The Reversal

“Well, I’ve been in a few courtrooms but I don’t know enough to know what it all means,” said Gleason.

“It means the end is near,” Maggie said.

“It means the entire defense imploded,” I added. “See, the defense’s case was sort of simple. Stepfather killed the girl and the family concocted a cover-up. They came up with the story about hide-and-seek and the man on the lawn to throw the authorities off of stepdad. Then sister-that’s you-made a false identification of Jessup. Just sort of randomly set him up for a murder he did not commit.”

“But what about Melissa’s hair in the tow truck?” Gleason asked.

“The defense claims it was planted,” I said. “Either in conspiracy or independent of the family’s cover-up. The police realized they didn’t have much of a case. They had a thirteen-year-old girl’s ID of a suspect and almost nothing else. So they took hair from the body or a hairbrush and planted it in the tow truck. After lunch-if Royce is foolish enough to continue this-he will present investigative chronology reports and time logs that will show Detective Kloster had enough access and time to make the plant in the tow truck before a search warrant was obtained and forensics opened the truck.”

“But that’s crazy,” Gleason said.

“Maybe so,” Maggie said, “but that was their case and Eddie Roman was the linchpin because he was supposed to testify that you told him your stepfather did it. He was supposed to plant the seed of doubt. That’s all it takes, Sarah. One little doubt. Only he took one look at who was in the audience-namely Sonia Reyes-and thought he was in trouble. You see Eddie did the same thing with Sonia as he did with you. Met her, got close and turned her out to keep him in meth. When he saw her in court, he knew he was in trouble. Because he knew if Sonia got on the stand and told the same story about him as you did, then the jury would know what he was-a liar and predator-and wouldn’t trust a single thing he said. He also had no idea what Sonia might have told us about crimes they committed together. So he decided up there that his best out was the truth. To screw the defense and make the prosecution happy. He changed his story.”

Gleason nodded as she began to understand.

“Do you think Mr. Royce really told him what to say and was going to pay him off for his lies?”

“Of course,” Maggie said.

“I don’t know,” I said quickly. “I’ve known Clive a long time. I don’t think that’s how he operates.”

“What?” Maggie said. “You think Eddie Roman just made it all up on his own?”

“No, but he spoke to the investigator before he ever got to Clive.”

“Plausible denial. You’re just being charitable, Haller. They don’t call him Clever Clive for no reason.”

Sarah seemed to sense that she had pushed us into a zone of contention that had existed long before this trial. She tried to move us on.

“Do you really think it’s over?” she asked.

I thought for a moment about it and then nodded.

“I think if I was Clever Clive I’d be thinking of what’s best for my client and that would be not to let this go to a verdict. I’d start thinking about a deal. Maybe he’ll even call during lunch.”

I pulled my phone out and put it down on the table, as if being ready for Royce’s call would make it happen. Just as I did so, Bosch showed up and took the seat next to Maggie. I grabbed my water glass and raised it to him.

“Cheers, Harry. Smooth move today. I think Jessup’s house of cards is falling down.”

Bosch raised a water glass and clinked it off mine.

“Royce was right, you know,” he said. “It was a gangster move. Saw it in one of the Godfather movies way back.”

He then held his water glass up to the two women.

“Anyway, cheers,” he said. “You two are the real stars. Great work yesterday and today.”

We all clinked glasses but Sarah hesitated.

“What’s wrong, Sarah?” I asked. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of clinking glass.”

I smiled, proud of my own humor.

“It’s nothing,” she said. “I think it’s supposed to be bad luck to toast with water.”

“Well,” I said, quickly recovering, “it’s going to take more than bad luck to change things now.”

Bosch switched subjects.

“What happens next?” he asked.

“I was just telling Sarah that I don’t think this will go to a jury. Clive has to be thinking disposition. They really don’t have any other choice.”

Bosch turned serious.

“I know there’s money on the line and your boss probably thinks that’s the priority,” he said, “but this guy has got to go back to prison.”

“Absolutely,” Maggie said.

“Of course,” I added. “And after what happened this morning, we have all the leverage. Jessup has to take what we offer or we-”

My phone started to buzz. The ID screen said UNKNOWN.

“Speak of the devil,” Maggie said.

I looked at Sarah.

“You might be on that plane home tonight after all.”

I opened the phone and said my name.

“Mickey, District Attorney Williams here. How are you?”

I shook my head at the others. It wasn’t Royce.

“I’m doing fine, Gabe. How are you?”

My informality didn’t seem to faze him.

“I’m hearing good things out of court this morning.”