The Fifth Witness: A Novel Read online

  “That’s impressive.”

  “I know. He’s very successful.”

  “Yes, you said that. So did you make some sort of agreement with him?”

  “Yes. He’ll put all the deals together and we split everything fifty-fifty after his expenses and he gets the bail money back. I mean, that’s only fair. But he’s talking about a lot of money. I might be able to save my house, Mickey!”

  “Did you sign something? A contract or any sort of agreement?”

  “Oh, yes, it’s all legal and binding. He has to give me my share.”

  “You know that because you showed it to your lawyer?”

  “Uh… no, but Herb said it was standard boilerplate. You know, legal mumbo-jumbo. But I read it.”

  Sure she did. Just like when she signed the contracts with me.

  “Can I see the contract, Lisa?”

  “Herb kept it. You can ask him.”

  “I will. Now did you happen to tell him about our agreements?”

  “Our agreements?”

  “Yes, you signed contracts with me yesterday at the police station, remember? One was for me to represent you criminally and the others granted me power of attorney to represent you and negotiate any sale of story rights so that we can fund your defense. You remember that you signed a lien?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Did you see I have three people out there, Lisa? We’re all working on your case. And you haven’t paid us a penny so far. So that means I have to come up with all their salaries, all their expenses. Every week. That’s why in the agreements you signed yesterday you were giving me the authority to make book and film deals.”

  “Oh… I didn’t read that part.”

  “Let me ask you something. Which is more important to you, Lisa, that you have the best defense possible and try to defy the odds and win this case, or that you have a book or movie deal?”

  Lisa put a pouting look on her face, and then promptly deflected the question.

  “But you don’t understand. I’m innocent. I didn’t—”

  “No, you don’t understand. Whether you’re innocent or not has nothing to do with this equation. It’s what we can prove or disprove in court. And when I say ‘we’ I really mean ‘me,’ Lisa. Me. I’m your hero, not Herb Dahl out there in the leather jacket and Hollywood piece sign. And I mean that as in piece of the pie.”

  She paused for a long moment before responding.

  “I can’t, Mickey. He just bailed me out. It cost him two hundred thousand dollars. He has to make that back.”

  “While your defense team goes hungry.”

  “No, you’re going to get paid, Mickey. I promise. I get half of everything. I’ll pay you.”

  “After he gets his two hundred grand back, plus expenses. Expenses that could be anything, it sounds like.”

  “He said he got a half a million for one of Michael Jackson’s doctors. And that was just for a tabloid story. We might get a movie!”

  I was on the verge of losing it with her. Lorna had a stress-release squeeze toy on the desk. It was a small judge’s gavel, a sample of a giveaway she was considering for marketing and promotional purposes. The name and number of the firm could be printed on the side. I grabbed it and squeezed hard on the barrel, thinking of it as Herb Dahl’s windpipe. After a few moments the anger eased. The thing actually worked. I made a mental note to tell Lorna to go ahead with the purchase. We’d give them out at bail bond offices and street fairs.

  “Okay,” I said. “We’ll talk about this later. We’re going to go back out there now. You are still going to send Herb home because we are going to talk about your case and we do not do that in front of people who are not in the circle of privilege. Later, you are going to call him and tell him he is not to make any deal or move without my approval. Do you understand, Lisa?”

  “Yes.”

  She sounded chastised and meek.

  “Do you want me to tell him to leave or do you want to handle it?”

  “Can you handle it, Mickey?”

  “No problem. I think we’re done here.”

  We stepped back into the living room and caught Dahl as he was finishing a story.

  “… and that was before he made Titanic!”

  He laughed at the kicker but the others in the room failed to show the same sense of Hollywood humor.

  “Okay, Herb, we’re going to get back to work on the case and we need to talk with Lisa,” I said. “I’m going to walk you out now.”

  “But how will she get home?”

  “I have a driver. We can handle that.”

  He hesitated and looked to Lisa to save him.

  “It’s okay, Herb,” she said. “We need to talk about the case. I’ll call you as soon as I get home.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “Mick, I can walk him out,” Lorna offered.

  “No, that’s okay. I have to go to the car anyway.”

  Everyone said goodbye to the man with the peace sign, and Dahl and I left the condo. Each unit in the building had an exterior exit. We walked down a pathway to the front gate on Kings Road. I saw a delivery of phone books underneath the mailbox and used one stack to prop the gate open so I could get back in.

  We walked out to my car, which was parked against a red curb in front. Rojas was leaning on the front fender, smoking a cigarette. I had left my remote in the cup holder, so I called to him.

  “Rojas, the trunk.”

  He pulled his keys and popped the rear lid. I told Dahl there was something I wanted to give him and he followed me over.

  “You’re not going to stuff me in there, are you?”

  “Not quite, Herb. I just want to give you something.”

  We went behind the car and I pushed the trunk all the way open.

  “Jeez, you got it all set up back here,” he said when he saw the file boxes.

