The Gods of Guilt(24)

I nodded like I thought that was a good thing, then smiled.

“Don’t tell me you went to the dark side. You’re working for one of these defense guys?”

Lankford looked disgusted.

“No fucking chance I’d work for one of you creeps. I work for the DA now. And by the way, a seat just opened up at the big table. Why don’t you go over there and sit with your own people?”

I had to smile. Lankford hadn’t changed in the seven years or so since I had seen him. I kind of enjoyed tweaking him.

“No, I think I’m good here.”

“Wonderful.”

“What about Detective Sobel? Is she still with the department?”

Lankford’s partner back then was the one I communicated with. She didn’t carry around a bagful of biases like he did.

“She’s still there and she’s doing well. Tell me, which one of these fine upstanding citizens they’re traipsing out in bracelets is your client today?”

“Oh, mine will be in the next batch. He’s a real winner, though. A pimp accused of killing one of his own girls. It’s a heartwarming story, Lankford.”

Lankford pressed back into his chair slightly and I realized I had surprised him.

“Don’t tell me,” he said. “La Cosse?”

I nodded.

“That’s right. It’s your case, too?”

A sneer cracked across his face.

“You bet. And now I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.”

DA investigators were used for ancillary duties on a case. The primary investigators remained the police detectives who worked the case from the crime scene on. But when the case was filed and shifted from the police department to the Prosecutor’s Office, DA investigators were used to help prep the case for trial. Their duties included locating witnesses, getting them to court, and reacting to defense maneuvers and witnesses and the like. It was a mixed bag of second-tier responsibilities. Their job was to be prepared to do what needed to be done in the run-up to trial.

The great majority of DA investigators were former cops, many of whom were retired like Lankford. They were double dippers, collecting a pension from one department and a paycheck from the DA. Nice work if you could get it. The thing that struck me as unusual was that Lankford had already been assigned to the La Cosse case. The defendant had not even made a first appearance yet and Lankford was on the case and in the courtroom.

“I don’t get it,” I said. “They just filed on him yesterday and you’re already assigned?”

“I’m in the homicide division. We get cases on a rotation. This one’s mine and I just wanted to get a look at the guy, see what I’ll be dealing with. And now that I know who his lawyer is, I know exactly who I’m dealing with.”

He stood up and turned to look down at me. I noticed the badge clipped to his belt and the black leather boots he wore below cuffed suit pants. It wasn’t a good look but probably no one wanted to incur his wrath by telling him.

“This will be fun,” he said and then he walked away.

“You’re not going to wait for him to come out?”

Lankford didn’t answer. He walked through the gate and down the center aisle toward the door at the back of the courtroom.

After watching him go, I sat still for a few moments, thinking about the veiled threat and the knowledge that I now had to factor in having an investigator with a hard-on for me working for the prosecutor on the case.

It was not a good start.

My phone buzzed in my hand and I checked the text. It was from Lorna and it was a little bit of good news to balance out the Lankford episode.

The gold brick was real! $52K+ deposited in escrow account.

We were in business. No matter what happened, at least I was going to get paid. I started to forget about Lankford. And then a shadow fell across me and I looked up to see one of the detention deputies standing over me.

“You’re Haller, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me. What’s—”

He showered a stack of business cards down on me. My own cards. The ones I had given La Cosse.

“You pull that stunt again and you’ll never be allowed back to see one of your scumbag clients. At least not on my watch.”

I felt my face growing red. Several attorneys were watching us. The only saving grace was that Lankford had missed the show.

“Got it?” the deputy asked.

“Yeah, got it,” I said.

“Good,” he said.

He walked away and I started gathering up the cards. Show over, the other lawyers turned and went back to business.





8





There was only one Lincoln at the curb when I got out of court this time. Everybody else had already split for lunch. I jumped in the back and told Earl to head toward Hollywood. I didn’t know where Stacey Campbell lived but I was guessing it wasn’t in downtown. I pulled my phone, looked at the number on my hand, and punched it in. She answered promptly with a practiced voice that was soft and sexy and everything I assumed was wanted in a prostitute’s voice.