The Fifth Witness: A Novel

by Michael Connelly

  I called Lorna and told her I was on the way in. I filled her in about the deal I had made with McReynolds and said to expect a call from the Archway legal department before the end of the day. She was excited about the prospect of money coming in on the case instead of going out only.

  “What else?”

  “Andrea Freeman’s called twice.”

  I thought about the four calls on my cell.

  “You give her my cell?”

  “I did.”

  “I think I just missed her but she didn’t leave a message. Something must be up.”

  Lorna gave me the number Andrea had left with her.

  “Maybe you can reach her if you call right back. I’ll let you go.”

  “Okay, but where’s everybody at right now, in or out?”

  “Jennifer’s here in her office and I just heard from Cisco. He’s heading back from some field work.”

  “What field work?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  “Okay, then I’ll see everybody when I get there.”

  I disconnected and called the number for Freeman. I had not heard from her since I’d been attacked by the black-gloved boys. Even Kurlen had come by to visit and check on me. But not even a get-well-soon card from my worthy opponent. Now six calls in one morning but no messages. I was certainly curious.

  She answered after one ring and got right down to business.

  “When can you come in?” she said. “I’d like to float something by you before we hit the gas and go.”

  It was her way of saying she was open to the possibility of ending this case with a plea agreement before the whole machinery of a trial started to crank to life.

  “I thought you said there wasn’t going to be an offer.”

  “Well, let’s just say cooler heads have prevailed. I’m not stepping back from what I think of your moves on this case, but I don’t see why your client should pay for your actions.”

  Something was going on. I could sense it. Some sort of problem with her case had come up. A piece of evidence lost or a witness had changed stories. I thought of Margo Schafer. Maybe there was a problem with the eyewitness. After all, Freeman hadn’t trotted her out during the prelim.

  “I don’t want to come into the DA’s office. You can come to my office or we meet on neutral ground.”

  “I’m not afraid to enter the enemy’s camp. Where’s your office?”

  I gave her the address and we agreed to meet in an hour. I disconnected the call and tried to zero in on what could have gone wrong with the state’s case at this point in the game. I came back to Schafer again. It had to be her.

  My phone vibrated in my hand and I looked down at the screen.

  ID UNAVAILABLE

  Freeman was calling me back, probably to cancel the meeting and reveal that the whole thing was a charade, just another maneuver out of the prosecutorial psych-ops manual. I pushed the button and connected.

  “Yes?”

  Silence.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Michael Haller?”

  A male voice, one I didn’t recognize.

  “Yes, who is this?”

  “Jeff Trammel.”

  For some reason it took me a moment to place the name, and then it came through to me big time. The prodigal husband.

  “Jeff Trammel, yes, how are you?”

  “I’m good, I guess.”

  “How did you get this number?”

  “I was talking to Lisa this morning. I checked in. She told me I should call you.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did. Jeff, are you aware of the situation your wife is in?”

  “Yes, she told me.”

  “You didn’t see it on the news?”

  “There’s no TV or anything here. I can’t read Spanish.”

  “Where exactly are you, Jeff?”

  “I’d rather not say. You’d probably tell Lisa and I’d rather she didn’t have that information right now.”

  “Will you be coming back for the trial?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have any money.”

  “We could get you some money for travel. You could come back here and be with your wife and son during this difficult time. You could also testify, Jeff. Testify about the house and the bank and all the pressures.”

  “Um… no, I couldn’t. I don’t want to put myself out like that, Mr. Haller. My failings. That wouldn’t feel right.”

  “Not even to save your wife?”

  “More like my ex-wife. We just haven’t made it all legal.”

  “Jeff, what do you want? Do you want money?”

  There was a long pause. Now we would get down to it. But then he surprised me.

  “I don’t want anything, Mr. Haller.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “I just want to be left out of it. It’s not my life anymore.”

  “Where are you, Jeff? Where is your life now?”

  “I’m not telling you that.”

  I shook my head in frustration. I wanted to keep him on the phone like a cop trying for a trace, only there was no trace.

  “Look, Jeff, I hate to bring this up but it’s my job to cover all the bases, you know what I mean? And if we lose this case and there’s a conviction, then Lisa will be sentenced. There will be a time when her loved ones and her friends will be able to address the court and say good things about her. We will be able to bring up what we consider to be mitigating factors. Her fight to keep the house, for example. I would want to be able to count on you to come in and testify.”

  “Then you think you’re going to lose?”

  “No, I think we have a damn good chance of winning this thing. I really do. It’s an entirely circumstantial case with a witness I think we can blow out of the water. But I have to be prepared for the opposite result. Are you sure you can’t tell me where you are, Jeff? I can keep it confidential. I mean, I’ll need to know where you are if we’re going to send you money.”

  “I need to go now.”

  “What about the money, Jeff?”

  “I’ll call you back.”

  “Jeff?”

  He was gone.

  “I almost had him, Rojas.”

  “Sorry, Boss.”

