THE LINCOLN LAWYER (2005)

by Michael Connelly

  After twenty minutes two detectives came from the back of the house and into the living room. I stood up and we talked while standing. The man identified himself as Lankford, the detective who had called me. He was older, the veteran. His partner was a woman named Sobel. She didn't look like she had been investigating homicides for very long.

  We didn't shake hands. They were wearing rubber gloves. They also had paper booties over their shoes. Lankford was chewing gum.

  "Okay, this is what we've got," he said gruffly. "Levin was in his office, sitting in his desk chair. The chair was turned from the desk, so he was facing the intruder. He was shot one time in the chest. Something small, looks like a twenty-two to me but we'll wait on the coroner for that."

  Lankford tapped his chest dead center. I could hear the hard sound of a bullet-proof vest beneath his shirt.

  I corrected him. He had pronounced the name here and on the phone earlier as Levine. I said the name rhymed with heaven.

  "Levin, then," he said, getting it right. "Anyway, after the shot, he tried to get up or just fell forward to the floor. He expired facedown on the floor. The intruder ransacked the office and we are currently at a loss to determine what he was looking for or what he might have taken."

  "Who found him?" I asked.

  "A neighbor who found his dog running loose. The intruder must have let the dog out before or after the killing. The neighbor found it wandering around, recognized it and brought it back. She found the front door open, came in and found the body. It didn't look like much of a watchdog, you ask me. It's one of those little hair balls."

  "A shih tzu," I said.

  I had seen the dog before and heard Levin talk about it, but I couldn't remember its name. It was something like Rex or Bronco-a name that belied the dog's small stature.

  Sobel referred to a notebook she was holding before continuing the questioning.

  "We haven't found anything that can lead us to next of kin," she said. "Do you know if he had any family?"

  "I think his mother lives back east. He was born in Detroit. Maybe she's there. I don't think they had much of a relationship."

  She nodded.

  "We have found his time and hours calendar. He's got your name on almost every day for the last month. Was he working on a specific case for you?"

  I nodded.

  "A couple different cases. One mostly."

  "Do you care to tell us about it?" she asked.

  "I have a case about to go to trial. Next month. It's an attempted rape and murder. He was running down the evidence and helping me to get ready."

  "You mean helping you try to backdoor the investigation, huh?" Lankford said.

  I realized then that Lankford's politeness on the phone was merely sweet talk to get me to come to the house. He would be different now. He even seemed to be chewing his gum more aggressively than when he had first entered the room.

  "Whatever you want to call it, Detective. Everybody is entitled to a defense."

  "Yeah, sure, and they're all innocent, only it's their parents' fault for taking them off the tit too soon," Lankford said. "Whatever. This guy Levin was a cop before, right?"

  He was back to mispronouncing the name.

  "Yes, he was LAPD. He was a detective on a Crimes Against Persons squad but he retired after twelve years on the force. I think it was twelve years. You'll have to check. And it's Levin."

  "Right, as in heaven. I guess he couldn't hack working for the good guys, huh?"

  "Depends on how you look at it, I guess."

  "Can we get back to your case?" Sobel asked. "What is the name of the defendant?"

  "Louis Ross Roulet. The trial's in Van Nuys Superior before Judge Fullbright."

  "Is he in custody?"

  "No, he's out on a bond."

  "Any animosity between Roulet and Mr. Levin?"

  "Not that I know of."

  I had decided. I was going to deal with Roulet in the way I knew how. I was sticking with the plan I had concocted-with the help of Raul Levin. Drop a depth charge into the case and make sure to get clear. I felt I owed it to my friend Mish. He would have wanted it this way. I wouldn't farm it out. I would handle it personally.

  "Could this have been a gay thing?" Lankford asked.

  "What? Why do you say that?"

  "Prissy dog and then all around the house, he's only got pictures of guys and the dog. Everywhere. On the walls, next to the bed, on the piano."

  "Look closely, Detective. It is probably one guy. His partner died a few years ago. I don't think he's been with anybody since then."

  "Died of AIDS, I bet."

  I didn't confirm that for him. I just waited. On the one hand, I was annoyed with Lankford's manner. On the other hand, I figured that his torch-the-ground method of investigation would preclude him from being able to tag Roulet with this. That was fine with me. I only needed to stall him for five or six weeks and then I wouldn't care if they put it together or not. I'd be finished with my own play by then.

  "Did this guy go out patrolling the gay joints?" Lankford asked.

  I shrugged.

  "I have no idea. But if it was a gay murder, why was his office ransacked and not the rest of the house?"

