nothing to do with court or Andrea Freeman or anybody or anything else you know, okay?"

"No, not okay. Talk to me."

I put my gla.s.s down and folded my arms on the table.

"Cisco found the two guys who attacked me."

"Where? Who are they?"

"That doesn't matter. He didn't call the police, he didn't turn them in."

"You mean he just let them go?"

I laughed and shook my head.

"No, he held them. Him and two of his a.s.sociates from the Saints. For me. In this place they have. To do what I wanted. Whatever I wanted. He said I needed it."

She reached across the checked tablecloth and put her hand on my forearm.

"Haller, what did you do?"

I held her eyes for a moment.

"Nothing. I questioned them and then told Cisco to let them go. I know who hired them."

"Who?"

"I'm not going to get into that. It's not important. But you know what, Maggie? When I was in the hospital waiting to find out if they were going to be able to save my twisted nut, all I could think about were these violent images of me getting those two guys back. I mean, Hieronymus Bosch torture stuff. Medieval s.h.i.+t. I wanted to hurt them so bad. Then I get my chance, and believe me these guys would have just disappeared after, and I let it go... and then I'm with you and..."

She leaned back in the booth. She stared off into s.p.a.ce, a mixture of sadness and resignation on her face.

"Pretty f.u.c.ked up, huh?"

"I wish you hadn't told me all of that."

"You mean as a prosecutor?"

"There's that."

"Well, you kept asking. I guess I should've made up a story about being mad at Andrea Freeman. That would've been okay with you, right? If it was about men and women, you could understand that."

She looked back at me.

"Don't patronize me."

"Sorry."

We sat in silence and watched the activities in the bar. People drinking, being happy. At least outwardly. The waiters in tuxedos moving about and squeezing between the crowded tables.

When our food came I was no longer particularly hungry even though the best steak in town was on the plate in front of me.

"Can I ask you one final thing about it?" Maggie asked.

I shrugged. I didn't see the point in talking about it anymore but relented.

"Ask away."

"How do you know for sure that Cisco and his a.s.sociates let those two men go?"

I cut into my steak and blood oozed onto the plate. It was undercooked. I looked up at Maggie.

"I guess I don't know for sure."

I went back to my steak and in my peripheral vision I saw Maggie wave down the busboy.

"I'm going to take this to go and try to grab a cab out front. Can you bring it out to me?"

"Of course. Right away."

He hustled off with the plate.

"Maggie," I said.

"I just need some time to think about all of this."

She slid out of the booth.

"I can drive you."

"No, I'll be fine."

She stood next to the table, opening her purse.

"Don't worry about it. I've got it."

"You sure?"

"If there's no cab out there, look down the street at the Palm. There might be one there."

"Okay, thanks."

She left then to wait for her food outside. I pushed my plate a few inches back and contemplated the half-full gla.s.s of wine she left behind. Five minutes later I was still considering it when Maggie suddenly appeared, the to-go bag in her hand.

"They had to call a cab," she said. "It should be here any minute."

She picked up her gla.s.s and sipped from it.

"Let's talk after your trial," she said.

"Okay."

She put the gla.s.s down, leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. Then she left. I sat there for a while thinking about things. I thought maybe that last kiss had saved my life.

Thirty-two.

This time in his chambers Judge Perry sat down. It was 9:05 Wednesday morning and I was there along with Andrea Freeman and the court reporter. Before resuming trial the judge had agreed with Freeman's request for one more conference out of the public eye. Perry waited for us to settle in our seats, then checked that his reporter's fingers were poised over the keys of her steno machine.

"Okay, we're on the record here in California versus Trammel, California versus Trammel," he said. "Ms. Freeman, you called for an in camera in camera conference. I hope you're not going to tell me you need more time to pursue the issue involving the federal target letter." conference. I hope you're not going to tell me you need more time to pursue the issue involving the federal target letter."

Freeman moved to the front edge of her seat.

"Not at all, Your Honor. There is nothing worth pursuing. The issue has been thoroughly vetted but full knowledge of what is going on with the federal agencies involved does not comfort me. I believe it is clear from what I know now that Mr. Haller is going to attempt to push this trial off the rails with issues that are definitely irrelevant to the matter before the jury."

I cleared my throat but the judge stepped in first.

"We handled the issue of third-party guilt in pretrial, Ms. Freeman. I am allowing the defense the leeway to pursue it to a point. But you have to give me something here. Just because you don't want Mr. Haller to pursue this target letter doesn't make it irrelevant."

"I understand that, Judge. But what-"

"Excuse me," I said. "Do I get a turn here? I'd like the chance to respond to the insinuation that I'm pus.h.i.+ng-"

"Let Ms. Freeman finish and then you'll get a good long tug, Mr. Haller. I promise you that. Ms. Freeman?"