  I put the phone down on the armrest for a moment and looked out to see where we were. The 101 through the Cahuenga Pass. I was still another twenty minutes out.

  Jeff Trammel hadn’t said no to the money the last time I mentioned it.

  My next call was to my client. When she answered I heard TV noise in the background.

  “Lisa, it’s Mickey. We need to talk.”

  “Okay.”

  “Can you turn that TV off?”

  “Oh, sure. Sorry.”

  I waited and soon her end was silent.

  “Okay.”

  “First of all, your husband just called me. You gave him my number?”

  “Yes, you told me to, remember?”

  “Yes, that’s fine. I was just checking. It didn’t go well. It sounds like he wants to stay away.”

  “That’s what he told me.”

  “Did he tell you where he is? If I knew that I could send Cisco to convince him to help us.”

  “He wouldn’t tell me.”

  “I think he might still be in Mexico. He said he had no money.”

  “He said the same to me. He wants me to send him some of the movie money.”

  “You told him about that?”

  “There’s going to be a movie, Mickey. He should know.”

  Or maybe she meant that he should have his nose rubbed in it.

  “Where were you going to send the money?”

  “He said I could just deposit it in Western Union and he could access it from any of their offices.”

  I knew there were Western Union offices all over Tijuana and points south. I’d sent money to clients before. We could send the money and then narrow things down by seeing which office Jeff Trammel went into to get the cash. But if he was smar
t he wouldn’t go to the office closest to where he was living and we’d be back to square one.

  “Okay,” I said. “We’ll think about Jeff later. I also wanted to tell you that the deal Herb Dahl made with Archway has changed.”

  “How so?”

  “It’s with me now. I just left Archway. Herb can still produce if they ever make a movie. And he gets to stay out of jail. So he comes out ahead. You come out ahead because your defense team will now be paid for their work and you’ll get the rest, which by the way will be much more than you were ever going to see from Herb.”

  “Mickey, you can’t do that! He made that deal!”

  “I just unmade it, Lisa. Clegg McReynolds wasn’t interested in being entangled in the legal net I was about to throw over Herb’s head. You can tell Herb or you can have him call me if he wants.”

  She was silent.

  “There’s one more thing and this is important. You listening?”

  “Yes, I’m here.”

  “I’m going to the office where I’m going to meet with the prosecutor. She called the meeting. I think something’s up. Something’s gone wrong for their side. She wants to talk about a deal and she would have never agreed to come to my office if she didn’t have to. I just wanted you to know. I’ll call you after the meeting.”

  “No deals, Mickey, unless she’s offering to stand on the steps of the courthouse and announce to CNN and Fox and all the others that I’m innocent.”

  I felt the car swerve from course and looked out the window. Rojas was bailing off the freeway early because of traffic.

  “Well, I don’t think that’s what she’s coming over to offer, but it is my duty to keep you informed of your choices. I don’t want you to become some sort of martyr for this… this cause of yours. You should listen to all offers, Lisa.”

  “I’m not pleading guilty. Period. Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

  “I’m good for now. I will call you later.”

  I put the phone down on the armrest. Enough talk for now. I closed my eyes to rest for a few minutes. I tried to wiggle my fingers in the plaster and the effort hurt but was successful. The doctor who studied the X-rays said he believed the damage had occurred when someone stomped on my hand after I was on the ground and already unconscious. Lucky for me, I guess. He predicted full recovery for the fingers.

  In the dark world behind my eyelids I saw the men in black gloves moving toward me. It played in a repetitive loop. I saw the dispassionate look in their eyes as they approached me. It was just a piece of business for them. Nothing else on the line. For me it was four decades of confidence and self-esteem shattered like small bones on the pavement.

  After a while I heard Rojas from the front seat.

  “Hey, Boss, we’re here.”

  Fifteen

  As I entered the reception area Lorna waved a hand in warning from behind the desk. She then pointed toward the door to my office. She was telling me that Andrea Freeman was already in there waiting. I made a quick detour to the other office, knocked once and opened the door. Cisco and Bullocks were behind their desks. I went to Cisco’s and put my phone down in front of him.

  “Lisa’s husband called. In fact he called several times. Unavailable ID. Can you see what you can do?”

  He rubbed a finger across his mouth as he considered the request.

  “Our carrier has a threat-trace service. I give the exact time of the calls and they’ll see what they can find. Takes a few days but all they’ll be able to do is identify the number, not the location. You need law enforcement if you are going to try to triangulate this guy’s location.”

  “I just want the number. Next time I want to call him instead of the other way around.”

  “You got it.”

  As I turned to leave I looked at Aronson.

  “Bullocks, you want to come in and see what the district attorney’s office has to say?”

  “Love to.”

  We moved through the suite to my office. Freeman was sitting in a chair in front of my desk, reading e-mail on her phone. She was in non-court clothes. Blue jeans and a pullover sweater. It must’ve been all inside work today. I closed the door and she looked up.

  “Andrea, can I get you something to drink?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “And you know Jennifer from the prelim.”

