Mickey Haller 4 - The Fifth Witness

about Vasquez?”
    “I tried him, too. I got him on the line, but as soon as he knew what it was about he had no comment. I called back a second time and he just hung up on me. I think if we want to talk to him we’re going to have to paper him.”
    I knew from experience that trying to serve a subpoena on a federal agent could be like fishing without a hook on the end of your line. If they don’t want to be papered they’ll be able to avoid it.
    “We might not have to,” I said. “The judge adjourned early so the prosecution could run the letter down. My guess is she’ll bring either Lattimore or Vasquez in and put him on before we can do it. Then she can try to spin it her way.”
    “She won’t want this to blow up in her face during the defense phase,” Aronson added, like the seasoned trial veteran she was not. “And the best way to guard against that is to bring Vasquez in as a witness herself.”
    “What do we know about this task force?” I asked.
    “I don’t have anybody inside,” Cisco said. “But I’ve got someone close enough to know what is going on. The task force is obviously very political. The thinking was that there is so much fraud out there, it would be like shooting fish and they could grab headlines and look like they were doing something on their end about the whole mess. Opparizio is a perfect target: rich, arrogant and Republican. Whatever they are working in regard to him, it’s just starting and hasn’t gone very deep.”
    “Doesn’t matter,” I said. “The target letter is all we need. It will make Bondurant’s letter look like a legitimate threat.”
    “Do you really think this is what happened or are we just using this coincidence to deflect the jury’s attention?” Aronson asked.
    She was still standing even though Cisco and I had sat down. There was something symbolic about it. As if by not sitting down with us as we schemed this out, she was not buying in or selling her soul.
    “It doesn’t matter, Bullocks,” I said. “We have one job here and that’s to put a not guilty on the scoreboard. How we get there…”
    I didn’t need to finish. I could see in her face that she was continuing to have difficulty with the lessons taught outside the classroom. I turned back to Cisco.
    “So who leaked the letter to us?”
    “That I don’t know,” he said. “I kind of doubt it was Vasquez. He acted too surprised and edgy on the phone. I’m thinking somebody in the U.S. Attorney’s Office.”
    I agreed.
    “Maybe Lattimore himself. If we’re lucky enough to get Opparizio on the stand, it might actually help the feds to have him locked into some sworn testimony.”
    Cisco nodded. It was as good a possibility as anything else. I moved on.
    “Cisco,” I said, “the text you sent me in the courtroom said you had something unrelated to this to tell me.”
    “To show you. We need to take a ride when we’re finished here.”
    “Where?”
    “I’d rather just show you.”
    I could tell by the way his face froze that he wasn’t going to talk in front of Bullocks. It didn’t matter that she was a trusted part of the team. I got the message and turned back to her.
    “Bullocks, you wanted to say something when I first came in?”
    “Uh, no, I just wanted to talk about my testimony. But we have a few days before we need to touch base. I guess we should just stay in the moment.”
    “You sure? I can talk.”
    “No, go with Cisco. Maybe we’ll get some time tomorrow.”
    I could tell that something in the initial conversation was bothering her. I let it go and got up from my desk. I felt sympathy for her but not too much. Idealism dies hard with everybody.

Thirty
    I drove the Lincoln because Cisco had ridden his motorcycle to work. He directed me north on Van Nuys Boulevard.
    “Is this about Lisa’s husband?” I asked. “You found him?”
    “Uh, no, not about that. It’s about the two guys in the garage, Boss.”
    “The guys who attacked me? You connected them to Opparizio?”
    “Yes and no. It’s about them, but it’s not connected to Opparizio.”
    “Then who the hell sent them after me?”
    “Herb Dahl.”
    “What? You gotta be shitting me.”
    “I wish.”
    I looked over at my investigator. I completely trusted him but wasn’t seeing the logic in Dahl’s putting the two goons on me. We’d had the dispute over movie control and money, but how would busting my ribs and twisting my nuts help him in that regard? At the time of the attack,