I walked to the corner by the glass wall and looked back into the room. I raised the camera and took a few shots from different angles. Nina walked into the shot a couple times but it didn’t matter. The photos weren’t for court. I would use them to refresh my memory of the place while I was working out the trial strategy.
A murder scene is a map. If you know how to read it, you can sometimes find your way. The lay of the land, the repose of victims in death, the angle of views and light and blood. The spatial restrictions and geometric differentiations were all elements of the map. You can’t always get all of that from a police photo. Sometimes you have to see it for yourself. This is why I had come to the house in Malibu. For the map. For the geography of murder. When I understood it, I would be ready to go to trial.
From the corner, I looked at the square cut out of the white carpet near the bedroom door. This is where the male victim, Johan Rilz, had been shot down. My eyes traveled to the bed, where Mitzi Elliot had been shot, her naked body sprawled diagonally across it.
The investigative summary in the file suggested that the naked couple had heard an intruder in the house. Rilz went to the bedroom door and opened it, only to be immediately surprised by the killer. Rilz was shot down in the doorway and the killer stepped over his body and into the room.
Mitzi Elliot jumped up from the bed and stood frozen by its side, clutching a pillow in front of her naked body. The state believed that the elements of the crime suggested that she knew her killer. She might have pleaded for her life or might have known her death could not be stopped. She was shot twice through the pillow from a distance estimated at three feet and knocked back onto the bed. The pillow she had used as a shield fell to the floor. The killer then stepped forward to the bed and pressed the barrel of the gun against her forehead for the kill shot.
That was the official version anyway. Standing there in the corner of the room, I knew there were enough unfounded assumptions built into it that I would have no trouble slicing and dicing it at trial.
I looked at the glass doors that led out to a deck overlooking the Pacific. There had been nothing in the files about whether the curtain and doors had been open at the time of the murders. I was not sure it meant anything one way or the other but it was a detail I would’ve liked to know.
I walked over to the glass doors and found them locked. I had a hard time figuring out how to open them. Nina finally came over and helped me, holding her finger down on a safety lever while turning the bolt with her other hand. The doors opened outward and brought in the sounds of the crashing surf.
I immediately knew that if the doors had been open at the time of the murders, then the sound of the surf could have easily drowned out any noise an intruder might have made in the house. This would contradict the state’s theory that Rilz was killed at the bedroom door because he had gone to the door after hearing an intruder. It would then raise a new question about what Rilz was doing naked at the door, but that didn’t matter to the defense. I only needed to raise questions and point out discrepancies to plant the seed of doubt in a juror’s mind. It took only one doubt in one juror’s mind for me to be successful. It was the distort-or-destroy method of criminal defense.
I stepped out onto the deck. I didn’t know if it was high or low tide but suspected it was somewhere in between. The water was close. The waves were coming in and washing right up to the piers on which the house was built.
There were six-foot swells but no surfers out there. I remembered what Patrick had said about attempting to surf in the cove.
I walked back inside, and as soon as I reentered the bedroom, I realized my phone was ringing but I had been unable to hear it because of the ocean noise. I checked to see who it was but it said PRIVATE CALLER on the screen. I knew that most people in law enforcement blocked their ID.
“Nina, I have to take this. Do you mind going out to my car and asking my driver to come in?”
“No problem.”
“Thank you.”
I took the call.
“Hello?”
“It’s me. I’m just checking to see when you’re coming by.”
“Me” was my first ex-wife, Maggie McPherson. Under the recently revamped custody agreement, I got to be with my daughter on Wednesday nights and every other weekend only. It was a long way from the shared custody we’d once had. But I had blown that along with the second chance I’d had with Maggie.
“Probably around seven thirty. I have a meeting with a client this afternoon and it might run a little late.”
There was silence and I sensed I had given the wrong answer.
“What, you’ve got a date?” I asked. “What time you want me there?”
“I’m supposed to leave at seven thirty.”
“Then, I’ll be there before that. Who’s the lucky guy?”
“That wouldn’t be any of your business. But speaking of lucky, I heard you got Jerry Vincent’s whole practice.”
Nina Albrecht and Patrick Henson entered the bedroom. I saw Patrick looking at the missing square in the carpet. I covered the phone and asked them to go back downstairs and wait for me. I then went back to the phone conversation. My ex-wife was a deputy district attorney assigned to the Van Nuys courthouse. This put her in a position to hear things about me.
“That’s right,” I said. “I’m his replacement, but I don’t know how lucky that makes me.”
“You should get a good ride on the Elliot case.”
“I’m standing in the murder house right now. Nice view.”
“Well, good luck in getting him off. If anyone can, it’s certainly you.”
She said it with a prosecutor’s sneer.
“I guess I won’t respond to that.”
“I know how you would anyway. One other thing. You’re not going to have company over tonight, are you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about two weeks ago. Hayley said a woman was there. I believe her name was Lanie? She felt very awkward about it.”
