I nodded. “Crime pays.”
“Oh. There’s Jonathan.”
Green was near the fireplace, talking with a couple of men in dark suits and a together-looking woman in her late fifties. One of the men was tall and thin, with little round spectacles and a great forehead and bulging Adam’s apple. Intense. As we approached, he said, “LAPD has an entrenched white male racist attitude that is impervious to change. I’m telling you that the time is right to simply abolish them.”
The together woman said, “That’s a non-issue, Willis. Angela Rossi is a white female.”
Willis jabbed the air. Agitated. “And as such must subjugate herself to the dominant white male racist attitudes that surround her. Don’t you see that?”
The together woman said, “But LAPD is over fifty percent women and minority now, and the percentage is increasing.”
Willis’s eyes bulged. “But is it increasing fast enough to save us? My God, we’re living in a virtual police state! If it could happen to Teddy, it could happen to any of us!”
Jonathan saw me and offered his hand, looking not altogether unhappy to shut Willis off. “Everyone, I’d like to introduce Elvis Cole, an integral member of the team.”
Willis’s eyes lit up and he grabbed my hand. “Great to meet you. You’re the one who nailed that fascist bitch.”
The together woman drew a deep breath and Lucy said, “Please don’t refer to any women by that word in my presence.” She said it politely.
Willis stepped back and held up his hands. “Oh, hey, I apologize. Really. But these cops have just gone over the line, and I’m so frustrated.”
The together woman said, “You’re such a hog.”
Jonathan introduced us. The woman was Tracy Mannos, the station manager from Channel Eight. Willis was a writer for a local alternative weekly, the L. A. Freak.
When Green was finished introducing me, I introduced Lucy. She said, “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Green.”
He smiled warmly and took her hand. “Please call me Jonathan. I understand that you’re an attorney.”
She nodded. “I practice civil law, but your cases have been inspirational. Especially the Williams case in nineteen seventy-two.” He was still holding her hand.
“That’s a lovely accent. Where are you from?” He patted her hand.
“Louisiana.”
“Well, perhaps we’ll have the pleasure of working together some time.”
He patted her hand again, and I said, “Jonathan, I’d like to see you.”
As I said it, Kerris appeared behind Jonathan and whispered something. Jonathan stared at me as Kerris spoke, and then Jonathan nodded at me. “I have to see the others for a moment. Why don’t you come along?”
I left Lucy with Tracy Mannos and followed Jonathan through his house to an office that was the size of my living room. Elliot Truly was there, along with the larger of the lesser attorneys and two men who looked vaguely familiar. One of them was tall and hard and African-American. When Kerris closed the door, I said, “Jonathan, I saw the statement you made this afternoon. What’s going on with Louise Earle?”
Jonathan spread his hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean.”
“She’s changed her story. She didn’t implicate Rossi when I talked to her.”
Kerris said, “Guess you got it wrong.” He had drifted to the wall behind Jonathan so he could lean. Every time I saw him he was leaning. Guess it wore the guy out carrying all those shoulders and arms.
“I cleared Rossi, and now you’re attacking her. You made it sound like I’m behind it.”
No one said anything for a moment, and then Jonathan spread his hands. “Angela Rossi found the murder weapon when she went down the slope to Susan’s body. She hid it on her person, then planted it on Teddy’s property in order to frame him for Susan’s murder. She was hoping that if she was credited with solving such a high-profile case, her career would be resuscitated.” He smiled at me. “It’s as simple as that.”
I looked at Truly and Kerris and the two other guys. “That’s nuts.”
Kerris crossed his arms. He was so wide that maybe he was twins who didn’t quite separate. “What’s your problem? Everyone thinks you’re a hero.”
I stared at him. “What’s going on?”
Jonathan shook his head.
“How’d you get Mrs. Earle to change her story?”
Jonathan smiled the way you smile when you’re incredulous. “Excuse me. Are you accusing me of tampering with evidence?”
Kerris said, “Good thing for us that I double-checked your work. Here everyone thinks that you’re some kind of top-dog investigator, and the truth is you suck.”
Jonathan frowned. “Please, Stan. There’s no need to be insulting.”
Kerris kept the empty eyes my way. “He sucks. I’m with the woman five minutes and she breaks down, telling me she’s terrified, telling me she’s wanted someone to help her for damn near six years because those cops framed her son, then threatened her into keeping her mouth shut.”
Everyone was so still that they might have been a fresco. Elliot Truly had a kind of idiot half-grin. He glanced away when I looked at him. I said, “James Lester is a fraud.”
Truly was shaking his head before I finished. “That’s not true. I should’ve said something about him when you mentioned Langolier at the jail, but I didn’t know how Jonathan wanted to handle it.”
Jonathan glared at him.
I took the fax from my pocket and tossed it at Jonathan. “James Lester is an alias. James Lester is a convicted felon named Stuart Langolier. Truly knew him.”
Jonathan didn’t touch the fax. “This is my fault. You’re used to working on small cases and this is a large case, and I should’ve briefed you on our meetings. Then you wouldn’t think we’re keeping things from you.”
