The Lincoln Lawyer

door of the courtroom. From behind I heard the clerk’s voice.
    “Mr. Haller? We’re about to start. The judge -”
    “One minute,” I called out without turning around.
    I held one finger up as well. I then pushed through the doors into the dimly lit vestibule designed as a buffer to keep hallway sounds from the courtroom. A set of double doors on the other side led to the hallway. I moved to the side and waited for Roulet to step into the small space.
    As soon as he came through the door I grabbed him and spun him into the wall. I held him pressed against it with both of my hands on his chest.
    “What the fuck do you think you are doing?”
    “Take it easy, Mick. I just thought we should know where we both -”
    “You son of a bitch. You killed Raul and all he was doing was working for you! He was trying to help you!”
    I wanted to bring my hands up to his neck and choke him out on the spot.
    “You’re right about one thing. I am a son of a bitch. But you are wrong about everything else, Mick. Levin wasn’t trying to help me. He was trying to bury me and he was getting too close. He got what he deserved for that.”
    I thought about Levin’s last message on my phone at home.
I’ve got Jesus’s ticket out of the Q.
Whatever it was that he had found, it had gotten him killed. And it had gotten him killed before he could deliver the information to me.
    “How did you do it? You’re confessing everything to me here, then I want to know how you did it. How’d you beat the GPS? Your bracelet showed you weren’t even near Glendale.”
    He smiled at me, like a boy with a toy he wasn’t going to share.
    “Let’s just say that is proprietary information and leave it at that. You never know, I may have to pull the old Houdini act again.”
    In his words I heard the threat and in his smile I saw the evil that Raul Levin had seen.
    “Don’t get any ideas, Mick,” he said. “As you probably know, I do have an insurance policy.”
    I pressed harder against him and leaned in closer.
    “Listen, you piece of shit. I want the gun back. You think you have this thing wired? You don’t have shit.
I’ve
got it wired. And you won’t make it through the week if I don’t get that gun back. You got that?”
    Roulet slowly reached up, grabbed my wrists and pulled my hands off his chest. He started straightening his shirt and tie.
    “Might I suggest an agreement,” he said calmly. “At the end of this trial I walk out of the courtroom a free man. I continue to maintain my freedom, and in exchange for this, the gun never falls into, shall we say, the wrong hands.”
    Meaning Lankford and Sobel.
    “Because I’d really hate to see that happen, Mick. A lot of people depend on you. A lot of clients. And you, of course, wouldn’t want to go where they are going.”
    I stepped back from him, using all my will not to raise my fists and attack. I settled for a voice that quietly seethed with all of my anger and hate.
    “I promise you,” I said, “if you fuck with me you will never be free of me. Are we clear on that?”
    Roulet started to smile. But before he could respond the door from the courtroom opened and Deputy Meehan, the bailiff, looked in.
    “The judge is on the bench,” he said sternly. “She wants you in here. Now.”
    I looked back at Roulet.
    “I said, are we clear?”
    “Yes, Mick,” he said good-naturedly. “We’re crystal clear.”
    I stepped away from him and entered the courtroom, striding up the aisle to the gate. Judge Constance Fullbright was staring me down every step of the way.
    “So nice of you to consider joining us this morning, Mr. Haller.”
    Where had I heard that before?
    “I am sorry, Your Honor,” I said as I came through the gate. “I had an emergency situation with my client. We had to conference.”
    “Client conferences can be handled right at the defense table,” she responded.
    “Yes, Your Honor.”
    “I don’t think we are starting off correctly here, Mr. Haller. When my clerk announces that we will be in session in two minutes, then I expect everyone-including defense attorneys and their clients-to be in place and ready to go.”
    “I apologize, Your Honor.”
    “That’s not good enough, Mr. Haller. Before the end of court today I want you to pay a visit to my clerk with your checkbook. I am fining you five hundred dollars for contempt of court. You are not in charge of this courtroom, sir. I am.”
    “Your Honor -”
    “Now, can we please have the