“Don’t worry, she won’t be there tonight. She’s just a friend and she used the guest room. But for the record, I can have anybody I want over at my house at any time because it’s my house, and you are free to do the same at your house.”
“And I’m also free to go to the judge and say you’re exposing our daughter to people who are drug addicts.”
I took a deep breath before responding as calmly as I could.
“How would you know who I am exposing Hayley to?”
“Because your daughter isn’t stupid and her hearing is perfect. She told me a little bit of what was said and it was quite easy to figure out that your . . . friend is from rehab.”
“And so that’s a crime, consorting with people from rehab?”
“It’s not a crime, Michael. I just don’t think it is best for Hayley to be exposed to a parade of addicts when she stays with you.”
“Now it’s a parade. I guess the one addict you’re most concerned with is me.”
“Well, if the shoe fits . . .”
I almost lost it but once again calmed myself by gulping down some of the fresh sea air. When I spoke I was calm. I knew that showing anger would only hurt me in the long run when it came time to readdress the custody arrangement.
“Maggie, this is our daughter we’re talking about here. Don’t hurt her by trying to hurt me. She needs her father and I need my daughter.”
“And that’s my point. You are doing well. Hooking up with an addict is not a good idea.”
I was squeezing my phone so hard I thought it might break. I could feel the scarlet burn of embarrassment on my cheeks and neck.
“I have to go.”
My words came out strangled by my own failures.
“And so do I. I’ll tell Hayley you’ll be there by seven thirty.”
She always did that, ended the call with inferences that I would disappoint my daughter if I was late or couldn’t make a scheduled pickup. She hung up b
efore I could respond.
The living room downstairs was empty but then I saw Patrick and Nina out on the lower deck. I stepped out and over to the railing where Patrick stood staring at the waves. I tried to put the upset from the conversation with my ex-wife out of my head.
“Patrick, you said you tried surfing here but the rip was too strong?”
“That’s right.”
“Are you talking about a riptide?”
“Yeah, it’s tough out here. The shape of the cove creates it. The energy of the waves coming in on the north side is redirected under the surface and sort of ricochets south. It follows the contour of the cove and carries it all the way down and then out. I got caught in that pipeline a couple times, man. It took me all the way out past those rocks at the south end.”
I studied the cove as he described what was happening beneath the surface. If he was right and there was a riptide on the day of the murders, then the sheriff’s divers had probably searched in the wrong place for the murder weapon.
And now it was too late. If the killer had thrown the gun into the surf, it could have been carried in the underwater pipeline completely out of the cove and out to sea. I began to feel confident that the murder weapon would not be making a surprise appearance at trial.
As far as my client was concerned, that was a good thing.
I stared out at the waves and thought about how beneath the beautiful surface a hidden power never stopped moving.
Nineteen
The writers had taken the day off or moved their picket line to another protest location. At Archway Studios we made it through the security checkpoint without any of the delay of the day before. It helped that Nina Albrecht was in the car in front of us and had smoothed the way.
It was late and the studio was emptying out for the day. Patrick was able to get a parking spot right in front of Elliot’s bungalow. Patrick was excited because he had never been inside the gates of a movie studio. I told him he was free to look around but to keep his phone handy because I was unsure how long the meeting with my client would last and I needed to stick to a schedule for picking up my daughter.
As I followed Nina in I asked her if there was a place for me to meet with Elliot other than his office. I said I had paperwork to spread out and that the table we had sat at the day before was too small. She said she would take me to the executive boardroom and I could set up there while she went to get her boss and bring him to the meeting. I said that would be fine. But the truth was I wasn’t going to spread documents out. I just wanted to meet with Elliot in a neutral spot. If I was sitting across from him at his worktable, he would have command of the meeting. That was made clear during our first encounter. Elliot was a forceful personality. But I needed to be the one in charge from here on out.
It was a big room with twelve black leather chairs around the polished oval table. There was an overhead projector and a long box on the far wall containing the drop-down screen. The other walls were hung with framed posters of the movies that had been made on the lot. I assumed that these were the films that had made the studio money.
I took a seat and pulled the case files out of my bag. Twenty-five minutes later I was looking through the state’s discovery documents when the door opened and Elliot finally walked in. I didn’t bother to get up or extend my hand. I tried to look annoyed as I pointed him to a chair across the table from me.
Nina trailed him into the room to see what she could get us for refreshment.
“Nothing, Nina,” I said before Elliot could respond. “We’re going to be fine and we need to get started. We’ll let you know if we need anything.”
She seemed momentarily taken aback by the issuance of orders from someone other than Elliot. She looked to him for clarification and he simply nodded. She left, closing the double doors behind her. Elliot sat down in the chair I had pointed him to.
I looked across the table at my client for a long moment before speaking.
“I can’t figure you out, Walter.”
“What do you mean? What’s to figure out?”
