Mickey Haller 4 - The Fifth Witness

details I had about the federal investigation. Herb Dahl trailed behind us like the tail on a kite. I was uncomfortable speaking to both of them.
    “Look, I don’t know what it means, Lisa. That’s one reason why the judge broke early today. So both the defense and the prosecution can do some work on it. You have to just back off for a bit and let me and my staff handle it.”
    “But this could be it, right, Mickey?”
    “What do you mean, ‘it’?”
    “The evidence that shows it wasn’t me—that proves it!”
    I stopped and turned to her. Her eyes were searching my face for any sign of affirmation. Something about her desperation made me think for the first time that she may have truly been framed for Bondurant’s murder.
    But that wasn’t like me, to believe in innocence.
    “Look, Lisa, I am hoping that it will very clearly demonstrate to the jury that there is a strong alternate possibility, complete with motive and opportunity. But you need to calm down and recognize that it might not be evidence of anything. I expect that the prosecution is going to come in tomorrow with an argument to keep it away from the jury. We have to be prepared to fend that off as well as to proceed without it. So I have a lot—”
    “They can’t just do that! This is evidence!”
    “Lisa, they can argue anything they want. And the judge will decide. The good thing is he owes us one. In fact, he owes us two for the hammer and the DNA dropping out of the sky. So I hope he’ll do the right thing here and we’ll get it in. That’s why you have to let me go now. I need to get back to the office and get to work on this.”
    She reached up and patted down my tie and adjusted the collar on my suit coat.
    “Okay, I get it. You do what you have to do, but call me tonight, okay? I want to know where things stand at the end of the day.”
    “If there’s time, Lisa. If I’m not too tired, I will call.”
    I looked over her shoulder at Dahl, who stood two feet behind her. I actually needed the guy at the moment.
    “Herb, take care of her. Get her home so I can go back to work.”
    “I’ve got her,” he said. “No worries.”
    Right, no worries. I had the whole case to worry about and I couldn’t help but worry about my client going off with the man I just sent her with. Was Dahl for real or was he just protecting his investment? I watched them head off across the plaza toward the parking garage. I then walked past the library and north toward my office. I was probably more excited about the possibilities that had dropped into my lap than Lisa was. I just wasn’t showing it. You never show your cards unless your opponent has called the final bet.
    When I got back to the office I was still floating on adrenaline. The pure, high-octane form that comes with the unexpected twist in your favor. Cisco and Bullocks were waiting for me when I entered. They both started talking at once and I had to raise my hands to cut them both off.
    “Hold on, hold on,” I said. “One at a time and I go first. Perry adjourned early so the state could jump on the target letter. We need to be ready for their best shot in the morning because I want to get it before the jury. Cisco, now you, what’ve you got? Tell me about the letter.”
    My momentum, carried all the way from the courthouse, took us into my office and I went behind the desk. The seat was warm and I could tell someone had been working there all afternoon.
    “Okay,” Cisco said. “We confirmed the letter was legit. The U.S. Attorney’s Office wouldn’t talk to us, but I found out that the Secret Service agent who’s named in the letter, Charles Vasquez, is assigned to a joint task force with the FBI that is looking into all angles of mortgage fraud in the Southern California district. Remember last year when all the big banks temporarily halted foreclosures and everybody in Congress said they would investigate?”
    “Yeah, I thought I was going out of business. Until the banks started foreclosing again.”
    “Yeah, well, one of the investigations that did get going was right here. Lattimore put together this task force.”
    Reggie Lattimore was the U.S. attorney assigned to the district. I knew him years ago when he was a public defender. He later switched sides and became a federal prosecutor and we moved in different orbits. I tried to stay away from the federal courthouse. I saw him from time to time at lunch counters downtown.
    “Okay, he won’t talk to us. What