  “Silent Jennifer, of course. Didn’t make a peep at the prelim.”

  As I came around my desk I checked Aronson and saw her face and neck start to color with embarrassment. I tried to throw her a line.

  “Oh, she wanted to make a peep or two but she had her orders from me. Strategy, you know. Jennifer, pull that chair over.”

  Aronson dragged a side chair toward the desk and sat down.

  “So, here we are,” I said. “What brings the DA’s office to my humble place of work?”

  “Well, we’re getting close and I thought, you know. I figured you work the whole county and might not be as familiar with Judge Perry as I am.”

  “That’s an understatement. I’ve never even been in front of him.”

  “Well, he likes to keep a clean docket. He doesn’t care about headlines and hoopla. He’ll just want to know that there was a vigorous effort to end this matter through disposition. So I thought maybe we could have one more discussion about it before we get down to a full-blown trial.”

  “One more? I don’t remember the first discussion.”

  “Do you want to talk about it or not?”

  I leaned back and swiveled in my chair as if mulling the question over. This was all a little dance and we both knew it. Freeman wasn’t acting out of some desire to please Judge Perry. There was something else unseen in the room. Something had gone wrong and there was an opportunity for the defense. I wiggled my fingers in the cast, trying to relieve an itch on my palm.

  “Well…,” I said. “I’m not sure what you’re thinking. Every time I bring up a plea with my client she tells me to pound sand. She wants a trial. Of course, I’ve seen this before. The old no deal, no deal, no deal, yes deal scenario.”

  “Right.”

  “But my hands are sort of tied here, Andrea. My client has twice forbidden me from approaching your office with a tender. She won’t allow me to initiate. So here we are, you’ve come to me, so that works. But you have to open negotiations. You tell me what you’re thinking.”

  Freeman nodded.

  “Fair enough. I did make the call after all. Are we in agreement that this is off the record? Nothing leaves this room if no agreement is eventually struck.”

  “Sure.”

  Aronson nodded along with me.

  “Okay then, this is what we are thinking. And this already has approval from on high. We drop down to man and recommend the mid-level.”

  I nodded, projecting my lower lip in a manner that suggested that it was an offer with merit. But I knew that if she opened with manslaughter with a mid-range sentence recommendation, it could only get better for my client. I also knew that my instincts were right. There was no way the DA would float an offer like this unless something was seriously wrong. By my estimation their case was weak from the moment they put the cuffs on my client. But now something had fallen out of place. Something big, and I had to find out what that was.

  “That’s a good offer,” I said.

  “You’re damn right. We’re coming down off premeditated and lying in wait.”

  “I’m assuming we’re talking voluntary manslaughter?”

  “It would be hard even for you to make a case for involuntary. It’s not like she just happened to be in that garage. Do you think she’ll take it?”

  “I don’t know. She’s said since the start no deals. She wants a trial. I can try to sell it. It’s just that…”

  “Just that what?”

  “I’m curious, you know? Why such a nice offer? Why are you coming down to this? What’s gone wrong inside your case that makes you feel you need to cut and run?”

/>   “This is not cutting and running. She’ll still go to prison and there will still be justice. There’s nothing wrong with our case but trials are expensive and long. Across the board the DA’s office is trying for dispositions over trials. But dispositions that make sense. This is one of those times. You don’t want it, I’m ready to go.”

  I held my hands up in surrender. I could see her focus on the plaster cast on my left hand.

  “It’s not whether I want it. It’s my client’s choice and I have to give her all the information I can, that’s all. I’ve been in this position before. Usually a deal this good is too good to be true. You take it and you end up finding out later that the main witness was going to flake out or the prosecution just picked up a nice piece of exculpatory evidence you would’ve gotten in discovery if you’d hung on just a little bit longer.”

  “Yeah, well, not this time. It is what it is. You have twenty-four hours and then it comes off the table.”

  “What about going with the low range?”

  “What?”

  It was almost a shriek.

  “Come on, you didn’t come in here and give me your last, best offer. No one works that way. You have one more give and we both know it. Voluntary manslaughter, low-range sentencing recommendation. She’ll do five to seven tops.”

  “You’re killing me. The press will eat me alive.”

  “Maybe, but I know your boss didn’t send you over here with one offer, Andrea.”

  She leaned back and looked at Aronson and then around the rest of the room, her eyes trailing over the shelves of books that came with the office.

  I waited. I glanced at Aronson and winked. I knew what was coming.

  “I’m sorry about your hand,” Freeman said. “That must’ve hurt.”

  “Actually, it didn’t. I was already down for the count when they did it. I never felt a thing.”

  I held up my hand again and wiggled my fingers, their tips moving along the top edge of the cast.

  “I can already move them pretty good.”

  “Okay, low range. I still need to hear back in twenty-four hours. And this is all off the record. Other than to your client, this is not to be revealed outside of this room if it doesn’t go.”

  “We already agreed to that.”

  “Okay, then I guess that’s it. I’ll be heading back.”