James Patterson: 10th Anniversary

He was smiling. At her.

“I peeked in this morning. Saw your examination of that private eye. Fantastic job, Yuki,” he said. “I’m impressed.”

“Thanks, Len. LaVan just called us into chambers,” Yuki said, taking the chair in front of his desk.

“Oh? What was that about?”

“Hoffman had the defendant’s kids in the courtroom, half to gain sympathy from the jury, half to rattle me. I objected, but LaVan overruled me.

“So I’ve got the Martins’ nanny on the stand, and she says if she’d called the police on Candace, Dennis would still be alive. And, Len, the little boy just screams for his nanny. Nanny calls out to him from the stand, ‘There, there, I’m here, baby.’”

“Huh, huh, huh,” Parisi grunted sympathetically.

“Court’s adjourned for the day. The judge says to me and Hoffman, ‘You two. See you in back.’ He tells Hoffman, any more out of the kids, he’s barring them from the courthouse.”

“Good. LaVan doesn’t kid around.”

“Len, tell me what you make of this. Hoffman came up to me afterward,” Yuki told her boss. “He said, ‘You know, Ellen Lafferty’s testimony was a pack of lies.’ I said, ‘Well, I sure didn’t see that on cross.’ Hoffman wanted to talk to me about it, but I didn’t have time. I knew it was just going to be more of his B.S.”

“Sure. He’s trying to mess with your head, Yuki. Shake your confidence. Disrupt your momentum, that SOB. Listen, switching gears, I’ve been wanting to tell you. Craig Jasper is leaving. Moving to San Diego at the end of the month.”

Craig Jasper was a bright light in the department and had been Parisi’s protégé. Yuki told Red Dog she was sorry, but he waved the comment away.

“I see opportunities for you, Yuki. You just need a couple of wins under your belt.”

Yuki’s face brightened and she nodded. She would love to get an upgrade in status and pay grade. It was really time. The Martin case had been important a minute ago, and it just got more important.

“I’ve got a good feeling about this case,” she said, standing to leave.

“Me, too,” said Red Dog. And he smiled again.

Yuki fixed her makeup in the bathroom at the end of the hallway. She was psyched at the idea of the job and more responsibility, but it also meant more pressure. And she already had no shortage of that.

She had a date later with a guy who was almost too gorgeous for her. She hoped she could calm down and not talk too much, not scare the guy off.

They had a lot in common. The guy was a cop.

I WAS LEAVING for the day when Phil Hoffman galloped up to me in the all-day lot across from the Hall. I like Hoffman, even though his job is getting off killers and perverts and other living human garbage. He was one of the few criminal defense attorneys I’d met who could actually pull off this kind of dirty work without acting smug about it.

On the other hand, Yuki was locked in mortal combat with Hoffman and she was my friend.

“Hey, Phil,” I said as he pulled up next to the spot where I’d parked my Explorer. I took off my jacket and tossed it into the backseat.

“Lindsay, I need your help.”

“Can we talk tomorrow?” I asked him. “I’ve been slogging through hell all day,” I said, thinking of the dozens of consecutive hours I’d been working on finding the Richardson baby.

“This will only take a minute.”

“Okay, then. Shoot.”

“You’re aware of Candace Martin?”

“Sure. My colleague Paul Chi worked the Martin case. And Yuki, of course.”

“Yes. That’s right,” Hoffman said, putting his briefcase down on the asphalt. He ran a hand through his hair. “Something new has come up regarding the testimony of one of the witnesses. I asked Yuki to hear me out, but I’m the enemy. She’s not inclined to believe anything I say.”

“Phil, why don’t you just say your piece in court?”

“If I could get Yuki’s ear out of court, it would be better for all concerned. This new information I have is going to reverse the trial. Let me be clear. The case will be dismissed and you’ll be booking someone else for Dennis Martin’s murder.”

My mind spun. I heard what he said, but I didn’t get why Hoffman was talking to me. “How can I help you?”

“I want you to talk to my client.”

“Me?”

“Yes. After that, maybe you can get Yuki to hear me out.”

“So if I get this right, this is the long way around in getting Yuki to talk to you.”

Everything about Hoffman’s request was inappropriate. I was the wrong cop and he was going around everyone in the Hall of Justice. But Paul Chi reported to me. I had to worry if the SFPD and the District Attorney’s Office had the wrong person in the dock.

Hoffman’s request made me uncomfortable. But off the record? Unofficially?

Phil Hoffman had definitely gotten my attention.

INSPECTOR PAUL CHI is a certified genius and a lifelong student of criminal behavior. It was hard to believe that he had arrested the wrong person for the murder of Dennis Martin.

So what was Hoffman up to?

I left Joe a message saying I’d be late, then retraced my steps into the stream of Justice Department workers leaving the lobby of 850 Bryant.

Chi and McNeill were with Brady in the corner office when I rapped on the glass. Brady waved me in and Cappy McNeill stood, sucked in his stomach so I could get past him, and then gave me his chair. McNeill has five years on me both in age and time in grade. He’s not ambitious, but he’s steady. He’s all about instinct and experience and bringing down the bad guys.

As for Brady, I’d seen him go through a firestorm and confront a killer who had nothing to lose. Brady had guts to spare, but he was new to San Francisco. He didn’t know Phil Hoffman, and he hadn’t been in charge of Homicide when Candace Martin was investigated for murder.

I reset my ponytail and then laid out my conversation with Hoffman in the parking lot. “Bottom line, Hoffman says the wrong person is being charged with murder. He says we should withdraw the charges, reopen the case, and bring in the person who really killed Dennis Martin.”

“Really? And who does Hoffman say did it?” Chi asked me.

“Hoffman said his client will tell me.”

“Ah, shit, Lindsay,” McNeill grumbled. “Candace Martin damn well is the doer. Hoffman is cornered, so he’s working any angle he can dream up. And I gotta give him credit. This angle is pretty damned creative.”

“This case opened and shut itself,” said Chi. “And then it tied itself with a big red bow.” He started ticking off the physical evidence on his fingers: gun, prints, GSR.

“You’re saying that no innocent person has ever been convicted?” I asked Chi.

“What’s in this for you, Sergeant, because I just don’t get where you’re going,” Brady said. He texted a message, closed the phone, and put his eyes on me. “How many hours have you worked in the past twenty-four?”

“I don’t keep track.”

“I do. You’ve gone about eighteen hours straight. The Martin case was closed — what, a year ago? It’s in the hands of the justice system. So go home, Boxer. Get some sleep. Tomorrow let’s see some progress on Richardson.”

I felt the little hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. First time I’d ever felt this kind of opposition from Chi and McNeill. As for the new lieutenant? I didn’t know if his mind was just closed — or if he was right.

I threw up my hands, said okay, and left the squad room again. I called Hoffman from the stairwell and told him I’d meet him on the seventh floor in five minutes.