The Lincoln Lawyer

hard copy?”
    “We think.”
    “Did you check Raul’s phones for a tap? Somehow somebody knew he found the ticket.”
    “We did. They were clear. Bugs could have been removed at the time of the murder. Or maybe it was someone else’s phone that was tapped.”
    Meaning mine. Meaning it might explain how Roulet knew so many of my moves and was even conveniently waiting for me in my home the night I had come home from seeing Jesus Menendez.
    “I will have them checked,” I said. “Does all of this mean I am clear on Raul’s murder?”
    “Not necessarily,” Sobel said. “We still want to see what comes back from ballistics. We’re hoping for something today.”
    I nodded. I didn’t know how to respond. Sobel lingered, looking like she wanted to tell me or ask me something.
    “What?” I said.
    “I don’t know. Is there anything you want to tell me?”
    “I don’t know. There’s nothing to tell.”
    “Really? In the courtroom it seemed like you were trying to tell us a lot.”
    I was silent a moment, trying to read between the lines.
    “What do you want from me, Detective Sobel?”
    “You know what I want. I want Raul Levin’s killer.”
    “Well, so do I. But I couldn’t give you Roulet on Levin even if I wanted to. I don’t know how he did it. And that’s off the record.”
    “So that still leaves you in the crosshairs.”
    She looked down the hall at the elevators, her implication clear. If the ballistics matched, I could still have a problem on Levin. They would use it as leverage. Give up how Roulet did it or go down for it myself. I changed the subject.
    “How long do you think before Jesus Menendez gets out?” I asked.
    She shrugged.
    “Hard to say. Depends on the case they build against Roulet-if they have a case. But I know one thing. They can’t prosecute Roulet as long as another man is in prison for the same crime.”
    I turned and walked over to the glass wall. I put my free hand on the railing that ran along the glass. I felt a mixture of elation and dread and that moth still batting around in my chest.
    “That’s all I care about,” I said quietly. “Getting him out. That and Raul.”
    She came over and stood next to me.
    “I don’t know what you are doing,” she said. “But leave the rest for us.”
    “I do that and your partner will probably put me in jail for a murder I didn’t commit.”
    “You are playing a dangerous game,” she said. “Leave it alone.”
    I looked at her and then back down at the plaza.
    “Sure,” I said. “I’ll leave it alone now.”
    Having heard what she needed to, she made a move to go.
    “Good luck,” she said.
    I looked at her again.
    “Same to you.”
    She left then and I stayed. I turned back to the window and looked down into the plaza. I saw Dobbs and Windsor crossing the concrete squares and heading toward the parking garage. Mary Windsor was leaning against her lawyer for support. I doubted they were still headed to lunch at Orso.

FORTY-FIVE
    B y that night the word had begun to spread. Not the secret details but the public story. The story that I had won the case, gotten a DA’s motion to dismiss with no comebacks, only to have my client arrested for a murder in the hallway outside the courtroom where I had just cleared him. I got calls from every other defense pro I knew. I got call after call until my cell phone finally died. My colleagues were all congratulating me. In their eyes, there was no downside. Roulet was the ultimate franchise. I got schedule A fees for one trial and then I would get schedule A fees for the next one. It was a double-dip most defense pros could only dream about. And, of course, when I told them I would not be handling the defense of the new case, each one of them asked if I could refer him to Roulet.
    It was the one call that came in on my home line that I wanted the most. It was from Maggie McPherson.
    “I’ve been waiting for your call all night,” I said.
    I was pacing in the kitchen, tethered by the phone cord. I had checked my phones when I had gotten home and found no evidence of bugging devices.
    “Sorry, I’ve been in the conference room,” she said.
    “I heard you were pulled in on Roulet.”
    “Yes, that’s why I’m calling. They’re going to cut him loose.”
    “What are you talking about? They’re letting him go?”
    “Yes. They’ve had him for nine hours in a room and he hasn’t broken. Maybe you taught him too well not to talk, because he’s a rock and they