The Reversal

were filing into the box, many of them glancing over at the empty defense table.
    When everyone was in place, the judge went on the record and turned her chair directly to the jurors. In a subdued tone she addressed them.
    “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I must inform you that because of factors that are not fully clear to you but will soon become so, I have declared a mistrial in the case of California versus Jason Jessup. I do this with great regret because all of us here have invested a great deal of time and effort in these proceedings.”
    She paused and studied the confused faces in front of her.
    “No one likes to invest so much time without seeing the case through to a result. I am sorry for this. But I do thank you for your duty. You were all dependable and for the most part on time every day. I also watched you closely during the testimony and you were all attentive. The court cannot thank you enough. You are dismissed now from this courtroom and discharged from jury duty. You may all go home.”
    The jurors slowly filed back into the jury room, many taking a last look back at the courtroom. Once they were gone the judge turned back to me.
    “Mr. Haller, for what it’s worth, I thought you acquitted yourself quite well as a prosecutor. I am sorry it ended this way but you are welcome back to this court anytime and on either side of the aisle.”
    “Thank you, Judge. I appreciate that. I had a lot of help.”
    “Then I commend your whole team as well.”
    With that, the judge stood and left the bench. I sat there for a long time, listening to the gallery clear out behind me and thinking about what Breitman had said at the end. I wondered how and why such a good job in court had resulted in such a horrible thing happening in Clive Royce’s office.
    “Mr. Haller?”
    I turned, expecting it to be a reporter. But it was two uniformed police officers.
    “Detective Bosch sent us. We are here to take you and Ms. Gleason into protective custody.”
    “Only Ms. Gleason and she’s right here.”
    Sarah was waiting on the bench next to Deputy Solantz’s desk.
    “Sarah, these officers are going to take care of you until Jason Jessup is in custody or…”
    I didn’t need to finish. Sarah got up and walked over to us.
    “So there’s no more trial?” she asked.
    “Right. The judge declared a mistrial. That means if Jessup is caught, we would have to start over. With a new jury.”
    She nodded and looked a little dumbfounded. I had seen the look on the faces of many people who venture naively into the justice system. They leave the courthouse wondering what just happened. Sarah Gleason would be no different.
    “You should go with these men now, Sarah. We’ll be in touch as soon as we know what happens next.”
    She just nodded and they headed for the door.
    I waited a while, alone in the courtroom, and then headed out to the hallway myself. I saw several of the jurors being interviewed by the reporters. I could’ve watched but at the moment I wasn’t interested in what anybody had to say about the case. Not anymore.
    Kate Salters saw me and broke away from one of the clusters.
    “Mickey, can we talk now?”
    “I don’t feel like talking. Call me tomorrow.”
    “The story’s today, Mick.”
    “I don’t care.”
    I pushed by her in the direction of the elevators.
    “Where are you going?”
    I didn’t answer. I got to the elevators and jumped through the open doors of a waiting car. I moved into the rear corner and saw a woman standing by the panel. She asked me the same question as Salters.
    “Where are you going?”
    “Home,” I said.
    She pushed the button marked G and we went down.

Forty-two
    Thursday, April 8, 4:40 P.M .
    B osch was stationed with Wright in a borrowed office across the street from the Checkers Hotel. It was the command post, and although no one thought Jessup would be stupid enough to walk in the front door of the hotel, the position gave them a good view of the entire property as well as two of the other surveillance positions.
    “I don’t know,” Wright said, staring out the window. “This guy is smart, right?”
    “I guess so,” Bosch said.
    “Then I don’t see him making this move, you know? He’d have already been here if he was. He’s probably halfway to Mexico by now and we’re sitting here watching a hotel.”
    “Maybe.”
    “If I were him, I’d get down there and lie low. Try to spend as many days on the beach as I could before they found me