Lorna looked at the notes on her steno pad. I knew she didn’t like to be rushed but I was rushing her.
“You’re still getting a lot of calls from the local media. About Jerry Vincent or Walter Elliot or both. You want to go over them?”
“No. I don’t have the time for any media calls.”
“Well, that’s what I’ve been telling them but it’s not making them happy. Especially that guy from the Times. He’s being an asshole.”
“So what if they’re not happy? I don’t care.”
“Well, you better be careful, Mickey. Hell hath no fury like the media scorned.”
It was a good point. The media can love you one day and bury you the next. My father had spent twenty years as a media darling. But toward the end of his professional life, he had become a pariah because the reporters had grown weary of him getting guilty men off. He became the embodiment of a justice system that had different rules for well-heeled defendants with powerful attorneys.
“I’ll try to be more accommodating,” I said. “Just not now.”
“Fine.”
“Anything else to report?”
“I think that’s – I told you about Wren, so that’s all I have. You’ll call the prosecutor on Patrick’s case?”
“Yes, I will call him.”
I looked over Lorna’s shoulder at Cisco, who was still standing.
“Okay, Cisco, your turn. What’ve you got?”
“Still working on Elliot. Mostly in regard to Rilz and some hand-holding with our witnesses.”
“I have a question about witnesses,” Lorna interrupted. “Where do you want to put up Dr. Arslanian?”
Shamiram Arslanian was the gunshot residue authority Vincent had scheduled to bring in from New York as an expert witness to knock down the state’s expert witness at trial. She was the best in the field and, with Walter Elliot’s financial reserves, Vincent was going with the best money could buy. I wanted her close to the downtown CCB but the choice of hotels was limited.
“Try Checkers first,” I said. “And get her a suite. If they’re booked, then try the Standard and then the Kyoto Grand. But get a suite so we have room to work.”
“Got it. And what about Muniz? You want him in close, too?”
Julio Muniz was a freelance videographer who lived in Topanga Canyon. Because of his home’s proximity to Malibu he had been the first member of the media to respond to the crime scene after hearing the call out for homicide investigators on the sheriff’s radio band. He had shot video of Walter Elliot with the sheriff’s deputies outside the beach house. He was a valuable witness because his videotape and his own recollections could be used to confirm or contradict testimony offered by sheriff’s deputies and investigators.
“I don’t know,” I said. “It can take anywhere from an hour to three hours to get from Topanga to downtown. I’d rather not risk it. Cisco, is he willing to come in and stay at a hotel?”
“Yeah, just as long as we’re paying and he can order room service.”
“Okay, then bring him in. Also, where’s the video? There are only notes on it in the file. I don’t want the first time I look at the video to be in court.”
Cisco looked puzzled.
“I don’t know. But if it’s not around here, I can have Muniz dub off a copy.”
“Well, I haven’t seen it around here. So get me a copy. What else?”
“Couple other things. First, I got with my source on the Vincent thing and he didn’t know anything about a suspect or this photo Bosch showed you this morning.”
“Nothing?”
“Nada.”
“What do you think? Does Bosch know your guy’s the leak and is shutting him out?”
“I don’t know. But everything I was telling him about this photo was news to him.”
I took a few moments to consider what this meant.
“Did Bosch ever come back and show the photo to Wren?”
“No,” Lorna said. “I was with her all morning. Bosch never came in then or after lunch.”
I wasn’t sure what any of this meant but I couldn’t become bogged down with it. I had to get to the files.
“What was the second thing?” I asked Cisco.
“What?”
“You said you had a couple other things to tell me. What was the second thing?”
“Oh, yeah. I called Vincent’s liquidator and you had that right. He’s still got one of Patrick’s long boards.”
“What’s he want for it?”
“Nothing.”
I looked at Cisco and raised my eyebrows, asking where the catch was.
“Let’s just say he’d like to do you the favor. He lost a good client in Vincent. I think he’s hoping you’ll use him for future liquidations. And I didn’t dissuade him from the idea or tell him you usually don’t barter property for services with your clients.”
I understood. The surfboard would not come with any real strings attached.
“Thanks, Cisco. Did you take it with you?”
“No, he didn’t have it at the office. But he made a call and somebody was supposed to bring it in to him this afternoon. I could go back and get it if you want.”
“No, just get me an address and I’ll have Patrick pick it up. What happened with Bruce Carlin? Didn’t you debrief him today? Maybe he’s got the Muniz tape.”
I was anxious to hear about Bruce Carlin on several levels. Most important, I wanted to know if he had worked for Vincent on the Eli Wyms case. If so, he might be able to lead me to the magic bullet.
But Cisco didn’t answer my question. Lorna turned and they looked at each other as if wondering which one of them should deliver the bad news.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Lorna turned back to me.
“Carlin’s fucking with us,” she said.
I could see the angry set of her jaw. And I knew she reserved that kind of language for special occasions. Something had gone wrong with Carlin’s debriefing and she was particularly upset.
“How so?”
“Well, he never showed up at two like he said he would. Instead, he called at two – right after Wren called and quit – and gave us the new parameters of his deal.”
I shook my head in annoyance.
“His deal? How much does he want?”
“Well, I guess he realized that at two hundred dollars an hour he wouldn’t make much, since he was probably going to bill only two or three hours tops. That’s all Cisco would need with him. So he called up and said he wanted a flat fee or we could figure out things on our own.”
“Like I said, how much?”
“Ten thousand dollars.”
“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
“My words exactly.”
I looked from her to Cisco.
“This is extortion. Isn’t there a state agency that regulates you guys? Can’t we come down on his shit somehow?”
Cisco shook his head.
“There are all kinds of regulatory agencies but this is a shady area.”
“Yeah, I know it’s shady. He’s shady. I’ve thought that for years.”
“What I mean is, he had no deal with Vincent. We can’t find any contract. So he’s not required to give us anything. We simply need to hire him and he’s setting his price at ten grand. It’s a bullshit rip-off but it’s probably legal. I mean, you’re the lawyer. You tell me.”
I thought about it for a few moments and then tried to push it aside. I was still riding on the adrenaline charge I’d picked up in the courthouse. I didn’t want it to dissipate with distractions.
“All right, I’ll ask Elliot if he wants to pay it. Meantime, I’m going to hit all the files again tonight, and if I get lucky and crack through, then we won’t need him. We say fuck you and are done with him.”
“Asshole,” Lorna muttered.
I was pretty sure that was directed at Bruce Carlin and not me.
“Okay, is that it?” I asked. “Anything else?”
I looked from one face to the other. Nobody had anything else to bring up.
“Okay, then, thank you both for all you’ve been putting up with and doing this week. Go out and have a good night.”