“We can work on that. We can coach her.”
“Yeah, well, we just have to be careful with that. I am not saying she isn’t fine the way she is. I’m just saying that she’s sort of a flat line. Everything else is good. I think you’re going to like her and I think she’ll help us put Jessup back in prison.”
“That’s fantastic, Maggie. Really. And you’re still all right handling her at trial, right?”
“I’ve got her.”
“Royce will attack her on the meth-memory loss and all of that. Her lifestyle… you’ll have to be ready for anything and everything.”
“I will be. That leaves you with Bosch and Jessup. You still think he’ll testify?”
“Jessup? Yes, he’s got to. Clive knows he can’t do that to a jury, not after twenty-four years. So, yes, I’ve got him and I’ve got Bosch.”
“At least with Harry you don’t have to worry about any baggage.”
“That Clive knows about yet.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means don’t underestimate Clever Clive Royce. See, that’s what you prosecutors always do. You get overconfident and it makes you vulnerable.”
“Thank you, F. Lee Bailey. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“How was Bosch today?”
“He was Bosch. What happened on your end?”
I checked through the door of the kitchen. Hayley was sitting on the couch with her homework spread out on the coffee table.
“Well, for one thing, we’ve got a judge. Breitman, Department one-twelve.”
Maggie considered the case assignment for a moment before responding.
“I would call that a no-win for either side. She’s straight down the middle. Never a prosecutor, never a defense attorney. Just a good, solid civil trial lawyer. I think neither side gets an advantage with her.”
“Wow, a judge who’s going to be impartial and fair. Imagine that.”
She didn’t respond.
“She set the first status conference in chambers. Wednesday morning at eight before court starts. You read anything into that?”
This meant the judge wanted to meet the lawyers and discuss the case in chambers, starting things off informally and away from the lens of the media.
“I think that’s good. She’s probably going to set the rules with media and procedure. It sounds to me like she’s going to run a tight ship.”
“That was what I was thinking. You’re free Wednesday to be there?”
“I’ll have to check my calendar but I think so. I’m trying to clear everything except for this.”
“I gave Royce the first bit of discovery today. It was mostly composed of material from the first trial.”
“You know you could have held off on that until the thirty-day marker.”
“Yeah, but what’s the point?”
“The point is strategy. The earlier you give it to him, the more time he has to be ready for it. He’s trying to put the squeeze on us by not waiving speedy trial. You should put the squeeze right back on him by not showing our hand until we have to. Thirty days before trial.”
“I’ll remember that with the next round. But this was pretty basic stuff.”
“Was Sarah Gleason on the witness list?”
“Yes, but under the name Sarah Landy-as it was in ’eighty-six. And I gave the office as the address. Clive doesn’t know we found her.”
“We need to keep it that way until we have to reveal it. I don’t want her harassed or feeling threatened.”
“What did you tell her about coming down for the trial?”
“I told her she would probably be needed for two days in trial. Plus the travel.”
“And that’s not going to be a problem?”
“Well… she runs her own business and has been at it only a couple years. She has one big, ongoing project but otherwise said that things are slow. My guess is we can get her down when we need her.”
“Are you still in Port Townsend?”
“Yes, we just got finished with her about an hour ago. We grabbed dinner and checked in at a hotel. It’s been a long day.”
“And you’re coming back tomorrow?”
“We were planning on it. But our flight’s not till two. We have to take a ferry-it’s a journey just to the airport.”
“Okay, call me in the morning before you leave. Just in case I think of something involving the witness.”
“Okay.”
“Did either of you take notes?”
“No, we thought it might freeze her.”
“Did you record it?”
“No, same reason.”
“Good. I want to keep as much of this out of discovery as possible. Tell Bosch not to write anything up. We can copy Royce on the six-pack she made the ID off of, but that’s it.”
“Right. I’ll tell Harry.”
“When, tonight or tomorrow?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, never mind. Anything else?”
“Yes.”
I braced for it. My petty jealousy had slipped out for one small moment.
“I would like to say good night to my daughter now.”
“Oh,” I said, relief bursting through my body. “I’ll put her on.”
I took the phone out to Hayley.
“It’s your mother.”
PART TWO-The Labyrinth
Fourteen
Tuesday, February 23, 8:45 P.M .
Each of them worked in silence. Bosch at one end of the dining room table, his daughter at the other. He with the first batch of SIS surveillance logs, she with her homework, her school books and laptop computer spread out in front of her. They were close in proximity but not in much else. The Jessup case had become all-encompassing with Bosch tracing old witnesses and trying to find new ones. He had spent little time with her in recent days. Like her parents, Maddie was good at holding grudges and had not let go of the perceived slight of having been left for a night in the care of an assistant school principal. She was giving Harry the silent treatment and already at fourteen she was an expert at it.
The SIS logs were another frustration to Bosch. Not because of what they contained but because of their delay in reaching him. They had been sent through bureaucratic channels, from the SIS office to the RHD office and then to Bosch’s supervisor, where they had sat in an in basket for three days before finally being dropped on Bosch’s desk. The result was he had logs from the first three days of the surveillance of Jason Jessup and he was looking at them three to six days after the fact. That process was too slow and Bosch was going to have to do something about it.
The logs were terse accounts of the surveillance subject’s movements by date, time and location. Most entries carried only a single line of description. The logs came with an accompanying set of photos as well, but most of the shots were taken at a significant distance so the followers could avoid detection. These were grainy images of Jessup as he moved about the city as a free man.
Bosch read through the reports and quickly surmised that Jessup was already leading separate public and private lives. By day his movements were in concert with the media as he very publicly reacquainted himself with life outside a prison cell. It was about learning to drive again, to choose off a menu, to go for a three-mile run without having to make a turn. But by night a different Jessup emerged. Unaware that he was still being watched by eyes and cameras, he went out cruising alone in his borrowed car. He went to all corners of the city. He went to bars, strip clubs, a prostitute’s trick pad.
Of all his activities, one was most curious to Bosch. On his fourth night of freedom, Jessup had driven up to Mulholland Drive, the winding road atop the crest of the Santa Monica Mountains, which cut the city in half. Day or night, Mulholland offered some of the best views of the city. It was no surprise that Jessup would go up there. There were overlooks that offered north and south views of the shimmering lights of the city. They could be invigorating and even majestic. Bosch had gone to these spots himself in the past.