Mickey Haller 4 - The Fifth Witness

out.”
    A dreadful silence fell over the table. Until Lorna spoke.
    “Wait a minute. You’re saying she planned it that way? Like she knew if she hit him on the top of the head it would throw the jury?”
    I shook my head.
    “No, that was just luck. She just wanted to stop him. She used the balloons to make sure he paused and she could come up behind him. The rest was just dumb luck… something that a defense lawyer knew how to use.”
    I couldn’t look at my colleagues. I stared off at Lisa filling balloons.
    “So… we helped her get away with it.”
    It was a statement from Lorna. Not a question.
    “Double jeopardy,” Aronson said. “She can never be tried again.”
    As if on cue Lisa looked over at us while she tied off the end of a white balloon. She handed it to another child.
    And she smiled at me.
    “Cisco, how much are they charging for the beer?”
    “Five bucks a can. It’s a rip-off.”
    “Mickey, don’t,” Lorna said. “It’s not worth it. You’ve been so good.”
    I pulled my eyes away from my client and looked at Lorna.
    “Good? Are you saying I’m one of the good guys?”
    I got up and left them there and headed toward the backyard bar, where I took my place in line. I expected Lorna to follow me but it was Aronson who came up next to me. She spoke in a very low voice.
    “Look, what are you doing? You told me not to grow a conscience. Are you telling me you did?”
    “I don’t know,” I whispered. “All I know is that she played me like a fucking fiddle and you know what? She knows I know. She just gave me that smile. I saw it in her eyes. She’s proud of it. She pulled the tank into the yard so I would see it and I would know…”
    I shook my head.
    “She had me wired from day one. Everything was part of her plan. Every last—”
    I stopped as I realized something.
    “What?” Aronson asked.
    I paused as I continued to put it together.
    “What, Mickey?”
    “Her husband wasn’t even her husband.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “The guy calling me, the guy who showed up. Where is he now for the big payday? He’s not here because that wasn’t him. He was just part of the play.”
    “Then where is the husband?”
    That was the question. But I had no answer. I didn’t have any answers anymore.
    “I’m leaving.”
    I stepped out of the line and headed toward the back door.
    “Mickey, where are you going?”
    I didn’t answer. I quickly passed through the house and out the front door. I had arrived early enough to grab a curb slot only two houses down. I was almost to the Lincoln when I heard my name called from behind.
    It was Lisa. She was walking toward me in the street.
    “Mickey! You’re leaving?”
    “Yes, I’m leaving.”
    “Why? The party’s just starting.”
    She came up close to me and stopped.
    “I’m leaving because I know, Lisa. I know.”
    “What do you think you know?”
    “That you used me like you use everybody. Even Herb Dahl.”
    “Oh, come on, you’re a defense lawyer. You’ll get more business out of this than you’ve ever had before.”
    Just like that, she acknowledged everything.
    “What if I didn’t want the business? What if I just wanted to believe something was true?”
    She paused. She didn’t get it.
    “Get over yourself, Mickey. Wake up.”
    I nodded. It was good advice.
    “Who was he, Lisa?” I asked.
    “Who was who?”
    “The guy you sent me who said he was your husband.”
    Now a small proud smile curled her bottom lip.
    “Goodbye, Mickey. Thank you for everything.”
    She turned and started walking back toward her house. And I got in my Lincoln and drove away.

Fifty-four
    I was in the backseat of the Lincoln cruising through the Third Street tunnel when my phone started to buzz. The screen said it was Maggie. I told Rojas to kill the music—it was “Judgement Day” off the latest Eric Clapton album—and took the call.
    “Did you do it?” she asked first thing.
    I looked out the window as we broke clear of the tunnel and into the bright sunlight. It fit with the way I was feeling. It had been three weeks since the verdict and the further I got away from it the better I felt. I was on the road to something else now.
    “I did.”
    “Wow! Congratulations.”
    “I’m still the longest long shot you’ll ever see. The field is full and I’ve got no money.”
    “Doesn’t matter. You’re a name in this town and there’s a certain integrity about you that people see and respond to. I know I did. Plus