“Okay. When you go out, send him in.”
“You want to see him alone?”
“Yeah. Alone.”
“You got it.”
He left then and I grabbed the bed’s remote. I slowly and painfully raised the bed to about forty-five degrees so I was half sitting up for my next visitor. The adjustment ignited another run of searing pain that burned across my rib cage like an August brushfire.
Rojas tentatively entered the room, waving and nodding at me.
“Hey, Mr. Haller, how you doin’?”
“I’ve had better days, Rojas. How are you doing?”
“I’m good, I’m good. I just wanted to stop by and say hello and all.”
He was as nervous as a feral cat. And I thought I knew why.
“It was nice of you to come by. Why don’t you sit in that chair over there.”
“Okay.”
He took the chair in the corner. This allowed me a full view of him. I would be able to pick up all body movements as I tried to read him. He was already displaying some of the classic tells of a dissembler-avoidance of eye contact, inappropriate smiling, constant hand movement.
“Did the doctors tell you how long you have to stay here?” he asked.
“A few more days, I think. At least until I stop pissing blood.”
“Man, that’s bad shit! They going to catch who did it?”
“They don’t seem to be working too hard on it.”
Rojas nodded. I said nothing else. Silence is often a very useful interview tool. My driver then rubbed his palms up and down his thighs a few times and stood up.
“Well, I didn’t want to interrupt you. You probably have to get your sleep or something.”
“No, I’m up for the day, Rojas. It hurts too much to sleep. You can stay. What’s the hurry? You’re not driving somebody else now, are you?”
“Oh, no, no, nothing like that.”
He reluctantly sat down again. Rojas had been a client before he was my driver. He’d been popped on a possession-of-stolen-property beef and had a prior conviction to go with it. The prosecution wanted jail time but I was able to get him probation. He owed me three grand for my efforts but had lost his job since his employer was also the victim of the theft. I told him he could work it off by driving and translating for me and he took the job. I started out paying him $500 a week and counted an additional $250 against the debt. After three months the debt was cleared but he stayed on, collecting the whole $750 now. I thought he was happy and on the straight and narrow path, but maybe once a thief, always a thief.
“I just want you to know, Mr. Haller, that once you get out of here, I’m on call for you twenty-four hours a day. I don’t want you driving nowhere. If you even have to go down the hill to the Starbucks, I’ll be there to take you.”
“Thank you, Rojas. After all, I guess it’s the least you can do, right?”
“Uh…”
He looked confused but not that confused. He knew where this was headed. I decided not to dance around it any longer.
“How much did he pay you?”
He fidgeted in the seat.
“Who? For what?”
“Come on, Rojas. Don’t play it this way. It’s embarrassing.”
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe I should go after all.”
He stood up.
“We don’t have an agreement, Rojas. We don’t have a contract, no verbal promises, nothing. You walk out of this room and I fire you and that’s it. Is that what you want here?”
“Doesn’t matter if there’s an agreement. You can’t just fire me for no reason.”
“But I have the reason, Rojas. Herb Dahl told me all about it. You should know there’s no honor among thieves. He said you called him up and told him you’d get him whatever he needs.”
The bluff worked. I saw the rage explode in Rojas’s eyes. I had my finger on the nurse-call button just in case.
“That greasy little shit eater!”
I nodded.
“Good description. How-”
“I didn’t call his ass up. The fucker came to me. He said he just wanted fifteen seconds in the trunk. I shoulda known this would blow up on me.”
“I thought you were smarter than that, Rojas. How much did he pay you?”
“Four bills.”
“Not even a week’s pay and now you’re not going to have any pay.”
Rojas came close to the bedside. I held my finger on the call button. I figured he was going to either attack me or ask me for a deal.
“Mr. Haller… I… need this job. My kids…”
“This is like last time, Rojas. Didn’t you learn a lesson about ripping off your employer?”
“Yes, sir, I did. Dahl told me he just wanted to look at something but then he took it and when I tried to stop him he said, ‘What are you going to do about it?’ He had me. I couldn’t stop him.”
“You still have the four hundred?”
“Yes, I didn’t spend a thing. Four hundred-dollar bills. And they looked real to me.”
I pointed him back to the chair. I didn’t want him so close.
“Okay, time to make a choice, Rojas. You can walk out that door with your four hundred and I’ll never see you again. Or I can give you a second-”
“I want the second chance. Please, I’m sorry.”
“Well, you’re going to have to earn it. You’re going to have to help me make right what you did. I am going to sue Dahl for taking that document and I am going to need you to be the witness who explains exactly what happened.”
“I’ll do it but who will believe me?”
“That’s where your four hundred-dollar bills come in. I want you to go home or to wherever they are and-”
“I have them right here. In my wallet.”
He jumped up from the seat and pulled his wallet.
“Take them out like this.”
I held my finger and thumb close together.
“They can get fingerprints off money?”
“They sure can and if we can get Dahl’s off those then it doesn’t matter what he says about you. He’s nailed.”
I opened a drawer of the little table to the side of my bed. A plastic Ziploc bag containing my wallet and keys and loose change and currency was there. It had all been bagged by the paramedics who had been called to the garage of the Victory Building. Cisco had secured it and had only just given it back. I dumped the contents into the drawer and then handed the bag to Rojas.
“Okay, put the money in there and seal it.”
He did as instructed and then I waved him over to give me the bag. The hundreds looked crisp and new. Less prior handling of the currency would mean a better shot at pulling prints.
“Cisco will take it from here. I’ll call him and tell him to come back and pick these up. At some point he’ll need your prints.”
“Uh…”
Rojas’s eyes were on the bag and the money.
“What?”
“Will I get that money back?”
I put the bag in the drawer and slammed it shut.
“Jesus Christ, Rojas, get out of here before I change my mind and fire your ass.”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, you know?”
“You’re sorry you got caught and that’s all. Just go! I can’t believe I just gave you a second chance. I must be a fucking idiot.”
Rojas retreated like a dog with its tail between its legs. After he was gone I slowly lowered the bed and tried not to think about his betrayal or who had sent the two men in black gloves or anything else to do with the case. I looked up at the bag of clear liquid hanging up there overhead and waited for the blessed boost that would make at least some of the pain go away.
Thirteen
As expected, Lisa Trammel was held to answer and ordered to stand trial for murder by Judge Dario Morales at the end of a daylong preliminary hearing in Van Nuys Superior Court. Using Detective Howard Kurlen as her primary carrier of evidence, Prosecutor Andrea Freeman deftly presented a net of circumstantial evidence that quickly enclosed Lisa. Freeman took the case across the preponderance threshold like a hundred-meter sprinter and the judge was equally swift in rendering his ruling. It was routine. Matter-of-fact. Chop-chop and Lisa was held to answer.