“That ship has sailed, Frank. You don’t have to worry. That’s not why you’re a witness. If this pans out with Applied Forensics, I’m going to need you to get on the stand and set it up. Tell how the evidence got there and why it’s still there five years later. It’ll be your moment to be the hero.”
“I like that. But then I get paid.”
“Listen, there may be some CJA money when this is all said and done, but you don’t get paid until we all get paid.”
“‘CJA’? What’s that?”
“It’s federal money for defense lawyers — the Criminal Justice Act. It won’t be a lot but it will be something, and whatever we get, you’ll get it all. I’m about to talk to Judge Coelho and I’ll bring it up. Now put Harry back on the phone.”
“Okay, Mick. By the way, I like Harry. But I don’t like that big guy you got.”
“You’re not supposed to. Put Harry on.”
I stood up and paced in the hall while I waited. I was trying to contain my excitement over what this could mean. Bosch’s voice came back on the call.
“Mick?”
“Yeah. They taking your credit card?”
“Yeah, I gave it to them.”
“Okay, what’s Shami doing?”
“She’s on a tour of the lab now. They love her. I guess she’s sort of famous in her field.”
“That she is. When she’s finished with the tour, tell her to prep them for a court order directing them to test the evidence for DNA and then compare it to a sample that should be coming in by the end of the day.”
“Will do. And we want a rush on it, right?”
“We will pay for expedited testing. Need this back by Monday.”
“Okay. What about you?”
“I’m about to go see the judge to try to get this rolling.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Thanks, I’ll need it.”
I disconnected and headed to the courtroom door.
36
The lights in the courtroom were out except for the bulb positioned above the clerk’s corral to the right of the judge’s bench. Coelho’s clerk was a young man fresh from USC Law named Gian Brown. He was more than used to me coming in over the past six months to drop off motions and subpoena requests for the judge. Brown told me each time that this task would be much easier on me if I just emailed the documents and requests, but I never did that. I wanted him to know me, to get used to me. I wanted him to like me. I learned he enjoyed a caramel macchiato on occasion and brought them to him from the building’s cafeteria, even though each time he protested that the gesture would earn me no favors with him or the judge. I always said that I wasn’t trying to procure favors because I didn’t need any.
But now I did.
“Mr. Haller, you do know that we’re dark today, right?” Brown asked.
“Must’ve forgotten,” I said.
He smiled and I smiled.
“Then, let me guess, you have a motion for us,” Brown said.
“I have an ask,” I said. “A big ask. I need to see the judge about an SDT that is very time-sensitive. Is she here?”
“Uh, she is,” Brown said. “But she’s got her Do Not Disturb on.”
He pointed to a small red light on a panel on the corral’s half wall. Next to it was the button he pushed when all parties were present and ready for the judge to enter the courtroom.
“Well, Gian, I need you to call her or buzz her because she’ll want to hear what I’ve got to say,” I said.
“Um...”
“Please, Gian. It’s important to the case. It’s important that it be brought to her attention as soon as possible. In fact, I think she will be upset with you if she learns there was a delay because of a little red light.”
“Okay, well, let me just go back and see if her door is open.”
“Do that. Thank you. If it’s closed, knock on it.”
“We’ll see. Just stay here and I’ll be back.”
He got up and went through the door at the rear of the corral into the hall that led to the judge’s chambers.
I waited three minutes and then the door finally opened. Brown came through without the judge. He was shaking his head.
“Her door is closed,” he said.
“Well, did you knock?” I asked.
“No. It’s clear she doesn’t want to be disturbed.”
Without a second thought, I stood on my toes and leaned over the half wall of the corral. I reached my hand toward the judge’s call button. My feet were in the air and I was balanced on the six-inch-wide wall cap.
“Hey!” Brown exclaimed.
I pushed the button and held my finger on it until my weight pulled me back and my feet were on the floor.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Brown yelled.
“I need to see her, Gian,” I said. “It’s an emergency.”
“Doesn’t matter. You had no right to do that. You need to leave the courtroom now.”
I raised my hands and started backing away from the corral.
“I’m going to be in the hall,” I said. “I’ll be there all day or until she—”
I heard buzzing from the corral. Brown walked to his desk and picked up the phone.
“Yes, Judge,” he said.
As he listened, I started returning to the corral.
“It’s Mr. Haller,” Brown said. “He pushed the button because I wouldn’t disturb you.”
I got to the corral and leaned over the half wall.
“Judge, I need to see you,” I said loudly.
Brown put his hand over the phone and turned his back to me. “He said it’s an SDT and there’s a time issue,” he said. “Yes, that was him. He’s still here.”
Brown listened for a few seconds and then hung up. He spoke with his back still to me.
“She said she’d see you,” he said. “You can go in.”
“Thank you, Gian,” I said. “I owe you a macchiato.”
“Don’t bother.”
“Extra caramel.”
I went through the corral to the hall. Judge Coelho was standing in the open door to her chambers. Instead of a black robe, she wore blue jeans and a button-down corduroy shirt.
“This better be good, Mr. Haller,” she said.
She turned and led the way into her chambers.
“Please excuse my casual dress,” she said as she walked behind her desk. “Because of the continuance we are dark all day, and my plan was to catch up on my writing.”
I knew that meant she was writing decisions and court orders. She took the seat behind her desk and pointed to one of the chairs across from her.
“Subpoena duces tecum,” she said. “You are up to something you don’t want Mr. Morris to know about. Yet.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” I said.
“Sit down, please. Talk to me.”
“Thank you. Time is of the essence, Judge. We learned this morning that evidence from the original case was not disposed of after it was adjudicated five years ago. Lucinda Sanz’s original attorney had received a split of evidence for independent testing — one of the gunshot-residue pads allegedly wiped over Sanz’s hands and clothing.”
“And you’re saying it’s still available?”
“It’s at the independent lab that her attorney Frank Silver took it to. Applied Forensics in Van Nuys. We also learned that they did not use all of the material when they conducted a gunshot-residue test back then. They are still holding a piece of a GSR pad that was untested.”
“And just what do you want to do with it?”
“Judge, I need a subpoena from you for a DNA swab from my client in the federal detention center. Then I need you to issue a sealed order directing Applied Forensics to compare her DNA to that of the untested evidence held at the lab there.”
She stared at me for a long moment, trying to connect the dots.