Mickey Haller 4 - The Fifth Witness

to bring by the motion for a continuance for your approval and signature before filing it by the end of the day.”
    I opened my eyes. Cisco had moved to the other side of the bed.
    “What continuance?”
    “For the prelim. She’s going to ask the judge to put it back a few weeks in light of your hospitalization.”
    “No.”
    “Mick, it’s Friday. The prelim’s Tuesday. Even if they let you out of here by then you’re not going to be in any kind of condition to—”
    “She can handle it.”
    “Who, Bullocks?”
    “Yes. She’s good. She can handle it.”
    “She’s good but green. Are you sure you want somebody just out of law school handling a prelim for a murder trial?”
    “It’s a prelim. Trammel’s going to be bound over for trial whether I’m there or not. The best we can hope for is a little peek at the prosecution’s case strategy and Aronson will be able to report back on that.”
    “You think the judge is going to allow it? He might see it as a move to set up an ineffective-counsel beef if there’s ultimately a conviction.”
    “If Lisa signs off on it, we’ll be okay. I’ll call her and tell her it’s part of the case strategy. Bullocks can spend some time here with me over the weekend and I’ll prep her.”
    “But what is the case strategy, Mick? Why not just wait till you’re healthy?”
    “Because I want them to think they succeeded.”
    “Who?”
    “Opparizio. Whoever did this to me. Let them think I’m incapacitated or running scared. Whatever. Aronson handles the prelim and then we push this thing to trial.”
    Cisco nodded.
    “Got it.”
    “Good. You go now and call Maggie. Tell her to wake me up no matter what the nurses say, especially if she comes with Hayley.”
    “Will do, Boss. But, uh, there’s one more thing.”
    “What?”
    “Rojas is sitting out there in the waiting room. He wanted to visit but I told him to wait out there. He came yesterday, too, but you were sleeping.”
    I nodded. Rojas.
    “Did you check the car’s trunk?”
    “I did. I didn’t see any evidence of a pick. No scratches on the tumblers.”
    “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