“Well, for starters, you spend a lot of time protesting your innocence. But I don’t think you are taking this that seriously.”
“You’re wrong about that.”
“Am I? You understand that if you lose this trial, you are going to prison? And there won’t be any bail on a double-murder conviction while you appeal. You get a bad verdict and they’ll cuff you in the courtroom and take you away.”
Elliot leaned a few inches toward me before responding again.
“I understand exactly the position I am in. So don’t dare tell me I am not taking it seriously.”
“Okay, then, when we set a meeting, let’s be on time for it. There is a lot of ground to cover and not a lot of time to cover it. I know you have a studio to run but that is no longer the priority. For the next two weeks you have one priority. This case.”
Now he looked at me for a long moment before responding. It may have been the first time in his life he had been chided for being late and then told what to do. Finally, he nodded.
“Fair enough,” he said.
I nodded back. Our positions were now understood. We were in his boardroom and on his studio lot, but I was the alpha dog now. His future depended on me.
“Good,” I said. “Now, the first thing I need to ask is whether we are speaking privately in here.”
“Of course we are.”
“Well, we weren’t yesterday. It was pretty clear that Nina’s got your office wired. That may be fine for your movie meetings but it’s not fine when we’re discussing your case. I’m your lawyer, and no one should hear our discussion. No one. Nina has no privilege. She could be subpoenaed to testify against you. In fact, it won’t surprise me if she ends up on the prosecution’s witness list.”
Elliot leaned back in his padded chair and raised his face toward the ceiling.
“Nina,” he said. “Mute the feed. If I need anything I will call you on the line.”
He looked at me and opened his hands. I nodded that I was satisfied.
“Thank you, Walter. Now let’s get to work.”
“I have a question first.”
“Sure.”
“Is this the meeting where I tell you I didn’t do it and then you tell me that it doesn’t matter to you whether I did it or not?”
I nodded.
“Whether you did it or not is irrelevant, Walter. It’s what the state can prove beyond a—”
“No!”
He slammed an open palm down on the table. It sounded like a shot. I was startled but hoped I didn’t show it.
“I am tired of that legal bullshit! That it doesn’t matter whether I did it, only what can be proved. It does matter! Don’t you see? It does matter. I need to be believed, goddamnit! I need you to believe me. I don’t care what the evidence is against me. I did NOT do this. Do you understand me? Do you believe me? If my own lawyer doesn’t believe me or care, then I don’t have a chance.”
I was sure Nina was going to come charging in to see if everything was all right. I leaned back in my padded chair and waited for her and to make sure Elliot was finished.
As expected, one of the doors opened and Nina was about to step in. But Elliot dismissed her with a wave of his hand and a harsh command not to bother us. The door closed again and he locked eyes with me. I held my hand up to stop him from speaking. It was my turn.
“Walter, there are two things I have to concern myself with,” I said calmly. “Whether I understand the state’s case and whether I can knock it down.”
I tapped a finger on the discovery file as I spoke.
“At the moment I do understand the state’s case. It’s straightforward prosecution one-oh-one. The state believes that they have motive and opportunity in spades.
“Let’s go with motive first. Your wife was having an affair and that made you angry. Not only that, but the prenuptial agreement she signed twelve years before had vested and the only way you
could get rid of her without splitting everything up was to kill her. Next is opportunity. They have the time your car left through the gate at Archway that morning. They’ve made the run and timed it again and again and say you could’ve easily been at the Malibu house at the time of the killings. That is opportunity.
“And what the state is counting on is motive and opportunity being enough to sway the jury and win the day, while the actual evidence against you is quite thin and very circumstantial. So my job is to figure out a way of making the jury understand that there is a lot of smoke here but no real fire. If I do that, then you walk away.”
“I still want to know if you believe I am innocent.”
I smiled and shook my head.
“Walter, I’m telling you, it doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me. One way or the other, I need to know.”
I relented and held my hands up in surrender.
“All right, then, I’ll tell you what I think, Walter. I have studied the file forwards and backwards. I’ve read everything in here at least twice and most of it three times. I have now been out to the beach house where this unfortunate event happened and studied the geography of these murders. I have done all of that and I can see the very real possibility that you are innocent of these charges. Does that mean that I believe that you are an innocent man? No, Walter, it doesn’t. I’m sorry but I have been doing this too long, and the reality is, I haven’t seen too many innocent clients. So the best I can tell you is that I don’t know. If that’s not good enough for you, then I am sure you will have no trouble finding a lawyer who will tell you exactly what you want to hear, whether he believes it or not.”
I rocked back in my chair while awaiting his response. He clasped his hands together on the table in front of him while he chewed on my words and then he finally nodded.
“Then, I guess that is the best I can ask for,” he said.
I tried to let out my breath without his noticing. I still had the case. For the moment.
“But you know what I do believe, Walter?”
The Lincoln Lawyer Collection Page 51
