The Fifth Witness - Michael Connelly [46]
“Yeah. Alone.”
“You got it.”
He left then and I grabbed the bed’s remote. I slowly and painfully raised the bed to about forty-five degrees so I was half sitting up for my next visitor. The adjustment ignited another run of searing pain that burned across my rib cage like an August brushfire.
Rojas tentatively entered the room, waving and nodding at me.
“Hey, Mr. Haller, how you doin’?”
“I’ve had better days, Rojas. How are you doing?”
“I’m good, I’m good. I just wanted to stop by and say hello and all.”
He was as nervous as a feral cat. And I thought I knew why.
“It was nice of you to come by. Why don’t you sit in that chair over there.”
“Okay.”
He took the chair in the corner. This allowed me a full view of him. I would be able to pick up all body movements as I tried to read him. He was already displaying some of the classic tells of a dissembler—avoidance of eye contact, inappropriate smiling, constant hand movement.
“Did the doctors tell you how long you have to stay here?” he asked.
“A few more days, I think. At least until I stop pissing blood.”
“Man, that’s bad shit! They going to catch who did it?”
“They don’t seem to be working too hard on it.”
Rojas nodded. I said nothing else. Silence is often a very useful interview tool. My driver then rubbed his palms up and down his thighs a few times and stood up.
“Well, I didn’t want to interrupt you. You probably have to get your sleep or something.”
“No, I’m up for the day, Rojas. It hurts too much to sleep. You can stay. What’s the hurry? You’re not driving somebody else now, are you?”
“Oh, no, no, nothing like that.”
He reluctantly sat down again. Rojas had been a client before he was my driver. He’d been popped on a possession-of-stolen-property beef and had a prior conviction to go with it. The prosecution wanted jail time but I was able to get him probation. He owed me three grand for my efforts but had lost his job since his employer was also the victim of the theft. I told him he could work it off by driving and translating for me and he took the job. I started out paying him $500 a week and counted an additional $250 against the debt. After three months the debt was cleared but he stayed on, collecting the whole $750 now. I thought he was happy and on the straight and narrow path, but maybe once a thief, always a thief.
“I just want you to know, Mr. Haller, that once you get out of here, I’m on call for you twenty-four hours a day. I don’t want you driving nowhere. If you even have to go down the hill to the Starbucks, I’ll be there to take you.”
“Thank you, Rojas. After all, I guess it’s the least you can do, right?”
“Uh…”
He looked confused but not that confused. He knew where this was headed. I decided not to dance around it any longer.
“How much did he pay you?”
He fidgeted in the seat.
“Who? For what?”
“Come on, Rojas. Don’t play it this way. It’s embarrassing.”
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe I should go after all.”
He stood up.
“We don’t have an agreement, Rojas. We don’t have a contract, no verbal promises, nothing. You walk out of this room and I fire you and that’s it. Is that what you want here?”
“Doesn’t matter if there’s an agreement. You can’t just fire me for no reason.”
“But I have the reason, Rojas. Herb Dahl told me all about it. You should know there’s no honor among thieves. He said you called him up and told him you’d get him whatever he needs.”
The bluff worked. I saw the rage explode in Rojas’s eyes. I had my finger on the nurse-call button just in case.
“That greasy little shit eater!”
I nodded.
“Good description. How—”
“I didn’t call his ass up. The fucker came to me. He said he just wanted fifteen seconds in the trunk. I shoulda known this would blow up on me.”
“I thought you were smarter than that, Rojas. How much did he pay you?”
“Four bills.”
“Not even a week’s pay and now you’re not going to have any pay.”
Rojas came close to the bedside. I held my finger on the call button. I figured he was going to either attack me or ask me for a deal.
“Mr. Haller