“What made you think he was innocent?”
“I didn’t. I thought that his case might be worth another look. I interviewed him and he said that he could account for the twenty-five thousand and give information he picked up in prison that would impeach the contract killer. I’ll spare you the full history on it, but I determined that Coldwell was guilty and we dropped it.”
“No, please, don’t spare us the details. What made him guilty — in your eyes?”
“He told me he had given the money to a mistress and that he couldn’t bring that up at his trial because he was still married then and his wife’s money was paying his trial lawyer. If they’d brought forth the mistress, Coldwell’s wife would have cut him off financially. As it turned out, his wife divorced him a couple years after he was convicted, so now he was ready to use the mistress. He also told me that an inmate who had been transferred from the prison where the hit man ended up — Soledad — said the hit man was bragging up there about setting up Coldwell for the murder.”
“Okay, let’s stop there. I think we need to move to the case at hand.”
Haller stood up and objected.
“Your Honor, she opened this door,” he said. “And now all of a sudden she wants to slam it closed because she knows that finishing the story might show that the witness has integrity, and that doesn’t fit with the State’s plan to attack his credibility.”
The judge didn’t hesitate in sustaining the objection.
“Counsel is right,” Coelho said. “This door was flung open by the State. I’d like to hear the end of the story. The witness will continue his answer if he has more to say.”
Haller nodded toward Bosch, thanked the judge, and sat down.
“I called the Department of Corrections,” Bosch said. “With the help of an intel officer at Soledad, I was able to determine that the hit man and the transferred inmate Coldwell mentioned had never been in the same cell block and would not have crossed paths while they were both housed there. So that knocked that part of his story out. Then I talked to the mistress and she wasn’t a good liar. Took me about twenty minutes to break her story. She admitted that Coldwell hadn’t given her twenty-five thousand dollars, that she had lied about it because he’d promised her money when he got out and sued the State for wrongful conviction and imprisonment. So that was it. We dropped the case — Mickey and I.”
“So, Mr. Bosch,” McPherson said, “what you want the court to know is that you call them like you see them.”
“I don’t know if that was a question, but yes, I call them like I see them.”
“Okay, well, then, let’s talk about the Sanz case and how you saw it. Okay, Mr. Bosch?”
“It’s what I’m here for.”
“Do you know what geofencing is, Mr. Bosch?”
“Yes, it’s kind of a fancy word for tracking the locations of cell phones through cellular data.”
“It has become a useful tool for law enforcement, hasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“In your direct testimony you said you have worked on hundreds of homicide cases, correct?”
“Yes, correct.”
“In how many of those cases did you use geofencing?”
“None. It was a technology that really didn’t come out until after I retired.”
“Okay, then how many times have you used it as a private investigator?”
“None.”
“What about as a nondefense investigator working for Mr. Haller?”
“This case was the first time.”
“One case. Would you say that makes you an expert on geofencing?”
“An expert? I don’t know what would make one an expert. I know how to read and map the data, if that’s what you mean.”
“How did you learn to read and map the data?”
“I had some help from Mr. Haller, who was familiar with geofencing from prior cases. But I learned the most when I studied the FBI’s internal field resource guide for agents in this area of investigation. It was put together by the Bureau’s Cellular Analysis Survey Team and is basically a how-to-do-it for agents. It’s very detailed — over a hundred pages — and I read it twice before I started work on the data we received in this case.”
McPherson had not expected an answer that complete and quickly went to sarcasm to cover her error in asking the question.
“Simple as that,” she said. “Take an online course and you’re an expert.”
“It’s not up to me to say whether I’m an expert,” Bosch said. “But it was the FBI’s online course, if you want to call it that. It was designed so that any agent could trace and map the movement of cellular devices. If you’re suggesting that I did it wrong or got it wrong, I would disagree. I think I got it right and it raises a lot of questions about Lucinda Sanz’s culp—”
“Move to strike the witness’s answer as nonresponsive.”
McPherson looked up at the bench, but before the judge could respond, Haller stood.
“Nonresponsive?” he said. “He didn’t get the chance to finish his response.”
The judge wasn’t interested in parrying with the lawyers.
“Let’s just move on to the next question,” Coelho said. “Continue, Ms. McPherson.”
Haller sat down. Bosch looked over at him for the first time during the cross. Haller nodded and did a small fist shake with his hand close to his chest. Bosch took it as a not-so-secret Stay strong gesture.
“Mr. Bosch,” McPherson said, pulling Bosch’s attention back. “Are you ill?”
Haller jumped up from his seat.
“Your Honor, what is this?” he said indignantly. “Counsel has no business asking about the witness’s health. What does it have to do with any question before this court?”
The judge cast a stern eye on McPherson.
“Ms. McPherson, what are you doing here?” she asked.
“Your Honor,” McPherson said, “if the court will indulge me, it will become quite clear what I’m doing, and Mr. Haller is well aware of what I’m doing. The witness’s health is an issue if it affects his work.”
“You may proceed,” the judge said. “Cautiously.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” McPherson said. Focusing again on the witness stand, she asked, “Mr. Bosch, are you presently being treated for a medical condition?”
“No,” Bosch said.
McPherson looked surprised but quickly covered it.
“Then have you recently been treated for a medical condition?” she asked.
Bosch hesitated as he thought about how to phrase his answer.
“I was being treated earlier this year,” he finally said.
“Treated for what?” McPherson said.
Haller, apparently sensing where this could go, stood again to object.
“Your Honor, last week my asking a witness for her cell number had Mr. Morris jumping out of his shoes,” he said. “But now it’s okay to drag a witness’s personal medical history into the case? Aren’t there limits to invasion of privacy in this court?”
“Mr. Haller makes a good point, Ms. McPherson,” Coelho said.
“Your Honor, the witness’s medical status is important to this case, and I can demonstrate why if I am allowed to continue,” McPherson said. “Mr. Haller knows this and that is why he is jumping out of his shoes.”
“Make it fast, Ms. McPherson,” the judge said. “My patience is wearing thin.”
Haller sat down and the judge told Bosch he must answer the question.
“I was being treated for cancer,” Bosch said. “I was part of a clinical trial that ended almost six months ago.”
“And was the treatment successful?” McPherson asked.
“The doctors seemed to think so. They said I’m in partial remission.”