The Gods of Guilt (Mickey Haller 5) (42 page)

I spotted Marco four rows back. He sat next to a man in a suit who I assumed was his lawyer. Marco hadn’t bothered to dress for the occasion. He was wearing a black golf shirt and jeans again, the shirt tucked in so the gun holstered on his right hip was fully on display. The gunslinger look.

I decided that I needed to try to do something about that.

I looked down and saw that Lankford had already viewed the silent video and returned it to the empty seat. He sat there in what appeared to be a daze, perhaps understanding that his life was unalterably going to change before the end of this day. I brought my other shoe up onto the chair to tie. I bent down again, my eyes on Marco in the gallery as I whispered to Lankford.

“I want Marco, not you.”

T
he judge took the bench as promised and briefly eyed the number of people in the gallery.

“Are we ready for the jury?” she asked.

I stood to address the court.

“Your Honor, before we call the jury, I would like to address a couple of matters that have just now come up.”

“What is it, Mr. Haller?”

She said it with exasperation clearly in her voice.

“Well, Agent Marco is here presumably to testify as a witness called by the defense. I would like to request that I be allowed to treat him as a hostile witness and I would also ask that the court direct Agent Marco to remove the firearm he is wearing openly on his belt.”

“Let’s take these one at a time, Mr. Haller. First, you have called Agent Marco as a defense witness and he has so far not answered a single question. On what basis should you be allowed to treat your own witness as a hostile witness?”

Classifying a witness as hostile would allow me more freedom in questioning Marco. I could ask leading questions needing only a yes or no response.

“Your Honor, Agent Marco has sought to avoid testifying at this trial. He has even brought his lawyer with him today. Additionally, the one and only time I have met Agent Marco, he threatened me. I think that makes him, well, hostile.”

Forsythe stood to respond, as did Marco’s attorney, but the judge waved them off.

“Your request is denied. Let’s start the testimony and see how it goes. Now, what troubles you about Agent Marco’s sidearm?”

I asked if she could direct Marco to stand in the gallery so that she could see his gun. She agreed and ordered him to stand.

“Your Honor,” I said, “I believe that his wearing his weapon in such an open way is threatening and prejudicial.”

“He
is
a law enforcement officer,” Leggoe said. “And that will be established, I’m assuming, when he begins his testimony.”

“Yes, Judge, but he’s going to walk by the jury on his way to the stand looking like he’s Wyatt Earp. This is a courtroom, Judge, not the Old West.”

The judge thought for a moment and then shook her head.

“I’m unconvinced, Mr. Haller. I’m denying that request as well.”

I had hoped the judge would read between the lines and understand what I was seeking. I was going to push Marco out of his comfort zone and, depending on how things went, possibly even accuse him of murder. You never know how people are going to react, even law enforcement officers. I would have been far more comfortable knowing Marco was unarmed.

“Anything else, Mr. Haller? The jury has been most patient waiting on us.”

“Yes, Judge, one more thing. This morning I will call Agent Marco, followed by Investigator Lankford. I would ask that you instruct Mr. Lankford to remain in the courtroom so that I can ensure his testimony.”

“I will do no such thing. Mr. Lankford is expected to be where he should be, but I will not restrict his movements in the meantime. Let’s bring the jury in now.”

I glanced back at Lankford after the ruling and saw his cold-eyed stare trained fully on me.

The jury was finally seated, and the judge took five minutes to explain to them that the defendant would likely not be present for the rest of the trial. She said this was due to a hospitalization that had nothing to do with the trial or the case at hand. She admonished them not to let the defendant’s absence affect their deliberations or view of the trial in any way.

I then took my place at the lectern and called James Marco to the stand. The federal agent stood in the gallery and stepped forward with an undeniable confidence and ease in his stride.

After the preliminaries that identified him as a DEA agent and member of the ICE team, I quickly got down to the script I had worked out in my head during the sleepless night before.

“Agent Marco, please tell the jury how you knew the victim in this case, Gloria Dayton.”

“I did not know her.”

