The Lincoln Lawyer - Michael Connelly [118]
Lankford’s face grew dark with insult and anger that he looked like he was having trouble controlling. I decided to push it. I took out my cell phone and opened it.
“I’m going to call your judge right now and see if he—”
“Fine,” Lankford said. “We’ll start with the car. Together. We’ll work our way inside the house.”
I closed the phone and put it back in my pocket.
“Fine.”
I walked over to a keypad on the wall outside the garage. I tapped in the combination and the garage door started to rise, revealing the blue-black Lincoln awaiting inspection. Its license plate read NT GLTY. Lankford looked at it and shook his head.
“Yeah, right.”
He stepped into the garage, his face still tight with anger. I decided to ease things a little bit.
“Hey, Detective,” I said. “What’s the difference between a catfish and a defense attorney?”
He didn’t respond. He stared angrily at the license plate on my Lincoln.
“One’s a bottom-feeding shit sucker,” I said. “And the other one’s a fish.”
For a moment his face remained frozen. Then a smile creased it and he broke into a long and hard laugh. Sobel stepped into the garage, having not heard the joke.
“What?” she said.
“I’ll tell you later,” Lankford said.
Thirty-one
It took them a half hour to search the Lincoln and then move into the house, where they started with the office. I watched the whole time and only spoke when offering explanation about something that gave them pause in their search. They didn’t talk much to each other and it was becoming increasingly clear that there was a rift between the two partners over the direction Lankford had taken the investigation.
At one point Lankford got a call on his cell phone and he went out the front door onto the porch to talk privately. I had the shades up and if I stood in the hallway I could look one way and see him out there and the other way and see Sobel in my office.
“You’re not too happy about this, are you?” I said to Sobel when I was sure her partner couldn’t hear.
“It doesn’t matter how I am. We’re following the case and that’s it.”
“Is your partner always like that, or only with lawyers?”
“He spent fifty thousand dollars on a lawyer last year, trying to get custody of his kids. He didn’t. Before that we lost a big case—a murder—on a legal technicality.”
I nodded.
“And he blamed the lawyer. But who broke the rules?”
She didn’t respond and that as much as confirmed it had been Lankford who had made the technical misstep.
“I get the picture,” I said.
I checked on Lankford on the porch again. He was gesturing impatiently like he was trying to explain something to a moron. Must have been his custody lawyer. I decided to change the subject with Sobel.
“Do you think you are being manipulated at all on this case?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The photos stashed in the bureau, the bullet casing in the floor vent. Pretty convenient, don’t you think?”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m not saying anything. I’m asking questions your partner doesn’t seem interested in.”
I checked on Lankford. He was tapping in numbers on his cell, making a new call. I turned and stepped into the open doorway of the office. Sobel was looking behind the files in a drawer. Finding no gun, she closed the drawer and stepped over to the desk. I spoke in a low voice.
“What about Raul’s message to me?” I said. “About finding Jesus Menendez’s ticket out, what do you think he meant?”
“We haven’t figured that out yet.”
“Too bad. I think it’s important.”
“Everything’s important until it isn’t.”
I nodded, not sure what she meant by that.
“You know, the case I’m trying is pretty interesting. You ought to come back by and watch. You might learn something.”
She looked from the desk to me. Our eyes held for a moment. Then she squinted with suspicion, like she was trying to judge whether a supposed murder suspect was actually coming on to her.
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“Well, for one thing, you might have trouble getting to court if you’re in