Truly shrugged and looked apologetic. “Look, I didn’t realize that Lester was Langolier until I saw his picture in the paper, okay? As soon as I knew I notified Jonathan. We called the district attorney’s office and filed a brief about it this afternoon.”
Kerris said, “There’s a reason they call it ‘coincidence.’ ”
I said, “No secrets?”
Jonathan shook his head. “I’m sorry that I’ve left you out of the loop. An effort like this is such a large undertaking.”
“Like the Gulf War.”
“That’s right. There are no secrets here.”
I said, “What about the lies here? You knew Pritzik and Richards were dead when you attacked the police this morning.”
Jonathan frowned as if I were a child he had once thought backward but now stubborn. “I’m disappointed, Elvis. Clearly, you don’t understand a team effort, or my obligations as a defense attorney.”
Truly shook his head. “What a spoilsport. This case has made you a celebrity.”
I said, “Spoilsport?”
Kerris said, “How about ‘prick’?”
I looked at him, and Kerris shifted away from the wall. Jonathan said, “No, Stan.”
I smiled at him. “Kerris, anytime you want to go for it, I’m available.”
Jonathan said, “No, Stan.”
Kerris settled against the wall again, and still the empty eyes did not move. The black guy was grinning at me. So was the other idiot.
I looked back at Jonathan Green. “You’re right, Jonathan. I don’t appreciate it. I quit.”
Jonathan said, “I’m sorry to hear that, but under the circumstances I understand.”
Kerris said, “You want I should walk him out?”
I said, “Kerris, if you walk me out you won’t make it to the door.”
Kerris said, “Oo.”
I walked out of the office and slammed the door and stood in the crowded living room until my pulse slowed and my ears stopped ringing. The room was so crowded and so noisy that no one heard the door slam. Foiled again. I wandered around for twenty minutes before I found Lucy and Tracy Mannos talking by the pool. Willi
s and the other guy were nowhere in sight. Just as well for Willis. I said, “Excuse me.” My face felt tight, and obvious. “Luce, could I see you please?”
Tracy Mannos handed Lucy a card. “It’s been fun, Ms. Chenier. Call me when you get the chance.”
Lucy smiled at her, then Tracy Mannos walked away. Lucy said, “Interesting woman.”
“I’m glad you’re having a good time.”
She looked at me. “What’s wrong?”
“I am no longer a member of the Big Green Defense Machine. It would probably be appropriate for us to leave.”
Lucy stared at me. “What happened?”
“I quit.”
We got the car from the valets and found our way back to Coldwater and climbed the mountain to Mulholland. “I’m sorry that we have to leave this way. I know you were excited about meeting Jonathan.”
“I don’t care about Jonathan. Are you all right?”
I told her about Truly and Lester. I told her again about Mrs. Earle, and about Jonathan making the misleading statement about Pritzik and Richards. I said, “I don’t get it. The guy’s Jonathan Green. He’s an All-World attorney. What does he think he’s doing, behaving in this manner?”
She looked at me. “He probably thinks he’s doing his job.”
I shook my head.
“It’s his job to attack the prosecution’s case. That’s how he creates reasonable doubt.”
“Is it his job to lie?”
“No, but you’re assuming it’s a lie. Reasonable people can disagree and have opposing interpretations of the facts. It’s Jonathan’s job to present an interpretation that’s favorable to his client. It would be malpractice for him to do otherwise.” When she said it she was stiff and testy, and it felt like we were having a confrontation.
I said, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Are you mad that we had to leave the party?”
“Why are you staying with this? I told you that nothing is wrong.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
I turned on k. d. lang. k. d. sang, but I’m not sure either Lucy or I listened. Neither of us spoke.
Peter Alan Nelsen’s black Range Rover was parked off the road across from my house, waiting. I said, “Looks like they’re home.”
Lucy still didn’t speak.
We parked and went inside. Peter and Ben were on the couch watching a laser disc of When Worlds Collide. The house smelled of popcorn. Peter yelled, “Hide the babes, Ben! It’s the police!” Peter always yells things like that.
Ben said, “Hi, Mom. You shoulda seen the neat stuff on Peter’s set!”
“You can tell me in the morning, sweetie.”
Lucy walked across the living room and into the guest room and shut the door. Ben and Peter looked at me. I said, “I guess she’s tired.”
Peter said, “Oh, yeah. Looks that way to me.”
I frowned at him, and then I stalked up to the loft.
Another fun evening in Tinsel City.
20
Sometime before sunrise the cat’s door made its sound, then, a few minutes later, made its sound again. Come and gone.
When the eastern sky was lit gold and the great glass steeple opposite my loft was filled with copper I pulled on gym shorts and slipped down the stairs. The door to the guest room was closed. I went out onto the deck and breathed the cool morning air and did twelve sun salutes from the hatha yoga as the finches and the sparrows and two mockingbirds watched. The canyon was still and quiet and just beginning to fill with light. I did one hundred push-ups and one hundred sit-ups, enjoying the rhythm of the count and the feeling of accomplishment that came with the exertion and the sweat.
