“And this clinical trial, was it to test a drug therapy?”
“Yes.”
“Using what drug?”
“It was an isotope, actually. I believe it is called lutetium one-seventy-seven.”
“You were being treated with this isotope while you worked on this case?”
“Yes. It was just one morning a week for twelve weeks.”
“And what are the possible side effects associated with lutetium one-seventy-seven?”
“Uh, well, there’s nausea, tinnitus, exhaustion. There’s a whole list, but other than those I just mentioned, I didn’t really have any side effects.”
“What about confusion and memory loss?”
“Uh, I think those were on the list but I haven’t experienced them.”
“Have you experienced any cognitive impairment while working on this case?”
Haller stood, arms out in an imploring gesture.
“Your Honor... really?”
The judge pointed to his empty chair.
“Your objection has been overruled,” she said. “Sit down,
Mr. Haller.”
Haller slowly sat down.
“Do you need me to repeat the question?” McPherson asked.
“No,” Bosch said. “I can remember, thank you. The answer is no, I have not experienced any cognitive impairment.”
“Have you asked a doctor about it or taken a cognitive test in the past six months?”
“No, I have not.”
McPherson looked down at a document she had carried with her to the lectern.
“Earlier this year, did you report a break-in at your home?” she asked.
“Uh, yes, I did,” Bosch said.
“And was this while you were being treated with the isotope lutetium one-seventy-seven?”
“Yes.”
McPherson asked the judge to allow her to approach the witness with a document she called State’s exhibit one. First McPherson dropped off copies to Haller and the judge. Bosch watched Haller read it and noticed alarm come into his eyes. He stood and objected, stating the document had not been submitted to him through discovery.
“Offered as impeachment, Your Honor,” McPherson said. “The witness just testified to having no cognitive issues.”
“Yes, I’ll allow it,” Coelho said.
Bosch braced himself as McPherson came to him with a copy of the document, and then returned to the lectern.
“Mr. Bosch, is that the police report from the alleged break-in at your home on Woodrow Wilson Drive?” she asked.
“Uh, looks like it,” Bosch said. “That’s my address. But I have not seen this before.”
“Well, you were a police officer. Does it look official to you?”
“Yes.”
“Then could you read the paragraph in the responding officer’s summary that I have highlighted in yellow?”
“Uh, yes. It says, ‘Upon questioning, victim seemed confused... and unsure if a break-in had occurred. Victim is ill and being treated. Possible... dementia. Walk-through of residence conducted. No evidence of burglary. No further follow-up is required.’”
Bosch felt his neck and back start to burn. He was stunned by what the responding officer had written.
“I wasn’t confused,” he said. “Because nothing was taken, I wasn’t sure there had been a break-in. That’s all. And dementia was his word, not—”
“Your Honor, move to strike the witness’s last comment as nonresponsive,” McPherson said.
“So moved,” Coelho said. “Do you have any other questions, Ms. McPherson?”
“No, Your Honor.”
She moved from the lectern and sat down next to Morris.
A silence engulfed the courtroom and Bosch noticed that no one was looking at him, not even Haller. It was like everyone was embarrassed for him. He wanted to shout, I have not lost my mind! but he knew that would support Maggie McFierce’s implication.
“Mr. Haller,” the judge finally said. “Redirect?”
Haller stood and slowly moved to the lectern.
“Thank you, Judge,” he said. “Mr. Bosch, during the course of this investigation, how many times have you gone out to the state prison in Chino to visit our client, Lucinda Sanz?”
Bosch looked up from the police report that was still in front of him.
“Four times,” he said. “Once with you, three times by myself.”
“That’s about an hour out, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Do you use one of the GPS apps to find your way out there?”
“Uh, no. I know where it is.”
“So you’ve never gotten lost or taken the freeway too far and gone past your exit?”
“No.”
“You drive me often while we are working, correct?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you use a GPS app — why is that?”
“I don’t use them. I know where I’m going.”
“Thank you. I have nothing further.”
Part Ten
The Grand Master of Smoke
40
I asked for the morning break as soon as Bosch was excused from the witness stand. The judge gave us fifteen minutes. Maggie McFierce grabbed her thin leather briefcase and was out of the courtroom and gone before I could get to her. It didn’t matter, because I was more concerned about Bosch. I met him at the railing.
“Don’t say anything here,” I said. “Let’s go out and grab a conference room.”
We exited the courtroom. The hall was empty. No sign of Maggie. We walked to an attorney meeting room that was one courtroom down, a small space with a table and chairs and four windowless walls. I felt claustrophobic as soon as we walked in.
“Sit down,” I said. “Harry, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but let it go. The cop who wrote that report was full of shit and so are Maggie and Morris. Fuck them.”
“How did she know about UCLA?” Bosch said. “That could not possibly be discovery stuff. She—”
“I’m sorry, man. That’s on me. Last time we had dinner together with Hayley, I mentioned that you were working for me and that I’d gotten you into that trial. It was before she even took the job with the AG. I can’t believe she used it. I’m sorry, Harry.”
Bosch shook his head.
“Well,” he said. “How bad does it hurt us?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I think the judge could see that you don’t have any kind of problem. The whole thing is bullshit. And what it shows is that their so-called geofencing expert had to resort to character assassination because she could find nothing wrong with your direct testimony about geofencing. That’s not going to be lost on the judge.”
I took out my phone, turned it on, and waited for it to boot up.
“It’s always been the defense lawyers who pulled that kill-the-messenger sort of shit,” Bosch said. “Not the DA, not the AG.”
“It was low,” I said. “And I’m going to make sure she knows it.”
“Don’t bother. It’s over. Have we heard anything from Applied Forensics?”
“Shami’s over there. Last I heard they’re still working on it.”
I opened up a text to Maggie and started typing.
Now I know why you didn’t invite Hayley to watch us in court. That was low, Mags. How could you do that?
I reread what I had typed and then sent it. I checked my watch. We needed to get back into the courtroom in five minutes.
“Okay, are you good?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” Bosch said. “But I don’t think my saying I don’t get lost while driving is going to be enough to fix the damage.”
“It’s the best I could come up with on the spot. But it’s not just about that. You testified thoroughly and professionally last week. You were in complete command of the cell-tower data and the judge saw and heard that. She won’t make any decision based on what just happened. I think we’re fine. What I need now is for you to go find Frank Silver and bring him in. We’re going to need him to testify if and when we get the results from Shami.”