"Thank you, Your Honor. What I'm trying to say is that a federal target letter essentially means almost nothing. It is a notice of a pending pending investigation. It is not a charge. It's not even an allegation. It doesn't mean that they have found something or will find something. It is simply a tool used by the feds to say, 'Hey, we heard something and we're going to look into it.' But in Mr. Haller's hands in front of the jury, he's going to spin this into the harbinger of doom and attach it to someone not even on trial here. Lisa Trammel is the one on trial and this whole thing about federal target letters is not even remotely relevant to the material issues. I would ask that you disallow Mr. Haller from making any further inquiry of Detective Kurlen in this regard." investigation. It is not a charge. It's not even an allegation. It doesn't mean that they have found something or will find something. It is simply a tool used by the feds to say, 'Hey, we heard something and we're going to look into it.' But in Mr. Haller's hands in front of the jury, he's going to spin this into the harbinger of doom and attach it to someone not even on trial here. Lisa Trammel is the one on trial and this whole thing about federal target letters is not even remotely relevant to the material issues. I would ask that you disallow Mr. Haller from making any further inquiry of Detective Kurlen in this regard."

The judge was leaning back with his hands in front of his chest, the fingers of each hand pressed against each other. He swiveled to face me. Finally, my cue.

"Judge, if I were in Your Honor's position, I think that I would ask counsel, since she says she thoroughly vetted this letter and its origin, if there is a sitting federal grand jury looking into foreclosure fraud in Southern California. And then I would ask how she has concluded that a federal target letter amounts to 'almost nothing.' Because I don't think the court is getting a very accurate a.s.sessment of what the letter means or what its impact is on this case."

The judge swiveled back to Freeman and broke one of his fingers free to point in her direction.

"What about that, Ms. Freeman? Is there a grand jury?"

"Judge, you are putting me in an awkward position here. Grand juries work in secret and-"

"We're all friends here, Ms. Freeman," the judge said sternly. "Is there a grand jury?"

She hesitated and then nodded.

"There is a grand jury, Your Honor, but it has not heard any testimony in regard to Louis Opparizio. As I said, the target letter is nothing more than a notice of a pending investigation. It's hearsay, Judge, and it doesn't fit into any exception that would speak to its admissibility in this trial. Though the letter was signed by the U.S. attorney for this district, it was actually auth.o.r.ed by a Secret Service agent handling the inquiry. I have the agent waiting downstairs in my office. If the court wishes, I can have him in chambers in ten minutes to tell you exactly what I just did. That this is a lot of smoke and mirrors on Mr. Haller's part. At the time of Mr. Bondurant's death there was no active investigation yet and no connection between the two. There was just the letter."

That was a mistake. By revealing that Vasquez, the Secret Service agent who penned the target letter, was in the building, Freeman had put the judge into a difficult position. That the agent was nearby and easily accessible would make it harder for the judge to dismiss the issue out of hand. I stepped in before the judge could respond.

"Judge Perry? I would suggest that, since counsel says she has the federal agent who wrote the letter right here in the courthouse, she simply put him on the stand to counter anything that I might draw from Detective Kurlen on cross-examination. If Ms. Freeman is so sure the agent will say the target letter he wrote amounts to nothing, then let him tell the jury that. Let him blow me out of the water. I remind the court that we've already dipped our toes into these waters. I asked Kurlen about the letter yesterday. To simply go back out there and not mention it again or have you tell the jurors to un-ring the bell and dismiss it from memory... that could be more damaging to our collective cause than a full airing of this issue."

Perry answered without hesitation.

"I tend to think that you are correct about this, Mr. Haller. I don't like the idea of leaving the jury all night with this mysterious target letter to ponder and then pulling the rug out from under them this morning."

"Your Honor," Freeman said quickly. "May I be heard once more?"

"No, I don't think that is necessary. We need to stop wasting time in here and get the trial started."

"But, Your Honor, there is one other exigent issue the court has not even considered."

The judge looked frustrated.

"And what is that, Ms. Freeman? My patience is drawing thin."

"Allowing testimony about a target letter directed at the defense's key witness will likely complicate that witness's previous decision not to invoke his Fifth Amendment rights during testimony in this case. Louis Opparizio and his legal counsel may well reconsider that decision once this target letter is introduced and discussed publicly. Therefore, Mr. Haller may be building a defense case that ultimately results in his key witness and straw man, if you will, refusing to testify. I want it on record now that if Mr. Haller plays this game he must abide by the consequences. When Opparizio decides next week that it's in his best interest not to testify and asks for a new hearing on the subpoena, I don't want defense counsel crying to the court for a do-over. No do-overs, Judge."

The judge nodded, agreeing with her.

"I guess that would be tantamount to the man who killed his parents asking the court to show mercy on him because he's an orphan. I'm in agreement, Mr. Haller. You are on notice that if you play it this way you must be prepared to shoulder the consequences."

"I understand, Judge," I said. "And I will make sure my client does as well. I only have one point of argument and that is counsel's labeling of Louis Opparizio as a straw man. He's no straw man and we'll prove it."

"Well," the judge said, "at least you'll get a chance to. Now time is wasting. Let's get back into the courtroom."

I followed Freeman out, leaving the judge behind while he put on his robe. I expected her to hit me with a verbal a.s.sault but I got the opposite.