The Lincoln Lawyer

Corliss, how old are you?”
    “Forty-three.”
    “You go by Dwayne?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Any other names?”
    “People called me D.J. when I was growing up. Everybody called me that.”
    “And where did you grow up?”
    “ Mesa, Arizona.”
    “Mr. Corliss, how many times have you been arrested before?”
    Minton objected but the judge overruled. I knew she was going to give me a lot of room with this witness since I was the one who had supposedly been sandbagged.
    “How many times have you been arrested before, Mr. Corliss?” I asked again.
    “I think about seven.”
    “So you’ve been in a number of jails in your time, haven’t you?”
    “You could say that.”
    “All in Los Angeles County?”
    “Mostly. But I got arrested over in Phoenix before, too.”
    “So you know how the system works, don’t you?”
    “I just try to survive.”
    “And sometimes surviving means ratting out your fellow inmates, doesn’t it?”
    “Your Honor?” Minton said, standing to object.
    “Take a seat, Mr. Minton,” Fullbright said. “I gave you a lot of leeway bringing this witness in. Mr. Haller gets his share of it now. The witness will answer the question.”
    The stenographer read the question back to Corliss.
    “I suppose so.”
    “How many times have you snitched on another inmate?”
    “I don’t know. A few times.”
    “How many times have you testified in a court proceeding for the prosecution?”
    “Would that include my own cases?”
    “No, Mr. Corliss. For the prosecution. How many times have you testified against a fellow inmate for the prosecution?”
    “I think this is my fourth time.”
    I looked surprised and aghast, although I was neither.
    “So you are a pro, aren’t you? You could almost say your occupation is drug-addicted jailhouse snitch.”
    “I just tell the truth. If people tell me things that are bad, then I feel obligated to report it.”
    “But you try to get people to tell you things, don’t you?”
    “No, not really. I guess I’m just a friendly guy.”
    “A friendly guy. So what you expect this jury to believe is that a man you didn’t know would just come out of the blue and tell you-a perfect stranger-that he gave a bitch exactly what she deserved. Is that correct?”
    “It’s what he said.”
    “So he just mentioned that to you and then you both just went back to talking about cigarettes after that, is that right?”
    “Not exactly.”
    “Not exactly? What do you mean by ‘not exactly’?”
    “He also told me he did it before. He said he got away with it before and he would get away with it now. He was bragging about it because with the other time, he said he killed the bitch and got away with it.”
    I froze for a moment. I then glanced at Roulet, who sat as still as a statue with surprise on his face, and then back at the witness.
    “You…”
    I started and stopped, acting like I was the man in the minefield who had just heard the
click
come from beneath my foot. In my peripheral vision I noticed Minton’s body posture tightening.
    “Mr. Haller?” the judge prompted.
    I broke my stare from Corliss and looked at the judge.
    “Your Honor, I have no further questions at this time.”

FORTY
    M inton came up from his seat like a boxer coming out of his corner at his bleeding opponent. “Redirect, Mr. Minton?” Fullbright asked.
    But he was already at the lectern.
    “Absolutely, Your Honor.”
    He looked at the jury as if to underline the importance of the upcoming exchange and then at Corliss.
    “You said he was bragging, Mr. Corliss. How so?”
    “Well, he told me about this time he actually killed a girl and got away with it.”
    I stood up.
    “Your Honor, this has nothing to do with the case at hand and it is rebuttal to no evidence previously offered by the defense. The witness can’t -”
    “Your Honor,” Minton cut in, “this is information brought forward by defense counsel. The prosecution is entitled to pursue it.”
    “I will allow it,” Fullbright said.
    I sat down and appeared dejected. Minton plowed ahead. He was going just where I wanted him to go.
    “Mr. Corliss, did Mr. Roulet offer any of the details of this previous incident in which he said he got away with killing a woman?”
    “He called the girl a snake dancer. She danced in some joint where she was like in a snake pit.”
    I felt Roulet wrap his fingers around my biceps and squeeze. His hot breath came into my ear.
    “What the fuck is this?” he