“All right, Mr. Haller. I believe that if you vet the files as you have suggested, then you will be acting in an appropriate and acceptable manner. I would like you to file a motion with this court that explains your actions and the feeling of threat you are under. I will sign it and seal it and with any good luck it will be something that never sees the light of day.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
“Anything else?”
“I think that is it.”
“Then, have a good day.”
“Yes, Your Honor. Thank you.”
I got up and headed toward the door but then remembered something and turned back to stand in front of the judge’s desk.
“Judge? I forgot something. I saw your calendar from last week out there and noticed that Jerry Vincent came in on the Elliot matter. I haven’t thoroughly reviewed the case file yet, but do you mind my asking what the hearing was about?”
The judge had to think for a moment to recall the hearing.
“It was an emergency motion. Mr. Vincent came in because Judge Stanton had revoked bail and ordered Mr. Elliot remanded to custody. I stayed the revocation.”
“Why was it revoked?”
“Mr. Elliot had traveled to a film festival in New York without getting permission. It was one of the qualifiers of bail. When Mr. Golantz, the prosecutor, saw a picture of Elliot at the festival in People magazine, he asked Judge Stanton to revoke bail. He obviously wasn’t happy that bail had been allowed in the first place. Judge Stanton revoked and then Mr. Vincent came to me for an emergency stay of his client’s arrest and incarceration. I decided to give Mr. Elliot a second chance and to modify his freedom by making him wear an ankle monitor. But I can assure you that Mr. Elliot will not receive a third chance. Keep that in mind if you should retain him as a client.”
“I understand, Judge. Thank you.”
I nodded and left the chambers, thanking Mrs. Gill as I walked out through the courtroom.
Harry Bosch’s card was still in my pocket. I dug it out while I was going down in the elevator. I had parked in a pay lot by the Kyoto Grand Hotel and had a three-block walk that would take me right by Parker Center. I called Bosch’s cell phone as I headed to the courthouse exit.
“This is Bosch.”
“It’s Mickey Haller.”
There was a hesitation. I thought that maybe he didn’t recognize my name.
“What can I do for you?” he finally asked.
“How’s the investigation going?”
“It’s going, but nothing I can talk to you about.”
“Then I’ll just get to the point. Are you in Parker Center right now?”
“That’s right. Why?”
“I’m heading over from the courthouse. Meet me out front by the memorial.”
“Look, Haller, I’m busy. Can you just tell me what this is about?”
“Not on the phone, but I think it will be worth your while. If you’re not there when I go by, then I’ll know you’ve passed on the opportunity and I won’t bother you with it again.”
I closed the phone before he could respond. It took me five minutes to get over to Parker Center by foot. The place was in its last years of life, its replacement being built a block over on Spring Street. I saw Bosch standing next to the fountain that was part of the memorial for officers killed in the line of duty. I saw thin white wires leading from his ears to his jacket pocket. I walked up and didn’t bother with a handshake or any other greeting. He pulled the earbuds out and shoved them into his pocket.
“Shutting the world out, Detective?”
“Helps me concentrate. Is there a purpose to this meeting?”
“After you left the office today I looked at the files you had stacked on the table. In the file room.”
“And?”
“And I understand what you are trying to do. I want to help you but I want you to understand my position.”
“I understand you, Counselor. You have to protect those files and the possible killer hiding in them because those are the rules.”
I shook my head. This guy didn’t want to make it easy for me to help him.
“I’ll tell you what, Detective Bosch. Come back by the office at eight o’clock tomorrow morning and I will give you what I can.”
I think the offer surprised him. He had no response.
“You’ll be there?” I asked.
“What’s the catch?” he asked right back.
“No catch. Just don’t be late. I’ve got an interview at nine, and after that I’ll probably be on the road for client conferences.”
“I’ll be there at eight.”
“Okay, then.”
I was ready to walk away but it looked like he wasn’t.
“What is it?”
“I was going to ask you something.”
“What?”
“Did Vincent have any federal cases?”
I thought for a moment, going over what I knew of the files. I shook my head.
“We’re still reviewing everything but I don’t think so. He was like me, liked to stay in state court. It’s a numbers game. More cases, more fuck-ups, more holes to slip through. The feds kind of like to stack the deck. They don’t like to lose.”
I thought he might take the slight personally. But he had moved past it and was putting something in place. He nodded.
“Okay.”
“That’s it? That’s all you wanted to ask?”
“That’s it.”
I waited for further explanation but none came.
“Okay, Detective.”
I clumsily put out my hand. He shook it and appeared to feel just as awkward about it. I decided to ask a question I had been holding back on.
“Hey, there was something I was meaning to ask you, too.”
“What’s that?”
“It doesn’t say it on your card but I heard that your full name is Hieronymus Bosch. Is that true?”
“What about it?”
“I was just wondering, where’d you get a name like that?”
“My mother gave it to me.”
“Your mother? Well, what did your father think about it?”
“I never asked him. I have to get back to the investigation now, Counselor. Is there anything else?”
“No, that was it. I was just curious. I’ll see you tomorrow at eight.”
“I’ll be there.”
I left him standing there at the memorial and walked away. I headed down the block, thinking the whole time about why he had asked if Jerry Vincent had had any federal cases. When I turned left at the corner, I glanced back and saw Bosch still standing by the fountain. He was watching me. He didn’t look away, but I did, and I kept walking.
Eleven
Cisco and Lorna were still at work in Jerry Vincent’s office when I got back. I handed the court order for the bank over to Lorna and told her about the two early appointments I had set for the next day.
“I thought you put Patrick Henson into the dog pile,” Lorna said.
“I did. But now I moved him back.”
She put her eyebrows together the way she did whenever I confounded her – which was a lot. I didn’t want to explain things. Moving on, I asked if anything new had developed while I had gone to court.
“A couple things,” Lorna said. “First of all, the check from Walter Elliot cleared. If he heard about Jerry it’s too late to stop payment.”
“Good.”
“It gets better. I found the contracts file and took a look at Jerry’s deal with Elliot. That hundred thousand deposited Friday for trial was only a partial payment.”
She was right. It was getting better.
“How much?” I asked.
“According to the deal,” she said, “Vincent took two fifty up front. That was five months ago and it looks like that is all gone. But he was going to get another two fifty for the trial. Nonrefundable. The hundred was only the first part of that. The rest is due on the first day of testimony.”
I nodded with satisfaction. Vincent had made a great deal. I had never had a case with that kind of money involved. But I wondered how he had blown through the first $250,000 so quickly. Lorna would have to study the ins and outs of the accounts to get that answer.