“We have heard testimony here that she was your informant. Is that not true?”

“It is not true.”

“Did she call you on November sixth to inform you that she had been subpoenaed in a habeas corpus case involving Hector Arrande Moya?”

“No, she did not.”

“Are you familiar with Hector Arrande Moya?”

“Yes, I am.”

“How so?”

“He’s a drug dealer who was arrested by the LAPD about eight years ago. The case was eventually taken over by federal prosecutors and it landed in my lap. I became the case agent on it at that time. Moya was convicted of various charges in federal court and sentenced to life in prison.”

“And in the course of your work on that case, did you ever hear the name Gloria Dayton?”

“No, I did not.”

I paused for a moment and referred to my notes. So far, Marco had been nothing but cordial in his responses and seemed unconcerned by being forced to testify. His denials were what I had expected. My job was to somehow open a crack in the facade and then exploit it.

“Now, you are currently involved in a federal case involving Hector Moya, are you not?”

“I don’t know the details because the lawyers are handling it.”

“Mr. Moya is suing the federal government, alleging that you set him up in that bust eight years ago, is he not?”

“Mr. Moya is in prison and is a desperate man. You can sue anybody for anything, but the fact is, I was not there when he got busted and it wasn’t my case. It came to me afterward and that’s all I know about the whole thing.”

I nodded as though I was pleased with his answer.

“Okay, let’s move on. What about other players in this case? Do you know or have past experience with anyone?”

“Players? I am not sure who you mean?”

“For example, do you know the prosecutor, Mr. Forsythe?”

I turned and gestured toward Forsythe.

“No, I don’t know him,” Marco said.

“How about the lead investigator on the case, Detective Whitten?” I asked. “Any past association with him?”

Forsythe objected, asking where I was going with this meandering examination. I asked for the judge’s indulgence and promised to get to the point quickly. The judge let me carry on.

“No, I don’t know Detective Whitten either,” Marco answered.

“Then how about the DA’s investigator, Mr. Lankford?”

I pointed at Lankford, who was sitting face forward, staring at the back of Forsythe’s head.

“He and I go back about ten years,” Marco said. “I knew him then.”

“How so?” I asked.

“There was a case when he was with the Glendale PD, and we crossed paths.”

“What was the case?”

“There was a double murder, and the victims were drug dealers. Lankford caught the case and he consulted with me a couple, maybe three, times about it.”

“Why you?”

“DEA, I guess. The dead guys were drug dealers. There were drugs found in the house where they got killed.”

“And Detective Lankford wanted to know what? If you knew anything about the victims or who might have killed them?”

“Yes. Things like that.”

“Were you able to help?”

“Not real—”

Forsythe objected again, citing relevancy.

“We are trying a case involving a murder seven months ago,” he said. “Mr. Haller has shown no relevancy to this case ten years ago.”

“Relevancy is coming, Your Honor,” I responded. “And Mr. Forsythe knows it.”

“Soon, Mr. Haller,” the judge responded.

I nodded my thanks.

“Agent Marco, did you just say you were unable to help Detective Lankford?”

“I don’t think I was. As far as I know, they never made a case against anyone.”

“Were you familiar with the victims in that case?”

“I knew who they were. They were on our radar but they weren’t the subjects of an active investigation.”

“What about in this case, Agent Marco? The Gloria Dayton case. Has Investigator Lankford consulted you on it?”

“No, he has not.”

“Have you consulted him on it?”

“No, I have not.”

“So, no communication between you two?”

“None.”

There was the crack. I knew I was in.

“Now this double murder you spoke of from ten years ago, was that the one on Salem Street in Glendale?”

“Uh . . . yes, I believe so.”

“Are you familiar with the name Stratton Sterghos?”

Forsythe objected and asked for a sidebar. The judge signaled us up to the bench, and then, as expected, the prosecutor complained that I was trying an end-run move to bring Sterghos in as a witness when the judge had already struck him from the witness list.

I shook my head.

