The Lincoln Lawyer

thought I had forgotten about the money, they had a lot to learn about me. Dobbs looked at Roulet and got an approving nod. Dobbs then nodded to me.
    “Sounds like a plan,” he said. “We’ll meet again there.”
    Fifteen minutes later I was riding in the back of the Lincoln with Levin. We were following a silver Mercedes carrying Dobbs and Roulet. I was checking with Lorna on the phone. The only message of importance had come from Gloria Dayton’s prosecutor, Leslie Faire. The message was we had a deal.
    “So,” Levin said when I closed the phone. “What do you really think?”
    “I think there is a lot of money to be made on this case and we’re about to go get the first installment. Sorry I’m dragging you over there. I didn’t want it to seem like it was all about the check.”
    Levin nodded but didn’t say anything. After a few moments I continued.
    “I’m not sure what to think yet,” I said. “Whatever happened in that apartment happened quick. That’s a break for us. No actual rape, no DNA. That gives us a glimmer of hope.”
    “It sort of reminds me of Jesus Menendez, only without DNA. Remember him?”
    “Yeah, but I don’t want to.”
    I tried not to think about clients who were in prison without appellate hopes or anything else left but years of time in front of them to nut out. I do what I can with each case but sometimes there is nothing that can be done. Jesus Menendez’s case was one of those.
    “How’s your time on this?” I asked, putting us back on course.
    “I’ve got a few things but I can move them around.”
    “You are going to have to work nights on this. I need you to go into those bars. I want to know everything about him and everything about her. This case looks simple at this point. We knock her down and we knock the case down.”
    Levin nodded. He had his briefcase on his lap.
    “You got your camera in there?”
    “Always.”
    “When we get to the house take some pictures of Roulet. I don’t want you showing his mug shot in the bars. It’ll taint things. Can you get a picture of the woman without her face being all messed up?”
    “I got her driver’s license photo. It’s recent.”
    “Good. Run them down. If we find a witness who saw her come over to him at the bar in Morgan’s last night, then we’re gold.”
    “That’s where I was thinking I’d start. Give me a week or so. I’ll come back to you before the arraignment.”
    I nodded. We drove in silence for a few minutes, thinking about the case. We were moving through the flats of Beverly Hills, heading up into the neighborhoods where the real money was hidden and waiting.
    “And you know what else I think?” I said. “Money and everything aside, I think there’s a chance he isn’t lying. His story is just quirky enough to be true.”
    Levin whistled softly between his teeth.
    “You think you might have found the innocent man?” he said.
    “That would be a first,” I said. “If I had only known it this morning, I would have charged him the innocent man premium. If you’re innocent you pay more because you’re a hell of a lot more trouble to defend.”
    “Ain’t that the truth.”
    I thought about the idea of having an innocent client and the dangers involved.
    “You know what my father said about innocent clients?”
    “I thought your father died when you were like six years old.”
    “Five, actually. They didn’t even take me to the funeral.”
    “And he was talking to you about innocent clients when you were five?”
    “No, I read it in a book long after he was gone. He said the scariest client a lawyer will ever have is an innocent client. Because if you fuck up and he goes to prison, it’ll scar you for life.”
    “He said it like that?”
    “Words to that effect. He said there is no in-between with an innocent client. No negotiation, no plea bargaining, no middle ground. There’s only one verdict. You have to put an NG up on the scoreboard. There’s no other verdict but not guilty.”
    Levin nodded thoughtfully.
    “The bottom line was my old man was a damn good lawyer and he didn’t like having innocent clients,” I said. “I’m not sure I do, either.”

Thursday, March 17

TEN
    T he first ad I ever put in the yellow pages said “Any Case, Anytime, Anywhere” but I changed it after a few years. Not because the bar objected to it, but because
I
objected to it. I got more particular. Los Angeles County is a wrinkled blanket that covers four thousand square