  Lankford nodded. He seemed to be momentarily taken aback by the logic of my question. But then he hit me with a surprise punch.

  "So where were you this morning, Counselor?"

  "What?"

  "It's just routine. The scene indicates the victim knew his killer. He let the shooter right into the back room. As I said before, he was probably sitting in his desk chair when he took the bullet. Looks to me like he was quite comfortable with his killer. We are going to have to clear all acquaintances, professional and social."

  "Are you saying I'm a suspect in this?"

  "No, I'm just trying to clear things up and tighten the focus."

  "I was home all morning. I was getting ready to meet Raul at Dodger Stadium. I left for the stadium about twelve and that's where I was when you called."

  "What about before that?"

  "Like I said, I was home. I was alone. But I got a phone call about eleven that will put me in my house and I'm at least a half hour from here. If he was killed after eleven, then I'm clear."

  Lankford didn't rise to the bait. He didn't give me the time of death. Maybe it was unknown at the moment.

  "When was the last time you spoke to him?" he asked instead.

  "Last night by telephone."

  "Who called who and why?"

  "He called me and asked if I could get to the game early. I said I could."

  "How come?"

  "He likes to-he liked to watch batting practice. He said we could jaw over the Roulet case a little bit. Nothing specific but he hadn't updated me in about a week."

  "Thank you for your cooperation," Lankford said, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

  "You realize that I just did what I tell every client and anybody who will listen not to do? I talked to you without a lawyer present, gave you my alibi. I must be out of my mind."

  "I said thank you."

  Sobel spoke up.

  "Is there anything else you can tell us, Mr. Haller? About Mr. Levin or his work."

  "Yeah, there is one other thing. Something you should probably check out. But I want to remain confidential on it."

  I looked past them at the uniformed officer still standing in the hallway. Sobel followed my eyes and understood I wanted privacy.

  "Officer, you can wait out front, please," she said.

  The officer left, looking annoyed, probably because he had been dismissed by a woman.

  "Okay," Lankford said. "What have you got?"

  "I'll have to look up the exact dates but a few weeks ago, back in March, Raul did some work for me on another case that involved one of my clients snitching off a drug dealer. He made some calls, helped ID the guy. I heard afterward that the guy was a Colombian and he was pretty well connected. He could have had friends who . . ."

&
nbsp; I left it for them to fill in the blanks.

  "I don't know," Lankford said. "This was pretty clean. Doesn't look like a revenge deal. They didn't cut his throat or take his tongue. One shot, plus they ransacked the office. What would the dealer's people be looking for?"

  I shook my head.

  "Maybe my client's name. The deal I made kept it out of circulation."

  Lankford nodded thoughtfully.

  "What is the client's name?"

  "I can't tell you. Attorney-client privilege."

  "Okay, here we go with that bullshit. How are we going to investigate this if we don't even know your client's name? Don't you care about your friend in there on the floor with a piece of lead in his heart?"

  "Yes, I care. I'm obviously the only one here who does care. But I am also bound by the rules and ethics of law."

  "Your client could be in danger."

  "My client is safe. My client is in lockdown."

  "It's a woman, isn't it?" Sobel said. "You keep saying 'client' instead of he or she."

  "I'm not talking to you about my client. If you want the name of the dealer, it's Hector Arrande Moya. He's in federal custody. I believe the originating charge came out of a DEA case in San Diego. That's all I can tell you."

  Sobel wrote it all down. I believed I had now given them sufficient reason to look beyond Roulet and the gay angle.

  "Mr. Haller, have you ever been in Mr. Levin's office before?" Sobel asked.

  "A few times. Not in a couple months, at least."

  "Do you mind walking back with us anyway? Maybe you'll see something out of place or notice something that's missing."

  "Is he still back there?"

  "The victim? Yes, he's still as he was found."

  I nodded. I wasn't sure I wanted to see Raul Levin's body in the center of a murder scene. I then decided all at once that I must see him and I must not forget the vision. I would need it to fuel my resolve and my plan.

  "Okay, I'll go back."

  "Then put these on and don't touch anything while you're back there," Lankford said. "We're still processing the scene."

  From his pocket he produced a folded pair of paper booties. I sat down on Raul's couch and put them on. Then I followed them down the hallway to the death room.

  Raul Levin's body was in situ-as they had found it. He was chest-down on the floor, his face turned to his right, his mouth and eyes open. His body was in an awkward posture, one hip higher than the other and his arms and hands beneath him. It seemed clear that he had fallen from the desk chair that was behind him.

  I immediately regretted my decision to come into the room. I suddenly knew that the final look on Raul's face would crowd out all other visual memories I had of him. I would be forced to try to forget him, so I would not have to look at those eyes in my mind again.

