Mickey Haller 4 - The Fifth Witness

Herb Dahl is not your attorney and does not have your best interests as his priority. He has Herb Dahl’s. Okay? I can’t seem to get the message through to you. You have to cut him loose. He—”
    “No! I can’t! I won’t! He’s the only one who truly cares.”
    “Oh, that’s really breaking my heart, Lisa. If he’s the only one who cares about you what’s he doing still talking to those people?”
    I pointed to the knot of reporters and photographers. Sure enough, Dahl was still holding forth, feeding them whatever they needed.
    “What is he saying to them, Lisa? Do you know? Because I sure as shit don’t and that’s sort of funny because you’re the defendant and I’m the defense attorney. Who’s he?”
    “He can speak for me,” Lisa said.
    As we watched Dahl pointing his finger to call on reporters, I saw the door to the courtroom we had just left swing open. Andrea Freeman strode out, holding my sixth motion in her hand, her eyes scanning the hallway. At first she zeroed in on the media knot but then she saw it was not me at the center of it. When her radar picked me up, she corrected her course and made a beeline right toward me. A few of the reporters called to her but she sharply waved them off with the document.
    “Lisa, go over to one of those benches and sit down and wait for me. And don’t talk to any reporters.”
    “What about—”
    “Just do it.”
    As Lisa walked away Freeman came up on me. She was mad and I could see the fire in her eyes.
    “What is this shit, Haller?”
    She held up the paper. I maintained a calm demeanor even as she stepped right into my personal space.
    “Well,” I said, “I think it’s pretty obvious what it is. It’s a motion to have you dismissed from the case because you have a conflict of interest.”
    “I have a conflict of interest? What conflict?”
    “Look, Andy—I can call you Andy, right? I mean my daughter does so I should, too, don’t you think?”
    “Cut the shit, Haller.”
    “Sure, I can do that. The conflict that I am objecting to is that you’ve been discussing this case with my ex-wife and—”
    “Who happens to be a prosecutor working in the same office as me.”
    “That’s true but these discussions haven’t taken place in the office exclusively. In fact, they’ve taken place at yoga and in front of my daughter and probably all over the Valley, as far as I know.”
    “Oh, come on. This is such bullshit.”
    “Really? Then why did you lie to me?”
    “I’ve never lied. What are you—”
    “I asked you if you knew my ex-wife and you said in passing. That’s not really the truth, is it?”
    “I just didn’t want to get into it with you.”
    “So you lied. I didn’t mention that in the motion but I could add it before I file it. The judge could decide if it is important.”
    She blew out her breath in agitated surrender.
    “What do you want?”
    I looked around. No one could hear us.
    “What do I want? I want to show you that I can play it your way, too. You want to be a hard-ass with me, I can be one with you.”
    “Meaning what, Haller? What’s the quid pro quo?”
    I nodded. We were getting down to the deal now.
    “You know if I file this tomorrow you are history. The judge will err on the side of the defense. He’ll avoid anything that might have any chance of getting him reversed. Besides, he knows there are three hundred able-bodied prosecutors in the DA’s office. They can just send in a replacement.”
    I pointed to the gaggle of reporters assembled in the hall, most of them still surrounding Herb Dahl.
    “You see all of those reporters and all that attention? All of that will go away. Probably the biggest case of your career and it all goes away. No press conferences, no headlines, no spotlight. It all goes to whoever they send in to take your place.”
    “First of all I will fight this thing and it is not a given that Judge Morales will fall for your bullshit. I will tell him exactly what you are doing. Trying to DA-shop. Trying to get rid of a prosecutor you are flat-out scared of.”
    “You can tell him all you like but you’ll still have to tell the judge—in open court—how it is that my fourteen-year-old daughter was reciting facts of this case back to me at dinner last week.”
    “That is bullshit. You should be ashamed of using your—”
    “What, are you saying that I’m the liar or my daughter is the liar? Because we can bring her into court, too. I’m not so sure your bosses