Майкл Коннелли - Two Kinds of Truth

“So you’re still willing to pass the buck to a dead guy.”

“I didn’t say that. What I’m saying is that I don’t need to know the answer to that.”

Bosch stood up so he could speak to her face-to-face.

“Yeah, well, see, that doesn’t work for me, Lucia. You can’t believe in the forensic evidence without believing that the other evidence was planted in the apartment. And that’s why I didn’t call you back.”

She shook her head sadly and then turned away. Tapscott was holding the courtroom door open for her. He gave Bosch the deadeye stare as Soto went by him. Bosch watched the door silently close behind them.

“Look at this,” Haller said.

Bosch looked down the hall and saw two women approaching. They were dressed for a night of clubbing, with black skirts cut to midthigh and patterned black stockings, one with skulls on them, the other crucifixes.

“Groupies,” Cisco said. “If Borders walks out of here today, he’ll probably be banging a different broad every night for a year.”

The first two were followed by three more, dressed similarly and with tattoos and piercings to the max. Then from the elevator alcove came a woman in a pale yellow dress appropriate for court. Her blond hair was tied back and she walked with a hesitancy that suggested she had not been in a courthouse since the first trial thirty years before.

“Is this Dina?” Haller asked.

“That’s her,” Bosch said.

When Bosch had visited her Monday night, he thought Dina Rousseau was beautiful and the image of what her sister might have grown to be. She had given up on acting when she got married to a studio executive and started a family. She told Bosch she had no doubt that Preston Borders had been her sister’s killer and would not hesitate to tell a judge so or to appear in court simply as moral support.

Haller and Cisco joined Bosch in standing as she approached, and Bosch introduced her.

“We certainly appreciate your willingness to come here today and to testify if necessary,” Haller said.

“I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t,” she said.

“I don’t know if Detective Bosch told you this, Ms. Rousseau, but Borders will be in the courtroom today. He’s been transported down from San Quentin for the hearing. I hope that is not going to cause you any undue emotional distress.”

“Of course it will. But Harry told me that he would be here, and I’m ready. Just point me to where I need to go.”

“Cisco, why don’t you take Ms. Rousseau into the courtroom and sit with her. We still have a few minutes and we’re going to wait for our last witness.”

Cisco did as instructed, and that left Bosch and Haller standing in the hallway. Bosch pulled his phone and checked the time. They had ten minutes until the hearing was scheduled to start.

“Come on, Spencer, where are you?” Haller said.

They both stared down the long hallway. Because the top of the hour was approaching, the crowds were thinning as people went into the various courtrooms for the start of hearings and trials. It left the space outside of court wide open.

Five minutes went by. No Spencer.

“Okay,” Haller said. “We don’t need him. We’ll work his absence to our advantage — he defied a valid subpoena. Let’s go in and do this.”

He headed toward the courtroom door and Bosch followed, taking one last glance toward the elevator alcove before disappearing inside.

Bosch saw that a number of reporters had slipped into the courtroom and were in the front row. He also saw that Cisco and Dina were in the last row, next to his daughter. Dina was staring toward the front of the courtroom, a growing look of horror on her face. Bosch followed the line of her vision and saw that Preston Borders was being led into the courtroom through the metal door that accessed the courthouse jail.

Courtroom deputies were on either side of and behind him. He walked slowly toward the defense table. He was in leg and wrist shackles, with a heavy chain running up between his legs and connecting the bindings. He was wearing orange jail scrubs — the color given to jailhouse VIPs.

Bosch had not seen Borders in person in nearly thirty years. Back then he had been a young man with a tan and 1980s actor hair — big, full, and wavy. Now he had a curved back and his hair was gray and thin, matching papery skin that received sunlight only one hour a week.

But he still had the flinty deadeye stare of a psychopath. As he entered, he glanced out into the courtroom gallery and smiled at the groupies who longed to be held by those eyes. They were standing in a middle row, bouncing on their heels and trying to hold themselves back from squealing.

Then his eyes went beyond them, and he found Bosch standing with Haller at the back. They were dark, sunken eyes, glowing like trash-can fires in an alley at night.

Glowing with hate.

Once Borders was seated at the defense table between Lance and Katherine Cronyn, the court clerk alerted Judge Houghton and he emerged from his chambers and retook his seat on the bench. He scanned the courtroom, eyeing those at the front tables as well as those in the gallery. His eyes seemed to hold on Haller as a recognizable face. He then got down to work.

“Next on the docket, California versus Borders, a habeas matter and motion to vacate set for evidentiary hearing,” Houghton said. “Before proceeding I want to make clear that the Court expects the rules of decorum to be followed at all times. Any outburst from the gallery will result in the quick removal of the offending party.”

As he spoke, Houghton was looking directly at the group of young women who had come to get a look at Borders. He then continued with the business at hand.

“We also have a motion to be heard that was filed on Friday by Mr. Haller, who I see in the back of the courtroom. Why don’t you come up, Mr. Haller. Your client can take a seat in the gallery.”

While Bosch slid into the row next to Cisco, his lawyer started up the center aisle toward the well of the courtroom. Before he even got to the gate, Kennedy was on his feet, objecting to Haller’s motion on technical terms. He argued that the motion was filed too late in the game and was without merit. Lance Cronyn stood and offered support to Kennedy’s argument, adding his own description of Haller’s motion.

“Your Honor, this is just a stunt by Mr. Haller to curry favor with the media,” Cronyn said. “As Mr. Kennedy aptly put it, this motion has no merit. Mr. Haller is simply looking for some free advertising at the expense of my client, who has suffered and waited for this day for thirty years.”

Haller had pushed through the gate and moved to a lectern located between the two tables at the head of the room.

“Mr. Haller, I’m assuming you have a response to that,” Houghton said.

“Indeed, I do, Your Honor,” Haller said. “For the record, I am Michael Haller, representing Detective Hieronymus Bosch in this matter. May it please the Court, my client has become aware of the petition for habeas corpus filed by Mr. Cronyn and supported by the District Attorney’s Office alleging that Mr. Bosch falsified material evidence used to convict Mr. Borders some twenty-nine years ago. Inexplicably, he was not subpoenaed for this hearing or otherwise invited to attend and testify in answer to these allegations. And I note here for the record that these unfounded allegations made their way into the Los Angeles Times and were reported as fact, and therefore have irrevocably damaged his professional and personal reputation, as well as his livelihood.”

“Mr. Haller, we don’t have all day,” Houghton said. “Make your argument.”

“Of course, Your Honor. My client fervently denies the allegations, which impugn his integrity, good name, and reputation. He has testimony and evidence he wants to present that is relevant and material to the resolution of these issues. In short, this whole thing is a scam, Your Honor, and we can prove it, if given the opportunity. Hence, I have filed on my client’s behalf a motion for leave to intervene, as well as a complaint answering the allegations against him. I have served notice to all parties, and it was most likely that service that resulted in the newspaper article mentioned earlier that trashed Mr. Bosch’s good reputation and standing in the law enforcement community.”