Michael Connelly: The Fifth Witness

I couldn’t look at my colleagues. I stared off at Lisa filling balloons.

“So… we helped her get away with it.”

It was a statement from Lorna. Not a question.

“Double jeopardy,” Aronson said. “She can never be tried again.”

As if on cue Lisa looked over at us while she tied off the end of a white balloon. She handed it to another child.

And she smiled at me.

“Cisco, how much are they charging for the beer?”

“Five bucks a can. It’s a rip-off.”

“Mickey, don’t,” Lorna said. “It’s not worth it. You’ve been so good.”

I pulled my eyes away from my client and looked at Lorna.

“Good? Are you saying I’m one of the good guys?”

I got up and left them there and headed toward the backyard bar, where I took my place in line. I expected Lorna to follow me but it was Aronson who came up next to me. She spoke in a very low voice.

“Look, what are you doing? You told me not to grow a conscience. Are you telling me you did?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “All I know is that she played me like a fucking fiddle and you know what? She knows I know. She just gave me that smile. I saw it in her eyes. She’s proud of it. She pulled the tank into the yard so I would see it and I would know…”

I shook my head.

“She had me wired from day one. Everything was part of her plan. Every last-”

I stopped as I realized something.

“What?” Aronson asked.

I paused as I continued to put it together.

“What, Mickey?”

“Her husband wasn’t even her husband.”

“What do you mean?”

“The guy calling me, the guy who showed up. Where is he now for the big payday? He’s not here because that wasn’t him. He was just part of the play.”

“Then where is the husband?”

That was the question. But I had no answer. I didn’t have any answers anymore.

“I’m leaving.”

I stepped out of the line and headed toward the back door.

“Mickey, where are you going?”

I didn’t answer. I quickly passed through the house and out the front door. I had arrived early enough to grab a curb slot only two houses down. I was almost to the Lincoln when I heard my name called from behind.

It was Lisa. She was walking toward me in the street.

“Mickey! You’re leaving?”

“Yes, I’m leaving.”

“Why? The party’s just starting.”

She came up close to me and stopped.

“I’m leaving because I know, Lisa. I know.”

“What do you think you know?”

“That you used me like you use everybody. Even Herb Dahl.”

“Oh, come on, you’re a defense lawyer. You’ll get more business out of this than you’ve ever had before.”

Just like that, she acknowledged everything.

“What if I didn’t want the business? What if I just wanted to believe something was true?”

She paused. She didn’t get it.

“Get over yourself, Mickey. Wake up.”

I nodded. It was good advice.

“Who was he, Lisa?” I asked.

“Who was who?”

“The guy you sent me who said he was your husband.”

Now a small proud smile curled her bottom lip.

“Goodbye, Mickey. Thank you for everything.”

She turned and started walking back toward her house. And I got in my Lincoln and drove away.

I was in the backseat of the Lincoln cruising through the Third Street tunnel when my phone started to buzz. The screen said it was Maggie. I told Rojas to kill the music-it was “Judgement Day” off the latest Eric Clapton album-and took the call.

“Did you do it?” she asked first thing.

I looked out the window as we broke clear of the tunnel and into the bright sunlight. It fit with the way I was feeling. It had been three weeks since the verdict and the further I got away from it the better I felt. I was on the road to something else now.

“I did.”

“Wow! Congratulations.”

“I’m still the longest long shot you’ll ever see. The field is full and I’ve got no money.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re a name in this town and there’s a certain integrity about you that people see and respond to. I know I did. Plus you’re an outsider. Outsiders always win. So don’t kid yourself, the money will come.”

I wasn’t sure integrity and me belonged in the same sentence. But I’d take the rest and, besides, it was the happiest I’d heard Maggie McFierce in a long, long time.

“Well, we’ll see,” I said. “But as long as I have your vote, I don’t care if I get another.”

“That’s sweet, Haller. What’s next?”

“Good question. I have to go open a bank account and assemble a-”

My phone started beeping. I had another call coming in. I checked the screen and saw that it was blocked.

“Mags, hold on a second, let me just check this call.”

“Go ahead.”

I switched over.

“This is Michael Haller.”

“You did this.”

I recognized the angry voice. Lisa Trammel.

“Did what?”

“The police are here! They’re digging up the garden looking for him. You sent them!”

I assumed the “him” she referred to was her missing husband, who never quite made it to Mexico. Her voice had the familiar shrill tone it took on when she was on the edge of losing it.

“Lisa, I-”

“I need you here! I need a lawyer. They’re going to arrest me!”

Meaning that she knew what the police would find in the garden.

“Lisa, I’m not your lawyer anymore. I can recommend a-”

“Nooooo! You can’t abandon me! Not now!”

“Lisa, you just accused me of sending the cops. Now you want me to represent you?”

“I need you, Mickey. Please.”

She started crying, that long echoing sob I had heard too many times before.

“Get somebody else, Lisa. I’m done. With any luck I might even get to prosecute you.”

“What are you talking about?

“I just filed. I’m running for district attorney.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m changing my life. I’m tired of being around people like you.”

There was no response at first but I could hear her breathing. When she finally spoke, her voice had a flat, emotionless tone to it.

“I should have told Herb to have them maim you. That’s what you deserve.”

Now I was silent. I knew what she was talking about. The Mack brothers. Dahl had lied to me and said Opparizio had ordered the beating. But that didn’t fit with the rest of the story. This did. It had been Lisa who wanted it done. She was willing to have her own attorney attacked if it would deflect suspicion and help her case. If it would help me believe in other possibilities.

I managed to find my voice and say my final words to her.

“Goodbye, Lisa. And good luck.”

I composed myself and switched back over to my ex-wife.

“Sorry… it was a client. A former client.”

“Everything all right?”

I leaned against the window. Rojas was just turning on Alvarado and heading to the 101.

“I’m good. So you want to go somewhere tonight and talk about the campaign?”

“You know, while I was on hold I was thinking, why don’t you come to my place? We can eat with Hayley and then talk while she does her homework.”

It was a rare invite to her home.

“So a guy has to run for DA to get invited over to your place?”

“Don’t press your luck, Haller.”

“I won’t. What time?”

“Six.”

“See you then.”

I disconnected and stared out the window for a little while.

“Mr. Haller?” Rojas asked. “You’re running for DA?”

“Yeah. You have a problem with that, Rojas?”

“No, Boss. But do you still need a driver?”