  It was the same with my father. My only visual memory was of a man in a bed. He was a hundred pounds tops and was being ravaged from the inside out by cancer. All the other visuals I carried of him were false. They came from pictures in books I had read.

  There were a number of people working in the room. Crime scene investigators and people from the medical examiner's office. My face must have shown the horror I was feeling.

  "You know why we can't cover him up?" Lankford asked me. "Because of people like you. Because of O.J. It's what they callevidence transference . Something you lawyers like to jump all over on. So no sheets over the body anymore. Not till we move it out of here."

  I didn't say anything. I just nodded. He was right.

  "Can you step over here to the desk and tell us if you see anything unusual?" Sobel asked, apparently having some sympathy for me.

  I was thankful to do it because I could keep my back to the body. I walked over to the desk, which was a conjoining of three worktables forming a turn in the corner of the room. It was furniture I recognized had come from the IKEA store in nearby Burbank. It was nothing fancy. It was simple and useful. The center table in the corner had a computer on top and a pull-out tray for a keyboard. The tables to either side looked like twin work spaces and possibly were used by Levin to keep separate investigations from mingling.

  My eyes lingered on the computer as I wondered what Levin may have put on electronic files about Roulet. Sobel noticed.

  "We don't have a computer expert," she said. "Too small a department. We've got a guy coming from the sheriff's office but it looks to me like the whole drive was pulled out."

  She pointed with her pen under the table to where the PC unit was sitting upright but with one side of its plastic cowling having been removed and placed to the rear.

  "Probably won't be anything there for us," she said. "What about the desks?"

  My eyes moved over the table to the left of the computer first. Papers and files were spread across it in a haphazard way. I looked at some of the tabs and recognized the names.

  "Some of these are my clients but they're old cases. Not active."

  "They probably came from the file cabinets in the closet," Sobel said. "The killer could have dumped them here to confuse us. To hide what he was really looking for or taking. What about over here?"

  We stepped over to the table to the right of the computer. This one was not in as much disarray. There was a calendar blotter on which it was clear Levin kept a running account of his hours and which attorney he was working for at the time. I scanned the blocks and saw my name numerous times going back five weeks. It was as they had told me, he had practically been working full-time for me.

  "I don't know," I said. "I don't know what to look for. I don't see anything that could help."

  "Well, most attorneys aren't that helpful," Lankford said from behind me.

  I didn't bother to turn around to defend myself. He was by the body and I didn't want to see what he was doing. I reached out to turn the Rolodex that was on the table just so I could look through the names on the cards.

  "Don't touch that!" Sobel said instantly.

  I jerked my hand back.

  "Sorry. I was just going to look through the names. I don't . . ."

  I didn't finish. I was at sea here. I wanted to leave and get something to drink. I felt like the Dodger dog that had tasted so good back at the stadium was about to come up.

  "Hey, check it out," Lankford said.

  I turned with Sobel and saw that the medical examiner's people were slowly turning Levin's body over. Blood had stained the front of the Dodgers shirt he was wearing. But Lankford was pointing to the dead man's hands, which had not been visible beneath the body before. The two middle fingers of his left hand were folded down against the palm while the two outside fingers were fully extended.

  "Was this guy a Texas Longhorns fan or what?" Lankford asked.

  Nobody laughed.

  "What do you think?" Sobel said to me.

  I stared down at my friend's last gesture and just shook my head.

  "Oh, I got it," Lankford said. "It's like a signal. A code. He's telling us that the devil did it."

  I thought of Raul calling Roulet the devil, of having the proof that he was evil. And I knew what my friend's last message to me meant. As he died on the floor of his office, he tried to tell me. Tried to warn me.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Iwent to Four Green Fields and ordered a Guinness but quickly escalated to vodka over ice. I didn't think there was any sense in delaying things. The Dodgers game was finishing up on the TV over the bar. The boys in blue were rallying, down now by just two with the bases loaded in the ninth. The bartender had his eyes glued to the screen but I didn't care anymore about the start of new seasons. I didn't care about ninth-inning rallies.

  After the second vodka assault, I brought the cell phone up onto the bar and started making calls. First I called the four other lawyers from the game. We had all left when I had gotten the word but they went home only knowing that Levin was dead, none of the details. Then I called Lorna and she cried on the phone. I talked her through it for a little whi
le and then she asked the question I was hoping to avoid.

  "Is this because of your case? Because of Roulet?"

  "I don't know," I lied. "I told the cops about it but they seemed more interested in him being gay than anything else."

  "He was gay?"