The cat climbed onto the deck and watched me from the corner of the house. He didn’t look happy.
I worked through the stronger asanas, starting with the half locust, then the full, and then the scorpion and the peacock. The air warmed and the sweat began to flow more freely, and then I saw Ben standing in the glass doors, his face thoughtful. I said, “You’re up early.”
He nodded. Upset about last night, maybe.
“Come on out.”
Ben came out. He was wearing baggy pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt. When he came out the cat lowered his ears and growled. Ben said, “He doesn’t like me.”
“It’s not you. He doesn’t like anyone.”
“He likes you.”
I nodded. “Yeah. He likes me and Joe, pretty much, but he doesn’t care for other people. I’ve never known why.”
The low gutter of his growl spiraled up into his war cry and I grew worried he might charge. I’d seen him charge, and it wasn’t pretty. I said, “Knock it off.” Loud.
The growling stopped.
“That’s better.”
His ears stayed down, but at least he didn’t leave.
Ben crossed the deck to the rail, keeping one eye on the cat, and looked out at the canyon. He put his weight on the rail, then leaned out. He said, “Hawks.”
Two red-tailed hawks were gliding low over the canyon. “They’re red-tails. They nest up the canyon.”
He bounced on the rail. “I think I heard coyotes last night. Was that coyotes?”
“Yep. A family lives by the reservoir.”
He bounced faster, then edged along the rail and bounced more. Nervous. I guess he hadn’t come out just to look at the hawks. “Your mom and I are going to work things out, Ben. It’s okay.”
The bouncing stopped and he gave me the same eyes that he’d given me when we’d first met, eight-going-on-nine and taking care of his mom. “She was crying.”
I drew a deep breath. I squinted at the canyon, then looked back at him. “Is she crying now?”
He shook his head. “I think she’s sleeping.”
“She’s upset about something, but I’m not sure what.”
The bouncing was over, but he still looked uncomfortable.
“She say anything?”
He looked down at the deck, and seemed even more uncomfortable.
“She seemed okay until Darlene called.” I watched him. “After Darlene, she seemed kind of upset.”
Ben looked at the cat. The cat’s ears were up now, and he seemed calm. Ben said, “She’s fighting with my dad.” Fighting.
“Ah.”
“My dad didn’t want us staying here. He said we should be in a hotel.”
“I see.” The hawks reappeared, higher now, following the air back toward their nest. The female had something in her talons. “Are you okay with this, Ben?”
He shrugged without looking at me.
I went to the rail and leaned next to him. “It’s tough when your parents are fighting. You get caught in the middle and no matter what you do, you always feel like you’re letting one of them down.”
Ben said, “She really likes you.”
“I really like her. I like you, too. I’m glad you guys are here.”
He didn’t seem moved by that, but there you go.
I took a breath and went to the center of the deck and worked through a simple kata from the tae kwon do called the Crane. You do a lot of bending and your arms pinwheel a lot and you spin, but it isn’t difficult. Ben watched me. I did the Crane slowly, moving from one end of the deck to the other, and taking great care in my movements, sort of like with the tai chi. When I reached the end of the deck, I turned and did it again, back to the other side, only much faster, moving at three-quarter speed. Ben said, “What’s that?”
“Ballet.”
Ben grinned. “Nunh-unh.” He stopped leaning over the rail and crossed his arms. “Is that karate?”
“Korean karate. It’s called tae kwon do.” I went through it again. Left to right, right to left.
He said, “They do that on Power Rangers. They beat up monsters.”
“Well, it’s a fighting skill, but only if you look at it that way. That’s a choice you make. You could also choose to look at it as a way to make
yourself stronger and more flexible and healthy. It’s also fun.” I did it again and watched him watch me. “Want me to show you how?”
He came over and I showed him. I modeled the postures and adjusted his position and walked him through the moves. “Don’t try to hurry. Slow is better.”
“Okay.”
We did the Crane. After the Crane I showed him the Tiger. Ben took off his T-shirt and tossed it aside. Sweating. We worked through the katas together as the sun floated up from the eastern ridge and the air warmed, and then I saw Lucy watching us from the door. I smiled. “Morning.”
“Hi.”
Ben said, “Look at this, Mom! This is called the Crane. It’s a tae kwon do kata. Watch.”
Ben worked his way through, and as he did, Lucy put her hand to the glass, fingers spread, and I put my hand to hers. She said, “Joe’s on the phone.”
Ben said, “Mom, you’re not watching!”
I went in and found the phone on the counter. “Now what?”
Pike said, “Put on Channel Five.”
I put it on and went back to the phone. The morning anchor was recapping yesterday’s report on Green’s accusations, and again ran the clip where Green made it look like I had been the one who turned up Mrs. LeCedrick Earle. I said, “We quit last night. We’re no longer working for the Big Green Defense Machine.”
Pike grunted. “Keep watching.”
The anchor said that LAPD had announced a full investigation into Angela Rossi. The anchor said that Rossi had been suspended pending the outcome. I felt a drop-away feeling in my stomach and said, “Oh, man.”