  I didn’t respond. I grabbed the contracts file and pulled out the agreements Lisa had signed the day before. I moved around the car and copied it on the multipurpose machine on the front seat. I handed the copies to Dahl and kept the originals.

  “There, read that stuff when you have a few minutes.”

  “What is it?”

  “It is my representation contract with Lisa. Standard boilerplate. There’s also a power of attorney and a lien on any and all income derived from her case. You’ll notice that she signed and dated them all yesterday. That means they supersede your contract, Herb. Check the small print. It gives me control of all story rights—books, movies, TV, everything.”

  I saw his eyes harden.

  “Wait just a—”

  “No, Herb, you wait a minute. I know you just shelled out two hundred big ones on the bond, plus whatever you paid to get to her in the jail. I get it, you’ve got a huge investment riding on this. I’ll see that you get it back. Eventually. But you’re in second position here, buddy. Accept it and step the fuck back. You make no moves or deals without talking to me first.”

  I tapped the contract he was staring at.

  “You don’t listen to me and you’re going to need a lawyer. A good one. I’ll tie you up for two years and you won’t ever see a dime of that two hundred back.”

  I slammed the car door to punctuate the point.

  “Have a nice day.”

  I left him there and went to the trunk to return the originals to the file. When I closed the lid I noticed that I could still see the shadow of the graffiti. The spray paint had been removed but it had permanently marred the gloss of the car’s finish. The Florencia 13 still had its mark on me. I looked down at the license plate on the bumper.

  IWALKEM

  That was going to be easier said than done this time. I passed by Dahl, who was still standing on the sidewalk looking at the contracts. Back at the condo gate, I picked a phone book off the stack that was propping it open. I thumbed the corner back on a random page. My ad was there. My smiling face on the corner.

  SAVE Y
OUR HOME!

  DON’T LET THEM FORECLOSE WITHOUT A FIGHT

  Michael Haller & Associates, Attorneys-at-Law

  CALL:

  323-988-0761

  OR VISIT:

  www.stopfinancialruin.com

  Se Habla Español

  I checked a few other pages to make sure the ad was on every page, which I had paid for, and then dropped the book back onto the stack. I wasn’t even sure who still used phone books, but my message was there just in case.

  The others were waiting silently for me when I got back to the condo. Lisa’s arrival with her benefactor had put an awkward spin on things. I tried to get the meeting restarted in a way that would promote team unity.

  “Okay, so everybody’s met everybody. Lisa, we were in the middle of discussions about how we are going to proceed and what we need to know as we go forward. We didn’t have the advantage of having you here because, frankly, I was pretty sure you weren’t going to be getting out of jail until we got the not-guilty verdict at the end. But now you’re here and I certainly want to include you in our strategies. Do you have anything you want to say to the group?”

  I felt like I was leading a group therapy session at The Oaks. But Lisa lit up at the chance to hold the floor.

  .“Yes, I first wanted to say that I am very grateful for all of your efforts on my behalf. I know that in the law things like guilt and innocence don’t really matter. It’s what you can prove. I understand that but I thought it might be good for you to hear it, even if it is only this one time. I am innocent of these charges. I did not kill Mr. Bondurant. I hope that you believe me and that at trial we prove it. I have a little boy and he badly needs to be with his mother.”

  No one spoke but everybody nodded somberly.

  “Okay,” I said, “before your arrival we were going through the division of labor. Who is in charge of what, who needs to do what, that sort of thing. I’d like to include you in the assignments as well.”

  “Whatever I can do.”

  She was sitting bolt upright on the edge of her chair.

  “The police spent several hours in your house after your arrest. They searched it top to bottom and, subject to the authority the search warrant gave them, they took several items that might be evidence in the case. We have a list, which you are welcome to look at. Included are your laptop and three files marked FLAG and FORECLOSURE ONE and TWO. This is where you come in. The minute we are assigned a courtroom and a judge, we will file a motion asking to be immediately allowed to examine the laptop and the files, but until then I need you to list as best you can what was in the files and on the computer. In other words, Lisa, what is in these documents that would make the cops seize them? Do you understand?”

  “Of course, and yes, I can do this. I’ll start on it tonight.”

  “Thank you. There is one other thing I want to ask you about. You see, if this thing goes to trial, then I don’t want any loose ends. I don’t want anybody showing up out of the woodwork or—”

  “Why do you say if?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You said if. If this thing goes to trial. There are no ifs.”

  “Sorry. Slip of the tongue. But just so you know, a good attorney will always listen to an offer from the prosecution. Because many times these negotiations allow you a sneak peek into the state’s case. So if I tell you that I am talking to the prosecution about a deal, remember that I have an ulterior motive, okay?”

  “Okay, but I am telling you now, I won’t plead guilty to anything I haven’t done. There’s a killer out there walking free while they try to do this to me. Last night I couldn’t sleep in that terrible place. I kept thinking about my son… I could never face him if I pleaded guilty to something I’m not guilty of.”

  I thought she was about to turn on the faucet but she held back.

  “I understand,” I said softly. “Now, Lisa, this other thing I want to talk about is your husband.”

