Майкл Коннелли - The Law of Innocence

“Any idea what the falling-out was?” Jennifer asked. “Why was Sam killed?”

“Another hole we have to fill,” I said. “And my guess is that the FBI is at the bottom of that hole.”

“They flipped him?” Cisco half asked, half suggested.

I nodded.

“I think it’s something along those lines,” I said. “Opparizio found out and Sam had to go.”

“But the smart move would have been to just make him disappear,” Cisco said. “Why put the body anyplace where it could and would be found?”

“Right,” I said. “That goes on the list of unknowns. But I think that simply disappearing Sam might have brought in more scrutiny from the feds. Doing it the way they did would help insulate BioGreen and maybe make it look like it had nothing to do with the scam down there.”

“Not to mention Opparizio knew this was a good way to get back at you, boss,” Cisco added.

“Most of this is just theory,” Jennifer said. “What’s next? How do we turn theory into a solid defense?”

“Opparizio,” I said. “We find him, serve him, and make sure the judge enforces the subpoena.”

“That only gets him to court,” Jennifer said. “Last time you wanted him to take the Fifth, but this time you have to get him to actually testify.”

“Not necessarily,” I said. “If we have the goods on him, it’ll be about the questions we ask, not the answers. He can take the Fifth all he wants. The jury will hear the story in the questions.”

I turned my eyes to Cisco. “So, where is he?” I asked.

“We’ve been on the girlfriend, what, five days now?” Cisco said. “And no sign of him. We may need to shake things up. Throw a scare at her, create a need for her to see him.”

I shook my head.

“I think it’s too early for that,” I said. “We have some time. We don’t want to subpoena him till pretty late in the game. Otherwise, Iceberg will be onto us.”

“She is already,” Jennifer said. “She would have gotten copied on the FBI subpoena.”

“But my guess is she saw that as a shot in the dark,” I said. “A fishing expedition to see if the feds had anything. Even the judge thought that. Anyway, I don’t want to go for a subpoena yet. That will give the prosecution too much time to cover our ground. So we need to find him first and then watch him until it’s time.”

“That can be done,” Cisco said. “But it will cost. I didn’t realize we were talking about running this up to the trial.”

“How much?” I asked.

“We’re running four grand a day with the surveillance package we’ve got out there now,” Cisco said.

I looked at Lorna, the keeper of the practice’s bank accounts. She shook her head.

“We’re four weeks out from trial,” she said. “You’ll need a hundred thousand to keep it going, Mickey. We don’t have that.”

“Unless you go back to Andre La Cosse or Bosch,” Jennifer said. “They got off easy on your bail but had been willing to pony up six figures each.”

“No on Bosch,” I said. “I should be paying him rather than asking him for money. Lorna, see if you can set up a dinner between me and Andre. I’ll see what he’s willing to do.”

“Maybe Cisco can negotiate a discount?” Lorna said, looking across the table at her husband. “Mickey is a repeat client, after all.”

“I can try for it,” Cisco said.

I knew that he probably got a piece of any business he brought to the Indians. So Lorna’s suggestion hit him in his own wallet.

“Good,” I said.

“So, what about the FBI?” Jennifer said, changing the subject. “The FOIA and subpoena went nowhere. We could formally go to the U.S. Attorney with a Touhy letter. But we all know the feds can just sit on it, and it won’t work with our timeframe.”

“What’s a Touhy letter?” Cisco asked.

“Step one in a protocol for demanding a federal agent’s testimony,” Jennifer said. “Named after an Illinois convict whose case created it.”

“You’re right, though,” I said. “It’ll take forever. But there might be an end run with the bureau. And if we make enough waves at BioGreen or at least threaten to, they may come to the table.”

“Good luck with that,” Jennifer said.

“Yeah, luck is what we need,” I said.

And that put a solemn cap on the meeting.

Wednesdays had always been my night with my daughter but things had shifted with law school. She had a torts study group that met at seven, so I was relegated to the early-bird special. We’d meet on campus or close by for a quick and early dinner and then she would go off to the law school and the group’s meeting room.

I had Bishop drop me off at the gate on Exposition Boulevard. Before getting out, I handed sixty dollars over the seat to him.

“Pick me up here in two hours,” I said. “Meantime, use that money to buy me a prepaid burner and then get yourself something to eat with the rest. If there’s time after that, set up the burner. I’ll need to make a call on it when I get back.”

“You got it,” Bishop said. “You want to be able to text?”

“Not necessary. If it goes right, I’ll make one call and receive another. That’s it.”

I walked across campus from there to Moreton Fig in the student center. I found Hayley at an outside table near the towering tree the restaurant was named for. And to my surprise, she was sitting with her mother. They were on the same side of the table, so when I sat down I was facing them both.

“Well, this is a nice surprise,” I said. “Good to see you, Mags.”

“Good to see you too. Are you going to eat?” Maggie asked.

“Uh, that’s why I’m here,” I said. “And to see our daughter.”

“Well, you don’t look like you’re eating,” she countered. “You’ve been out of lockup for, what, a month? And it looks like you’re still losing weight. What’s going on with you, Mickey?”

“What is this, an intervention?” I asked.

“We’re worried about you, Dad,” Hayley said. “I asked Mom to come.”

“Yeah, well, try being charged with a murder you didn’t commit,” I said. “It wears you down, whether you’re in jail or not.”

“How can we help?” Maggie said.

I paused before answering while a waitress brought us menus. Maggie refused a menu, saying she wasn’t going to eat.

“You’re here to tell me I have to start eating but you’re not going to eat?” I said.

“I know these dinners are special,” Maggie said. “For both of you — going all the way back to when you used to get pancakes at the Du-Par’s that isn’t there anymore. I just wanted to see you and ask how you’re doing, then let you two be together.”

“You can stay,” I said. “We would always make room for you.”

“No, I have plans,” Maggie said. “I’m going to go, but you didn’t answer my question. How can we help you, Mickey?”

“Well,” I said, “you could start by telling your colleague, Iceberg, that she’s so blinded by the idea of having me as a trophy on her shelf that she’s not seeing the case for what it really is. A set—”

Maggie waved her hands to cut me off.

“I’m talking about what we could do outside the courtroom,” she said. “This is an extremely awkward work situation, as you know. They’ve kept me far away from the case because of the conflict of interest, but I don’t even have to see the case or the evidence to know there’s no way you did this. Just as I know you’re going to win the case. Hayley and I could never think otherwise. But you need to be able to win the case, and your physical health is key. And you look like shit, Mickey. I’m sorry, but I’ve seen you in court. Hayley said you got your suits altered, but you still look like skin and bones. You’ve got circles under your eyes... you don’t look confident. You don’t look like the Lincoln Lawyer we know and love.”