The Fifth Witness - Michael Connelly [179]
I shrugged again.
“I didn’t. I just figured that once it became apparent that his connections were going to come out in open court, he would do what he had to do to stop it. He had one choice. The Fifth.”
Aronson didn’t look as though my answer appeased her. I turned away and looked across the crowded yard. My client’s son was at a nearby table with her sister. They both looked bored, as if forced to be there. A large group of children had gathered near the terraced herb garden. A woman in the middle of the circle was handing out candy from a bag. She was wearing a red, white and blue top hat like Uncle Sam’s.
“How long do we need to stay, Boss?” Cisco asked.
“You’re not on the clock,” I said. “I just thought we should put in an appearance.”
“I want to stay,” Lorna said, probably just to spite him. “Maybe some Hollywood people will show up.”
A few minutes later the main attraction of the day came out the back door, followed by a reporter and a cameraman. They picked a location with the crowd in the background and Lisa Trammel stood for a quick interview. I didn’t bother to try to listen. I’d heard and seen the same interview enough over the past two days.
After Lisa finished the interview she broke away from the media, shook some hands and posed for some photos. Eventually, she made her way to our table, stopping to ruffle her son’s hair on the way.
“There they are. The victors! How’s my team doing today?”
I managed to smile.
“We’re good, Lisa. And you look fine, too. Where’s Herb?”
She looked around as if searching for Dahl in the crowd.
“I don’t know. He was supposed to be here.”
“Too bad,” Cisco said. “We’ll miss him.”
Lisa didn’t seem to register the sarcasm.
“You know I need to talk to you later, Mickey,” she said. “I need your advice on which show to do. Good Morning America or Today? They both want me next week but I have to pick one because neither will take seconds.”
I flipped my hand as if the answer didn’t matter.
“I don’t know. Herb can probably help you with that. He’s the media guy.”
Lisa looked back at the gathering of children and started to smile.
“Oh, I have just the thing for those children. Excuse me, everybody.”
She hurried off and went around the corner of the house.
“She’s sure loving it, isn’t she?” Cisco said.
“I would be, too,” Lorna said.
I looked at Aronson.
“Why so quiet?”
She shrugged.
“I don’t know. I’m not so sure I like criminal defense anymore. I think if you take on some of those people who have been calling, I’ll stick with the foreclosures. If you don’t mind.”
I nodded.
“I think I know what you’re feeling. You can do the foreclosure work if you want to. There’s going to be plenty of that for a while, especially with guys like Opparizio still in business. But that feeling you’ve got does go away. Believe me, Bullocks, it does.”
She didn’t respond to the return of her nickname or anything else I had said. I turned to look across the yard. Lisa was back and she had rolled out the helium tank from the garage. She told the children to gather around and started filling balloons. The TV cameraman moved in to get the shot. It would be perfect for the six o’clock news.
“Now, is she doing that for the kids or for the camera?” Cisco asked.
“You really have to ask?” Lorna responded.
Lisa pulled a blue balloon off the tank and expertly tied it off with a string. She handed it to a girl of about six, who grabbed the string and let the balloon shoot six feet above her head. The girl smiled and turned her face up to gaze at her new toy. And in that moment I knew what Mitchell Bondurant was looking up at when Lisa hit him with the hammer.
“She did it,” I whispered under my breath.
I felt the burn of a million synapses firing down my neck and across my shoulders.
“What did you say?” Aronson asked me.
I looked at her but didn’t answer and then looked back at my client. She filled another balloon with gas, tied the knot and handed it to a boy. The same thing happened again. The boy held the string and turned his cheery face up to look at the red