  “Why?”

  I immediately saw the warning flags go up. We were crossing into difficult terrain.

  “He’s a loose end. When was the last time you heard from him? Is he going to show up and cause us a problem? Could he testify about you, about any prior acts of retribution or revenge? We need to know what is out there, Lisa. Whether it ever materializes doesn’t matter. If there is a threat, I need to know about it.”

  “I thought a spouse could not testify against a partner.”

  “There is a privilege that you get to invoke but it can be a gray area, especially with you two no longer living together. So I want to tie up the loose end. Do you have any idea where your husband is at this time?”

  I wasn’t being fully accurate on the law but I needed to get to the husband to further understand the dynamic of their marriage and how it might or might not play into the defense. Estranged spouses were wild cards. You might be able to prevent them from testifying against your client but that didn’t mean you could keep them from cooperating with the state outside the courtroom.

  “No, none,” she answered. “But I assume he will show up sooner or later.”

  “Why?”

  Lisa turned her palms up as if to show the answer was easy.

  “There’s money to be made. If he is anywhere near a TV or a newspaper and he gets wind of what’s going on, he’ll show up. You can count on it.”

  It seemed like an odd answer, as though there was a history of her husband being a money grubber, when I knew that wherever he was, he was spending very little of it.

  “You told me he maxed out your credit card in Mexico.”

  “That’s right. Rosarito Beach. He put forty-four hundred on the Visa and exceeded the limit. I had to cancel it and that was the only card we had left. But I didn’t realize that by canceling it I would lose the ability to track him. So the answer is, I don’t know where he is now.”

  Cisco cleared his throat and entered the interview.

  “What about contact? Any phone calls, e-mails, texts?”

  “There were a few e-mails at first. Then nothing until he called on our son’s birthday. That was six weeks ago.”

  “Did your son ask him where he was?”

  Lisa hesitated and then said no. She wasn’t a good liar. I could tell there was something more there.

  “What is it, Lisa?” I asked.

  She paused and then relented.

  “You’ll all think I’m a terrible mother but I didn’t let him talk to Tyler. We got into an argument and I just… hung up on him. Later I felt bad but I couldn’t call back because the number had been blocked.”

  “But he does have a cell phone?” I asked.

  “No. He did but that number’s been out of service for a while. He didn’t call on his phone. He either borrowed a phone or got a new number, which he hasn’t given me.”

  “Could’ve been a throwaway,” Cisco said. “They sell them in every convenience store.”

  I nodded. The story of marital disintegration left everyone somber. Finally, I spoke up.

  “Lisa, if he makes new contact, you let me know right away.”

  “I will.”

  I looked from her to my investigator. We locked eyes and in the silent transmission I told him to check out everything he could about Lisa’s wandering husband. I didn’t want him popping up in the middle of trial.

  Cisco gave me the nod. He was on it.

  “A couple other things, Lisa, and we’ll have enough to get started.”

  “Okay.”

  “When the police searched your house yesterday they took some other things we haven’t talked about. One was described as a journal. Do you know what this was?”

  “Yes, I was writing a book. A book about my journey.”

  “Your journey?”

  “Yes, the journey to finding myself in this cause. The movement. Helping people fight to save their homes.”

  “Okay, so it was like a diary of the protests and things like that?”

  “That’s right.”r />
  “Do you remember if you ever put Mitchell Bondurant’s name in the journal?”

  She looked down as she searched her memory.

  “I don’t think so. But I may have mentioned him. You know, said that he was the man behind everything.”

  “Nothing about hurting him?”

  “No, nothing like that. And I didn’t hurt him! I didn’t do this!”

  “I’m not asking you that, Lisa. I am trying to figure out what evidence they have against you. So you’re saying that this journal is not going to be a problem for us, correct?”

  “That’s right. It will be no problem. There’s nothing bad in there.”

  “Okay, good.”

  I looked at the other members of my staff. The verbal sparring with Lisa had made me forget the next question. Cisco prompted me.

  “The witness?”

  “Right. Lisa, yesterday morning at the time of the murder, were you anywhere near the WestLand National building in Sherman Oaks?”

  She didn’t answer right away, which told me we had a problem.

  “Lisa?”

  “My son goes to school in Sherman Oaks. I take him in the mornings and I drive right by that building.”

  “That’s okay. So you drove by yesterday. What time would that have been?”

  “Um, about seven forty-five.”

  “That was taking him to school, right?”

  “Right.”

  “What about after you drop him off? Do you go back the same way?”

  “Yes, most days.”

  “What about yesterday? We’re talking about yesterday. Did you drive back by?”

  “I think so, yes.”

  “You don’t remember?”

  “No, I did. I take Ventura to Van Nuys and then up to the freeway.”

  “So did you go back by after dropping off Tyler or did you do something else?”

  “I stopped to get coffee and then I went home. I drove by then.”

  “What time?”

  “I’m not sure. I wasn’t watching the clock. I think it was around eight thirty.”

  “Did you ever get out of your car in the vicinity of WestLand National?”