Michael Connelly - The Reversal

To me the testimony came off as fresh and not rehearsed. This was a testament to the prep work of the two women. Maggie smoothly and efficiently brought her witness to the vital moment when Sarah reconfirmed her identification of Jessup.

“Was there any doubt at all in your mind when you identified Jason Jessup in nineteen eighty-six as the man who took your sister?”

“No, none at all.”

“It has been a long time, Sarah, but I ask you to look around the courtroom and tell the jury whether you see the man who abducted your sister on February sixteenth, nineteen eighty-six?”

“Yes, him.”

She spoke without hesitation and pointed her finger at Jessup.

“Would you tell us where he is seated and describe an article of clothing he is wearing?”

“He’s sitting next to Mr. Royce and he has a dark blue tie and a light blue shirt.”

I paused and looked at Judge Breitman.

“Let the record show that the witness has identified the defendant,” she said.

I went right back to Sarah.

“After all these years, do you have any doubt that he is the man who took your sister?”

“None at all.”

Maggie turned and looked at the judge.

“Your Honor, it may be a bit early but I think now would be a good time to take the afternoon break. I am going to go in a different direction with this witness at this point.”

“Very well,” Breitman said. “We will adjourn for fifteen minutes and I will expect to see everyone back here at two-thirty-five. Thank you.”

Sarah said she wanted to use the restroom and left the courtroom with Bosch running interference and making sure she would not cross paths with Jessup in the hallway. Maggie sat down at the defense table and we huddled.

“You have ’em, Maggie. This is what they’ve been waiting all week to hear and it’s better than they thought it was going to be.”

She knew I was talking about the jury. She didn’t need my approval or encouragement but I had to give it.

“Now comes the hard part,” she said. “I hope she holds up.”

“She’s doing great. And I’m sure Harry’s telling her that right now.”

Maggie didn’t respond. She started flipping through the legal pad that had her notes and the rough script of the examination. Soon she was immersed in the next hour’s work.

Wednesday, April 7, 2:30 P.M .

Bosch had to shoo away the reporters when Sarah Gleason came out of the restroom. Using his body as a shield against the cameras he walked her back to the courtroom.

“Sarah, you’re doing really well,” he said. “You keep it up and this guy’s going right back to where he belongs.”

“Thanks, but that was the easy part. It’s going to get hard now.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Sarah. There is no easy part. Just keep thinking about your sister, Melissa. Somebody has to stand up for her. And right now that’s you.”

As they got to the courtroom door, he realized that she had smoked a cigarette in the restroom. He could smell it on her.

Inside, he walked her down the center aisle and delivered her to Maggie McFierce, who was waiting at the gate. Bosch gave the prosecutor the nod. She was doing really well herself.

“Finish the job,” he said.

“We will,” Maggie said.

After passing the witness off, Bosch doubled back up the center aisle to the sixth row. He had spotted Rachel Walling sitting in the middle of the row. He now squeezed around several reporters and observers to get to her. The space next to her was open and he sat down.

“Harry.”

“Rachel.”

“I think the man who was in that space was planning on coming back.”

“That’s okay. Once court starts, I have to move back up. You should’ve told me you were coming. Mickey said you were here the other day.”

“When I have some time I like to come by. It’s a fascinating case so far.”

“Well, let’s hope the jury thinks it’s more than fascinating. I want this guy back in San Quentin so bad I can taste it.”

“Mickey told me Jessup was moonlighting. Is that still-”

She lowered her voice to a whisper when she saw Jessup walking down the aisle and back to his seat at the defense table.

“-happening?”

Bosch matched her whisper.

“Yeah, and last night it almost went completely south on us. The SIS lost him.”

“Oh, no.”

The judge’s door opened and she stepped out and headed up to the bench. Everyone stood. Bosch knew he had to get back to the prosecution table in case he was needed.

“But I found him,” he whispered. “I have to go, but are you sticking around this afternoon?”

“No, I have to go back to the office. I’m just on a break right now.”

“Okay, Rachel, thanks for coming by. I’ll talk to you.”

As people started sitting back down he worked his way out of the row and then quickly went back down the aisle and through the gate to take a seat in the row of chairs directly behind the prosecution table.

McPherson continued her direct examination of Sarah Ann Gleason. Bosch thought that both prosecutor and witness had been doing an exceptional job so far, but he also knew that they were moving into new territory now and soon everything said before wouldn’t matter if what was said now wasn’t delivered in a believable and unassailable fashion.

“Sarah,” McPherson began, “when did your mother marry Kensington Landy?”

“When I was six.”

“Did you like Ken Landy?”

“No, not really. At first things were okay but then everything changed.”

“You, in fact, attempted to run away from home just a few months before your sister’s death, isn’t that right?”

“Yes.”

“I show you People’s exhibit twelve, a police report dated November thirtieth, nineteen eighty-five. Can you tell the jury what that is?”

McPherson delivered copies of the report to the witness, the judge and the defense table. Bosch had found the report during his record search on the case. It had been a lucky break.

“It’s a missing persons report,” Gleason said. “My mother reported me missing.”

“And did the police find you?”

“No, I just came home. I didn’t have anyplace to go.”

“Why did you run away, Sarah?”

“Because my stepfather… was having sex with me.”

McPherson nodded and let the answer hang out there in the courtroom for a long moment. Three days ago Bosch would have expected Royce to jump all over this part of the testimony but now he knew that this played to the defense’s case as well. Kensington Landy was the straw man and any testimony that supported that would be welcomed.

“When did this start?” McPherson finally asked.

“The summer before I ran away,” Gleason responded. “The summer before Melissa got taken.”

“Sarah, I am sorry to put you through these bad memories. You testified earlier that you and Melissa shared some of each other’s clothes, correct?”

“Yes.”

“The dress she wore on the day she was taken, that was your dress, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

McPherson then introduced the dress as the state’s next exhibit and Bosch set it up for display to the jury on a headless manikin he placed in front of the jury box.

“Is this the dress, Sarah?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Now, you notice that there is a square of material removed from the bottom front hem of the dress. You see that, Sarah?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know why that was removed?”

“Yes, because they found semen on the dress there.”

“You mean forensic investigators?”

“Yes.”

“Now, is this something you knew back at the time of your sister’s death?”