Mickey Haller 4 - The Fifth Witness

have in the box. Judge, this whole thing—look, all I know is that five weeks ago the prosecution was desperate. Ms. Freeman came to my office to offer my client a deal. Whether she’ll admit it or not, she was running scared and she gave me everything I asked for. And then suddenly, we have the DNA on the shoe. Now, lo and behold, the hammer turns up and, of course, nobody’s talking about a disposition anymore. The coincidence of all of this puts it all to doubt. But the malfeasance in how it was handled should alone lead you to refuse to allow it into evidence.”
    “Your Honor,” Freeman said as soon as I was finished. “May I respond to Mr. Haller’s allegation of mal—”
    “No need to, Ms. Freeman. As I already said, this is compelling evidence. It comes in at an inopportune time but it is clearly evidence the jury should consider. I will allow it but I will also once again allow the defense extra time to prepare for it. We’re going to go back out there now and finish picking a jury. Then I am going to give them a long weekend and bring them back Monday for opening statements and the start of the trial. That gives you three extra days to prepare your opener, Mr. Haller. That should be enough time. Meanwhile, your staff, including that young go-getter you hired out of my alma mater, can work on assembling whatever experts and testing you’ll need on the hammer.”
    I shook my head. It wasn’t good enough. I was going down fast here.
    “Your Honor, I move that the trial be stayed while I take this matter up on appeal.”
    “You can take it up on appeal, Mr. Haller. That’s your right. But it’s not going to stop the trial. We go on Monday.”
    He gave me a little nod that I took as a threat. I take him up on appeal and he won’t forget it during trial.
    “Do we have anything else to discuss?” Perry asked.
    “I’m good,” Freeman said.
    “Mr. Haller?”
    I shook my head as my voice deserted me.
    “Then let’s go out there and finish picking a jury.”
    Lisa Trammel was pensively waiting for me at the defense table.
    “What happened?” she asked in an urgent whisper.
    “What happened was that we just got our asses handed to us again. This time it’s over.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean they found the fucking hammer you threw in the bushes after you killed Mitchell Bondurant.”
    “That’s crazy. I—”
    “No, you’re crazy. They can tie it directly to Bondurant and they can tie it to you. It’s right off your fucking workbench. I don’t know how you could’ve been so stupid but that’s beside the point. It actually makes keeping the bloody shoes seem like a smart choice in comparison. Now I have to figure out a way to get a deal out of Freeman when she has absolutely no need to make a deal. She’s got a slam-bang case so why cut a deal?”
    Lisa reached over with one hand and grabbed the left side of my jacket collar. She pulled me closer. Now she whispered through clenched teeth.
    “You listen to yourself. How could I have been so stupid? That’s the question and the answer is I wasn’t. You know if anything I’m not stupid. I’ve told you from day one, this is a setup. They wanted to get rid of me and this is what they did. But I didn’t do this. You’ve had it right all along. Louis Opparizio. He needed to get rid of Mitchell Bondurant and he used me as the fall guy. Bondurant sent him your letter. That started everything. I didn’t—”
    She faltered as the tears started to flood her eyes. I put my hand over hers as if to calm her and detached it from my collar. I was aware that the jury was filing into the box and didn’t want them to see any attorney-client discord.
    “I didn’t do this,” she said. “You hear me? I don’t want any deal. I won’t say I did something I didn’t do. If that’s your best shot then I want a new attorney.”
    I looked away from her to the bench. Judge Perry was watching us.
    “Ready to proceed, Mr. Haller?”
    I looked at my client and then back at the judge.
    “Yes, Your Honor. Ready to proceed.”

Twenty
    It was like being in the losing locker room but we had yet to play the game. It was Sunday afternoon, eighteen hours before opening statements to the jury, and I huddled with my crew, already conceding defeat. It was the bitter end before the trial had even begun.
    “I don’t understand,” Aronson said into the void of silence that had enveloped my office. “You said we needed a hypothesis of innocence.