Mickey Haller 4 - The Fifth Witness

whole $750 now. I thought he was happy and on the straight and narrow path, but maybe once a thief, always a thief.
    “I just want you to know, Mr. Haller, that once you get out of here, I’m on call for you twenty-four hours a day. I don’t want you driving nowhere. If you even have to go down the hill to the Starbucks, I’ll be there to take you.”
    “Thank you, Rojas. After all, I guess it’s the least you can do, right?”
    “Uh…”
    He looked confused but not that confused. He knew where this was headed. I decided not to dance around it any longer.
    “How much did he pay you?”
    He fidgeted in the seat.
    “Who? For what?”
    “Come on, Rojas. Don’t play it this way. It’s embarrassing.”
    “I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe I should go after all.”
    He stood up.
    “We don’t have an agreement, Rojas. We don’t have a contract, no verbal promises, nothing. You walk out of this room and I fire you and that’s it. Is that what you want here?”
    “Doesn’t matter if there’s an agreement. You can’t just fire me for no reason.”
    “But I have the reason, Rojas. Herb Dahl told me all about it. You should know there’s no honor among thieves. He said you called him up and told him you’d get him whatever he needs.”
    The bluff worked. I saw the rage explode in Rojas’s eyes. I had my finger on the nurse-call button just in case.
    “That greasy little shit eater!”
    I nodded.
    “Good description. How—”
    “I didn’t call his ass up. The fucker came to me. He said he just wanted fifteen seconds in the trunk. I shoulda known this would blow up on me.”
    “I thought you were smarter than that, Rojas. How much did he pay you?”
    “Four bills.”
    “Not even a week’s pay and now you’re not going to have any pay.”
    Rojas came close to the bedside. I held my finger on the call button. I figured he was going to either attack me or ask me for a deal.
    “Mr. Haller… I… need this job. My kids…”
    “This is like last time, Rojas. Didn’t you learn a lesson about ripping off your employer?”
    “Yes, sir, I did. Dahl told me he just wanted to look at something but then he took it and when I tried to stop him he said, ‘What are you going to do about it?’ He had me. I couldn’t stop him.”
    “You still have the four hundred?”
    “Yes, I didn’t spend a thing. Four hundred-dollar bills. And they looked real to me.”
    I pointed him back to the chair. I didn’t want him so close.
    “Okay, time to make a choice, Rojas. You can walk out that door with your four hundred and I’ll never see you again. Or I can give you a second—”
    “I want the second chance. Please, I’m sorry.”
    “Well, you’re going to have to earn it. You’re going to have to help me make right what you did. I am going to sue Dahl for taking that document and I am going to need you to be the witness who explains exactly what happened.”
    “I’ll do it but who will believe me?”
    “That’s where your four hundred-dollar bills come in. I want you to go home or to wherever they are and—”
    “I have them right here. In my wallet.”
    He jumped up from the seat and pulled his wallet.
    “Take them out like this.”
    I held my finger and thumb close together.
    “They can get fingerprints off money?”
    “They sure can and if we can get Dahl’s off those then it doesn’t matter what he says about you. He’s nailed.”
    I opened a drawer of the little table to the side of my bed. A plastic Ziploc bag containing my wallet and keys and loose change and currency was there. It had all been bagged by the paramedics who had been called to the garage of the Victory Building. Cisco had secured it and had only just given it back. I dumped the contents into the drawer and then handed the bag to Rojas.
    “Okay, put the money in there and seal it.”
    He did as instructed and then I waved him over to give me the bag. The hundreds looked crisp and new. Less prior handling of the currency would mean a better shot at pulling prints.
    “Cisco will take it from here. I’ll call him and tell him to come back and pick these up. At some point he’ll need your prints.”
    “Uh…”
    Rojas’s eyes were on the bag and the money.
    “What?”
    “Will I get that money back?”
    I put the bag in the drawer and slammed it shut.
    “Jesus Christ, Rojas, get out of here before I change my mind and fire your ass.”
    “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, you know?”
    “You’re