Robert Crais - Sunset Express

We double-parked in front of his building, jamming up the west-bound flow on Sunset, and walked in past the receptionist and the security guys in their blazers. A blond security guy with a red face tried to make a deal about stopping us to see the warrant, but Dan Tomsic said, 'You've gotta be kidding,' and motioned at the uniforms to walk the guy out of the way.

We took the elevator up to the fourth floor and Sherman said, 'You've been here before. Which way?'

I showed them to Green's office. Green had not been notified of Elliot Truly's death, nor of the deaths of his other people, nor had it yet hit the news. As we walked through the halls, lawyers and legal assistants and secretaries and clerks appeared in their doors. Jonathan Green's secretary stood as we approached, and I said, 'Knock knock knock, Chicken Delight!'

She looked at Anna Sherman. 'May I help you?'

Anna Sherman said, 'No.' We trooped past the secretary and through the door and into Green's office. Green and the two lesser attorneys and the videographer and three people I'd never seen before were seated around his conference table with their jackets off and their sleeves rolled. The videographer and his sound tech were seated in the background, the camera on the floor, sipping coffee and talking between themselves. Guess there's only so much you can do with endless footage of lawyers sitting around tables. Jonathan Green looked at us without a great deal of surprise and said, 'Doors are made for knocking.'

I said, 'Not bad. I was kinda hoping you'd say, "What's the meaning of this?'"

Anna Sherman smiled sweetly. 'Sorry for the intrusion, Jonathan. But we're here to arrest you on the charges of tampering with evidence, obstruction of justice, conspiracy to commit murder, and murder.'

The videographer's eyes got big and his jaw dropped. I waved at his camera. 'Better turn it on. You don't want to miss this.' The videographer jumped across the sound tech for his camera, spilling both his coffee and hers.

Anna Sherman turned to Lincoln Gibbs. 'Lieutenant, please inform Mr Green of his rights and take him into custody.'

Lt. Lincoln Gibbs handed the warrant forms to Jonathan, then recited his rights. Jonathan didn't interupt, and didn't bother to examine the forms. He sat with a kind of half-smile, as if he had anticipated these events. Maybe he had. When Gibbs finished with the rights, he said, 'Would you stand, sir? I have to handcuff you.' Polite.

Jonathan submitted without complaint. He said, 'Anna, this is the most flagrant case of judicial manipulation I've ever seen. I'll have you before the bar for this.'

Anna Sherman said, 'Teddy Martin has jumped bail and is on his way to Brazil. Elliot Truly, Stan Kerris, and two other men in your employ are dead. Elliot Truly supplied a dying declaration implicating you in the manufacture of false evidence, as well as the murder of James Lester and the kidnapping of Louise Earle.'

Jonathan Green said, 'That's absurd. I don't know what you're talking about.' He angled his face toward the camera when he said it.

She said, 'That's why we have trials, Jonathan. To determine the facts.'

Lincoln Gibbs took Green by the arm and guided him to the door. Jonathan Green turned back just long enough to say, 'We won't get to trial, Anna.' He smiled when he said it, and his smile was confident and without fear. 'I guess you believe you have reason to do this, but for the life of me I can't imagine what it might be.' He angled toward the video camera again. 'I look forward to seeing your proof, and I hope for your sake that this isn't some ugly form of harassment.'

Gibbs and Tomsic escorted him out, the videographer scurrying ahead of them to capture every moment of the arrest and departure.

I stood with Sherman, watching them go, and wondered at Jonathan Green's lack of concern. I was thinking that maybe he was crazy, or arrogant, or brimming with the fatal flaw of hubris, but you never know. Maybe he was just used to winning.

Theodore Martin's flight from the country was covered throughout the evening by every one of the local Los Angeles television stations, effectively eliminating regular programming. Live news remote teams assaulted Skyway Aviation, Angela Rossi's home, Jonathan Green's office, and spokespeople for both the LAPD and the District Attorney's office. Angela Rossi did not return home that night, and so was unavailable for comment. She picked up her boys and spent the night with a friend. The Skyway people were available, however, and were more than a little surprised by the army of microwave vans and news teams who invaded their otherwise quiet world.

The Skyway employees who were interviewed included the flight operations manager, a young female flight dispatcher, and an even younger male line attendant. The line attendant was a seventeen-year-old kid name Billy Galovich who washed the planes, pumped them full of jet fuel, and pushed them in and out of a hangar with a little tractor. The sum total of his involvement in Teddy Martin's escape was that he had towed out Teddy's Citation, fueled it, then greeted the pilot, a very nice Hispanic man who introduced himself as Mr Garcia. I counted fourteen interviews with Billy Galovich that evening, and then I stopped counting.

The flight dispatcher's claim to fame was that she had taken the call from Teddy Martin, who personally ordered that his Citation be readied for flight. The dispatcher's name was Shannon Denleigh, and she related that Mr Martin told her that his pilot would be a man named Mr Roberto Garcia, and that Mr Garcia would be along directly. She said that she informed the flight operations manager, a Mr Dale Ellison, of the call and then she left the premises to have her nails done. I stopped counting her interviews at sixteen. Dale Ellison related that Mr Garcia arrived moments later, preflighted the Citation, and filed his flight plan. He said that Mr Garcia was an amiable, friendly man who identified himself as a flight officer with Air Argentina who picked up corporate charters to earn extra money. I didn't bother to count the number of times that Dale Ellison was interviewed, but it was plenty.

Reports of Jonathan Green's arrest and the charges against him were interspersed with the coverage of Teddy's flight, but when the newspeople discovered that the Citation was still in the air, the real show began. Reporters and cameras descended upon the FAA and the various Flight Operations Centers between Los Angeles and Rio. The Citation's path was charted, and its progress was depicted on a global map. It was kind of like watching the beginning of Casablanca . Every network put a little clock in the corner of their picture, counting down the time until the Citation landed. Crime and show business had merged.

Foreign bureau reporters flocked to the Rio de Janeiro airport, and Teddy Martin's landing was covered live even though it was after midnight in Rio and you really couldn't see anything. The Citation taxied to a private flight service facility for corporate jets where it was met by Brazilian authorities and a small army of newspeople. A spokesman for the Brazilian authorities said that Mr Martin would be questioned as to his plans, but thereafter would be free to go. Teddy Martin pushed through the cameras with his face covered, ignoring the shouting reporters. He reached the flight service facility's door, then apparently changed his mind and paused to make a short statement. Teddy Martin said, 'Please don't interpret my flight from California as indicative of guilt. I promise you, I swear to you all, that I did not murder my wife. I loved her. I left because I am convinced that I could not and would not get a fair and just hearing. I do not know why they are doing this to me.' He disappeared into the building and must have slipped out by some prearranged and secret manner because he was not seen again.