“What the fuck, man?” he said. “You said he’d pay me.”
“I never said that,” Cisco said. “I said if he likes what you say, he’ll take care of you. That’s it.”
“Fuck!” Moder said.
“Calm down,” I said. “You—”
“No, you calm the fuck down!” Moder yelled. “I need real money, man. I’m hurtin’, man!”
“The only witnesses I pay are expert witnesses,” I said. “And I don’t think you’re an expert in anything but getting high on crystal meth.”
“Then get the fuck out of here. All a’ you. Just get the fuck out. I ain’t fucking over my sister for a fucking business card. Get out!”
Bosch got up from the couch and started for the door. Cisco didn’t move. He was waiting for me so he could be the last man out in case Moder foolishly decided to get physical. I pulled out my wallet and retrieved a business card.
“You already fucked her over,” I said.
I tossed the card onto the coffee table and followed Bosch out the door.
The three of us didn’t speak until we got back to the street and stood around the Navigator.
“What do you think?” Cisco asked.
“It’d be nice if I had something solid to back up his story,” I said. “But I think I can make do if push comes to shove with the sister.”
“Subpoena him?” Bosch asked.
“No,” I said. “I don’t want the AG to know we found him. How did we find him?”
Bosch lifted his chin in Cisco’s direction.
“Cisco’s the man,” he said.
“I found out where she used to live in Glendale and asked around the neighborhood,” Cisco said. “People didn’t like her or her brother. It got easy from there.”
I nodded approvingly.
“So what is she inside for?” I asked.
“DUI manslaughter,” Cisco said. “Ran through a light in Sun Valley and T-boned a nurse coming home from work at St. Joseph’s. She blew a point-three. Got fifteen years for it. The nurse had a family.”
“What do you think, Harry?” I asked. “What could she get in exchange for snitching on Lucinda? I mean, going back to the sentencing judge is a nonstarter. No judge is going to chip time off the sentence on a case like that. That doesn’t win you any votes.”
“Don’t know,” Bosch said. “Maybe just a promise from the AG to try. She’s already been in eight years. She’ll start getting parole hearings in a year. Maybe Morris will put in the word there.”
“Yeah, gotta be it,” I said. “Good job, fellas. I’ve got something I can work with if need be.”
Neither investigator responded to the compliment.
“So, anybody hungry?” I said. “I’m starved. Musso’s is still open and I’m buying.”
“I could eat,” Cisco said.
“You can always eat,” I said. “Harry?”
“Sure,” he said.
“Okay, then,” I said. “I’ll call Sonny at the bar and see if he can get us a good table. Meet you both there.”
28
Eating late at Musso and Frank had been a mistake. I consumed no alcohol but couldn’t say no to a New York strip with all the trimmings. In the morning I felt heavy and sluggish. Luckily, Bosch was waiting on the front deck when I stumbled out. He drove while I pulled out the legal pad and got reacquainted with my case as we headed downtown.
“Who you calling first this morning?” Bosch asked.
“Well, first we see what comes up when Morris crosses Sanger,” I said. “I might need to take another go at her. I’m hoping she wears her uniform again today.”
“Why is that?”
“Oh, just a little groundwork I forgot to lay yesterday.”
“Okay, then who? Keith Mitchell?”
“Yeah, we’ll go with Mitchell. Get him on the record with his story, and then we bring in Shami. I need you to get her after you drop me at the courthouse. Just in case Sanger and Mitchell go down in a hurry.”
“You got it.”
My strategy was twofold. First and foremost, I had to show that the investigation of the case was off the rails from the beginning. There was either tunnel vision that led solely to Lucinda Sanz or, worse, a cover-up in which Lucinda was set up and sold down the river. The second part of the strategy was to somehow hand the judge a villain. I needed to point the finger at someone convincingly enough to show that Lucinda Sanz should be declared innocent or, at the very least, allowed to pull back her plea and go to trial. Exactly who that villain would be was yet to be determined, but thanks to Shami Arslanian’s computer modeling, I had an idea.
Bosch made good time. My eyes were on the paperwork and I didn’t notice the turns he made, but I got to the courthouse and through the two security screens early enough to ask Nate, the main courtroom marshal, to allow me back into the holding area so I could visit with my client.
Lucinda was in the same short-sleeved blue jumpsuit, but on this day she wore a heavy white long-sleeved T-shirt underneath. It didn’t matter what time of year it was — federal lockup was always a cold place to be.
“Cindi,” I said. “You doing all right?”
“I guess so,” she said. “When does court start?”
“They’ll get us in a few minutes. I just wanted to come back and tell you, so far so good. I think we’re right on track with how we want to present our case. Also, I don’t think you need to worry about Isabella Moder. We have that covered.”
“What do you mean, you have it covered?”
“If the AG puts her on the stand and she testifies about you, we should be able to show her to be the lying jailhouse snitch that she is.”
“Okay. Then what happens today?”
“Well, we put on our main case, and we hope it’s enough to force the judge to allow me to bring Agent MacIsaac in to testify. He’s the key, but we haven’t been able to get him into court. The feds are playing hide the ball with him.”
“Why won’t he come?”
“Well, because what the feds did is embarrassing to the Bureau. They looked the other way when you got charged, Cindi, and that wasn’t right.”
“And you can prove this?”
“I think so. If I can get him on the stand.”
The door behind me opened and Marshal Nate came in.
“Time to go,” he said.
I turned back to Lucinda and told her to stay strong.
A few minutes later we were seated at the table in the courtroom, and Judge Coelho took the bench. Sergeant Sanger was called back to the stand for cross-examination. I was pleased to see that she was once again in uniform.
Morris’s cross was pedantic. He painstakingly walked Sanger through her seventeen-year career with the sheriff’s department, detailing her different postings, promotions, and commendations. He went so far as to present as an exhibit the plaque she had received the year before from the Antelope Valley Rotary Club as Law Enforcement Officer of the Year. In doing so, Morris was revealing his strategy — the case would come down to the believability and character of the deputies involved. That’s why he was laying it on thick.
He finished strongly with questions that went to the heart of Lucinda Sanz’s claim of malfeasance in her conviction.
“Sergeant Sanger, are you aware of any sort of corruption or wrongdoing in the investigation of Roberto Sanz’s death?” he asked. “And I remind you that you are under oath.”
“No, sir,” Sanger responded.
The reminder that the witness was under oath was grandstanding, but Morris’s message to the judge was clear: This is a professional and highly decorated law enforcement officer and it is her word against that of the petitioner, who previously pleaded no contest to this crime.