Resurrection Walk

Bosch disconnected and walked north on Grand, turned right on First, and headed to the Civic Center. He was thankful it was downhill most of the way. By the time he got back to the federal courthouse, the entire Spring Street side of the building was cordoned off with crime scene tape, and the area was overrun with officers from the LAPD, the sheriff’s department, and the U.S. Marshals Service.

Bosch walked up to an LAPD officer standing at the yellow tape. His name tag said FRENCH.

“The courthouse is closed, sir,” French said.

“I’m a witness,” Bosch said. “Who do I talk to?”

“A witness to what?”

“To the deputy getting shot. I followed the shooter but lost him.”

The officer suddenly looked alert.

“All right, you need to stay here.”

“Fine.”

Officer French took a step back and started talking into his radio.

As Bosch waited, he saw a van from Channel 5 pull to the curb. A woman with perfectly coiffed hair jumped out of the passenger side with a microphone already in her hand.

Part Fourteen El Capitan

48

Late Friday morning I was summoned to Judge Coelho’s courtroom. It had been three days since she had adjourned the habeas hearing in the wake of Stephanie Sanger’s murder. I had spent most of that time watching and reading news reports on the killing, waiting for the media to connect the dots. Finally, there was a story this morning in the Times by their veteran crime reporter James Queally that delved deeply into Sanger’s background and activities, and most likely that had prompted the summons from the judge.

Queally reported that Sanger was a member of a sheriff’s clique called Los Cucos and that investigators of her murder had found connections between her and a Mexican cartel that had compromised her and forced her to do its bidding, which may have included a series of contract killings of cartel rivals in California. The story also detailed the Roberto Sanz case from his murder to his ex-wife’s current bid to be exonerated. The Times report was the first to reveal that Sanger had been testifying in that habeas case just minutes before she was killed outside the courthouse.

Unnamed sources told the newspaper that the working theory of the investigation was that Sanger had been killed to prevent her from testifying further and being pushed to cooperate with authorities.

I had talked to Queally off the record, telling him both what I knew as fact and what I believed. Without naming Agent MacIsaac, I reported what MacIsaac had told me at my house earlier in the week: that on the day of his murder, Roberto Sanz had informed the FBI agent that Sanger and other deputies in the Cucos were controlled by members of the Sinaloa cartel operating in Los Angeles. I also told Queally my own working theory, based on the fact that she had followed Roberto Sanz and had seen him with the FBI, that Sanger had killed him. The reporter had taken it from there, confirming the facts and ferreting out new ones, and the story was on the front page above the fold of the print edition and was the lead in the newspaper’s digital edition.

When I got to Coelho’s courtroom, Morris was already there waiting. He did not acknowledge me. He sat stone silent at the State’s table, not even responding when I casually said hello to him as well as to the court’s clerk and the stenographer, Milly.

Gian Brown called the judge in chambers to say all parties were present and she told him to send us back to her along with the stenographer. We went silently. Morris looked like he’d experienced a couple of sleepless nights.

The judge’s robe was on a hanger on the back of the door to her chambers. She was dressed in black pants and a white blouse.

“Gentlemen, thank you for coming,” she said. “Let Milly get set up and then I’d like to go on the record in the Sanz matter.”

“Should Lucinda be here?” I asked.

“I don’t think it’s necessary for this meeting,” Coelho said. “But I did tell the marshals to bring her over from MDC for the afternoon session.”

That told me that the case wasn’t over — yet.

We sat silently as the stenographer moved into the corner behind the judge’s desk, sat on a padded stool already there, and poised her fingers over her steno machine.

“Okay, on the record again with Sanz versus the State of California,” Coelho said. “Mr. Haller, where are you with the presentation of your case?”

I’d known she would ask this question and was prepared for it.

“Your Honor, in light of what has transpired and the fact that I can’t continue with Sergeant Sanger as a witness, I’m prepared to rest my case and proceed with final arguments. If final arguments are even necessary.”

Coelho nodded, having expected that answer.

“Mr. Morris?” she said.

The prosecutor seemed to sense that the case was on the line. His tone was defensive from the start.

“The State is ready to proceed, Your Honor,” Morris said. “We have witnesses, including a witness who will testify that Lucinda Sanz confessed to her that she killed her husband.”