Mickey Haller 4 - The Fifth Witness

searched your house yesterday they took some other things we haven’t talked about. One was described as a journal. Do you know what this was?”
    “Yes, I was writing a book. A book about my journey.”
    “Your journey?”
    “Yes, the journey to finding myself in this cause. The movement. Helping people fight to save their homes.”
    “Okay, so it was like a diary of the protests and things like that?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Do you remember if you ever put Mitchell Bondurant’s name in the journal?”
    She looked down as she searched her memory.
    “I don’t think so. But I may have mentioned him. You know, said that he was the man behind everything.”
    “Nothing about hurting him?”
    “No, nothing like that. And I didn’t hurt him! I didn’t do this!”
    “I’m not asking you that, Lisa. I am trying to figure out what evidence they have against you. So you’re saying that this journal is not going to be a problem for us, correct?”
    “That’s right. It will be no problem. There’s nothing bad in there.”
    “Okay, good.”
    I looked at the other members of my staff. The verbal sparring with Lisa had made me forget the next question. Cisco prompted me.
    “The witness?”
    “Right. Lisa, yesterday morning at the time of the murder, were you anywhere near the WestLand National building in Sherman Oaks?”
    She didn’t answer right away, which told me we had a problem.
    “Lisa?”
    “My son goes to school in Sherman Oaks. I take him in the mornings and I drive right by that building.”
    “That’s okay. So you drove by yesterday. What time would that have been?”
    “Um, about seven forty-five.”
    “That was taking him to school, right?”
    “Right.”
    “What about after you drop him off? Do you go back the same way?”
    “Yes, most days.”
    “What about yesterday? We’re talking about yesterday. Did you drive back by?”
    “I think so, yes.”
    “You don’t remember?”
    “No, I did. I take Ventura to Van Nuys and then up to the freeway.”
    “So did you go back by after dropping off Tyler or did you do something else?”
    “I stopped to get coffee and then I went home. I drove by then.”
    “What time?”
    “I’m not sure. I wasn’t watching the clock. I think it was around eight thirty.”
    “Did you ever get out of your car in the vicinity of WestLand National?”
    “No, of course not.”
    “You are sure?”
    “Of course I’m sure. I would remember that, don’t you think?”
    “Okay. Where did you stop to get your coffee?”
    “At the Joe’s Joe on Ventura by Woodman. I always go there.”
    I paused. I looked at Cisco and then at Aronson. Cisco had previously reported that Mitchell Bondurant had been carrying a cup of Joe’s Joe when attacked. I decided not to ask the obvious question yet about whether Lisa had seen or interacted with Bondurant at the coffee shop. As Lisa’s defense attorney I would be bound by what I knew. I could never assist in perjury. If Lisa was to tell me that she had seen Bondurant and even exchanged words with him then I would not be allowed to have her spin a different story at trial if she was to testify.
    I had to be careful about soliciting information that would constrain me this early in the case. I knew this was a contradiction. My mission was to know all I could and yet there were things I didn’t want to know right now. Sometimes knowing things limits you. Not knowing them gives you more latitude in crafting a defense.
    Aronson was staring at me, obviously wondering why I wasn’t asking the follow-up question. I just gave her a quick head shake. I would explain my reasons to her later—one more lesson they didn’t teach her in law school.
    I stood up.
    “Lisa, I think that’s enough for today. You’ve given us a lot of information and we’ll go to work on it. I’ll have my driver take you home now.”

Seven
    She was fourteen years old and still liked to eat pancakes for dinner. My daughter and I had a booth at the Du-par’s in Studio City. Our Wednesday night ritual. I picked her up from her mother’s and we stopped for pancakes on the way back to my place. She did her homework and I did my casework. It was my most treasured routine.
    The official custody arrangement was that I had Hayley every Wednesday night and then every other weekend. We alternated Christmases and Thanksgivings and I also had her for two weeks in the summer. But that was just the official arrangement. Things had been going well over