“Judge, that is not what I am trying to do now, and I will go on record right here and say I will not be calling Dr. Sterghos as a witness. He’s not even in Los Angeles. All I want to do here is establish whether the witness knew that I had put Sterghos on the witness list. He said he’s had no contact with anyone associated with this case, but I will be introducing evidence to the contrary.”

Forsythe shook his head like he was exhausted by my antics.

“There is no evidence, Judge. This is just a sideshow. He’s trying to hijack the case while he chases after rainbows.”

I smiled and shook my head. I looked back at the courtroom and happened to see Lankford walking down the center aisle to the rear door.

“Where’s your investigator going?” I asked Forsythe. “I’m going to put him on the stand in a few minutes.”

The question to Forsythe alerted the judge. She raised her head to look over us.

“Mr. Lankford,” she called.

Lankford stopped five feet from the door and looked back.

“Where are you going?” the judge asked. “You are going to be called soon as a witness.”

Lankford held his hands out like he was not sure of an answer.

“Uh, the men’s room.”

“Be back soon, please. You will be needed shortly and we have already lost enough time this morning. I want no more delays.”

Lankford nodded and continued out of the courtroom.

“Excuse me a moment, gentlemen,” the judge said.

She rolled her chair to her left and leaned over the edge of the bench to converse with her clerk. I heard her ask the clerk to tell one of the courtroom deputies to make sure Lankford came back promptly to the courtroom.

That made me feel better about things.

The judge rolled back and returned her focus to the subject of the sidebar. She warned me that her patience had grown exceedingly thin and that I needed to draw the string on the net she had allowed me to cast.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

I went back to the lectern.

“Agent Marco, did anyone tell you that the name Stratton Sterghos had appeared on the defense’s amended witness list this week?”

Marco showed the first signs of discomfort, shaking his head wearily.

“No. I don’t know that name. I never heard of the man before you just brought him up.”

I nodded and made a notation on my legal pad. It read
Got you, motherfucker
.

“Can you tell the jury where you were on the night of November eleventh of last year?”

Forsythe stood.

“Your Honor!”

“Be seated, Mr. Forsythe.”

Marco shook his head casually.

“I can’t remember exactly what I was doing that far back.”

“It was a Sunday.”

He shrugged.

“Then I was probably watching
Sunday Night Football
. I don’t know for sure. Does that make me guilty of something?”

I waited, but nothing more came.

“The way it usually works is that I ask the questions,” I said.

“Sure,” he said. “Ask away.”

“What about two nights ago on Monday? Do you remember where you were that night?”

Marco didn’t answer for a long moment. I think he realized that he might be standing in the middle of a minefield. In the silence, I heard the rear door of the courtroom open and turned to see Lankford returning, one of the courtroom deputies behind him.

“I was on a surveillance,” Marco finally said.

I turned back to the witness stand.

“A surveillance of whom?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“That’s a case. I’m not going to talk about it in open court.”

“Was that surveillance on Salem Street in Glendale?”

Again he shook his head.

“I’m not going to talk about open investigations in court.”

I stared at him for a long time, wondering how far I should push him.

I finally decided to wait and looked up at the judge.

“Your Honor, I have no further questions at this time but I request that the court hold Agent Marco as a witness so that I can recall him later today.”

The judge frowned.

“Why can’t you finish your direct now, Mr. Haller?”

“I need to take testimony from another witness this morning, and from that testimony I will draw the final questions I’ll have for Agent Marco. I appreciate the court’s ongoing indulgence of the defense’s presentation.”

Leggoe asked Forsythe if he had an issue with my plan.

“Judge, the people have grown very weary of defense counsel’s flights of fancy but once more we are willing to take the ride. I know this will be another crash-and-burn and forgive me but I just can’t look away.”

The judge asked Forsythe if he wanted the opportunity to cross-examine Marco before he stepped down. This would be in addition to the opportunity he would have after I brought the DEA agent back to the stand in the afternoon. Without much thought, he opted to wait to conduct one uninterrupted cross-examination. And as a safety measure, he reserved the right to call Marco back to the stand even if I didn’t.