Майкл Коннелли - The Law of Innocence

“He wants you, Mick.”

“What’s that mean?”

“He said he would give only you the name. He knows about you. Scales must’ve told him that you were a good lawyer. Neiderland says he’ll give you the name if you just come up, sign in as his lawyer, and talk to him. See if there’s anything to be done on his case, I guess. He’s still got two years on his sentence. That means he still has to do eighteen months.”

“You mean today? Come there today?”

“Can you? I’ll set it up and wait here for you.”

“Harry, I can’t. I’ve got an ankle monitor and bail restrictions. I can’t leave the county.”

“Shit, I forgot.”

“What about a video connection? Can we set up something like that?”

“I checked and the prison only does it for court hearings. No teleconferencing interviews or attorney-client meetings.”

There was silence on the phone while I thought about this.

“So, what else did he say about this name?” I finally asked. “I mean, what if we jump through all these hoops and he says, yeah, it’s Louis Opparizio. Then we’re nowhere. We already have that name.”

“It’s not Opparizio,” Bosch said. “I tried that name on him and got a read. He didn’t know it.”

“Okay, so can this even be done today? I have court tomorrow. Even if I can convince the judge to let me go up there, I have to be back tonight — tomorrow morning at the latest. You think I can get in and out? It’s a prison, and they don’t like cooperating with defense lawyers.”

“Your call, Mick, but if you have to talk to the judge to get permission, maybe she can write you an order that gets you in.”

“Different states, Harry. She doesn’t have jurisdiction.”

“Well... what do you want to do?”

“Okay, hold tight. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll call you back as soon as I know something.”

I disconnected and thought about the best way to approach this. Then I called Lorna and asked if there was anything on my schedule.

“Your first witness list is due today,” she said. “But that’s it. And then you have the continuation of yesterday’s hearing tomorrow at one.”

“Okay, I already have a wit list ready,” I said. “I’ll send it in. I might be going to Las Vegas — if the judge lets me.”

“What’s in Vegas?”

“A prison where Sam Scales last served time. I want to talk to the guy he shared a cell with.”

“Good luck with that. Let me know.”

I next called Judge Warfield’s courtroom and got her clerk, Andrew. I said I wanted to set up a teleconference with the judge requesting that I be allowed to leave the county for the day to pursue a witness. The clerk said he would check with the judge and call me back. I reminded him that Dana Berg would need to be alerted.

While I waited, I decided to act as if I would gain the judge’s permission and I booked flights on JetSuite out of Burbank to Las Vegas. The outbound left in two hours.

Thirty minutes went by with no return call from the judge or her clerk. I called the courtroom back and pushed for an answer. Andrew said the judge was okay with a teleconference but Dana Berg had not responded to a message left for her.

“Can the judge just talk to me, then?” I asked. “This is time-sensitive. I can see this potential witness today only and need to know whether I can go. If you leave a message for Berg saying when the conference is taking place, my guess is she’ll respond and be on the call. If you just wait for her to call back, we’re going to be waiting all day.”

The clerk took what I said under advisement and said he would get back to me. Another twenty minutes went by and Andrew called, saying he was connecting me to a conference call with the judge and Deputy D.A. Dana Berg. My plane was leaving in seventy minutes.

Soon I heard the judge’s voice on the phone.

“I think we have everybody here,” she said. “Mr. Haller, you are asking for a deviation in bail restrictions?”

“Yes, Your Honor, just for one day,” I said. “I need to go to Las Vegas to see a witness.”

“Las Vegas. Really, Mr. Haller?”

“It’s not what you think, Judge. I won’t be anywhere near the Strip. Sam Scales was last incarcerated at High Desert State Prison about an hour north of Las Vegas. His cellmate is still there and I want to talk to him. The prosecution has given us nothing through discovery regarding Scales’s activities leading up to the murder. The cellmate could be an important witness for the defense. One of my investigators is at the prison as we speak. He said the inmate will only talk to me. I’ve booked an eleven forty flight to Vegas and a seven o’clock flight back.”

“That was a bit presumptuous, was it not, Mr. Haller?”

“No, Your Honor. I did not anticipate how the court would rule. I just wanted to make sure I could get there should the court allow it.”

“Ms. Berg, are you still with us? Does the prosecution object to the defense request?”

“Here, Your Honor,” Berg said. “I would first like to ask the name of the inmate he is going to see.”

“Austin Neiderland,” I said. “He’s at High Desert State Prison.”

“Your Honor,” Berg said. “The state objects to this travel outside of bail restrictions and maintains its original argument from the bail hearing. We believe Mr. Haller is a flight risk. More now than before because the closer we get to trial, the clearer it becomes to Mr. Haller that his conviction and permanent incarceration are certain.”

“Judge, the prosecution’s statement is ridiculous,” I said quickly. “I’ve now been out of custody for five weeks and I have done nothing but prepare for my defense, even with the handicap of being pitted against a prosecution that does not like to play by the rules.”

“Your Honor, there is no handicap and there is no evidence that the prosecution doesn’t play by the rules,” Berg said forcefully. “Defense counsel has been engaged since the beginning of—”

“Stop it, stop it,” Warfield shouted. “I do not intend to start my day playing referee to you two. I’m growing very weary of that. Now, as to the request, has counsel explored the possibility of teleconferencing this interview?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” I said. “Believe me, that would be the way to go, but my investigator told me the prison does not make that available for meetings besides court hearings.”

“Very well,” Warfield said. “The court is going to allow Mr. Haller to interview this witness. I will make the appropriate notification to the bail and detention folks, and, Mr. Haller, you need to be back in this county by midnight tonight or Ms. Berg’s prophecy will become true. You will be considered a fugitive. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” I said. “Thank you. And if I could make one other quick request?”

“Here we go,” Berg said.

“What is it, Mr. Haller?” Warfield asked.

“Your Honor, I have the ankle monitor and I’m sure that’s going to be a problem at the prison in Nevada,” I said.

“No way,” Berg jumped in forcefully. “You can’t be serious. We are not going to accept him taking off the monitor. The state—”

“I’m not asking for that,” I cut in. “I’m asking for a letter from the court that maybe Your Honor’s clerk could write up quickly and email me, explaining my standing — if it comes into question.”

There was a pause during which the judge was most likely waiting for Berg to object. But I thought the prosecutor probably believed she had overstepped with her loud objection to removal of the monitor. She had overplayed and now was silent.

“Very well,” Warfield said. “I will craft a note and have Andrew email it to you.”