January Justice Part 25

32.

In the morning the guards led us out and down a hall into a large recreation area, where we lined up for chow. Powdered eggs, powdered milk, some sort of orange-colored liquid, cold bacon, and a slice of white bread. It wasn't any worse than a meal ready to eat in the Marines. I found a seat at a round steel table and dug in.

About nine o'clock, four guards came into the recreation area and announced they would be calling names for court. Mine was the third name on their list. When I walked over to the deputies, they put cuffs on my wrists and chains around my ankles, which were connected by another chain to the cuffs. After they had called a dozen prisoners up to be restrained, we all shuffled off in single file.

It turned out the Orange County Superior Court had a courtroom right there in the jail. They kept us waiting in a holding cell until our names were called. When it was my turn, a deputy removed the cuffs and shackles and led me into the courtroom. It wasn't a very big s.p.a.ce. The ceiling was low. The public seating area was limited but completely full. I figured most of the observers were reporters. Obviously, a home invasion at a congressman's residence was big news. I figured the reporters had already checked my criminal record and learned I was one of the butchers of Laui Kalay. Toss in a movie star like Dona Elena mortally wounding one of her attackers, and you had a global story.

I thanked G.o.d for the presence of mind that had led me to answer "self-employed private investigator" when they booked me into jail the day before. I told myself there was no reason the reporters would care about my employment history, no reason they would look into it hard enough to learn I was once Haley Lane's chauffeur and bodyguard. I told myself the police file on Haley's murder wasn't public, so the reporters wouldn't know I was the other victim on the night she died. I told myself those things and prayed they were true.

Teru was waiting for me beside a table in front of the raised platform where the judge was sitting. He looked good in a well-tailored black suit with a red paisley tie and a pair of ta.s.seled Italian-looking loafers.

"Nice shoes," I said.

"Can't say the same about yours."

Looking down at the slippers, I shrugged. "Comfort before fas.h.i.+on."

We sat at the table. He put a piece of paper and a ballpoint pen in front of me. "Sign this power of attorney so I can tell Howard Williams to cover your bail," he said.

"Howard Williams?"

"The lawyer in New York."

"I know who you mean. But can't I use my own savings and a bondsman?"

"With a bail bondsman, you'd have to cover ten percent. Do you have a hundred thousand?"

"You think it will be set that high? A million dollars, really?"

"At least."

I sighed, picked up the pen, and signed where he pointed on the paper.

The bailiff called the court to order, and the judge asked the lawyers to go to work. A middle-aged woman sitting at another table rose and explained that the people believed I had partic.i.p.ated in a home invasion. She listed their evidence against me. The judge asked me how I wished to plead. Teru and I stood up, and I told her I was not guilty. We sat down again. The middle-aged woman said the judge should refuse to grant me bail, because I was a highly trained ex-soldier with a criminal record, capable of great violence, and an obvious flight risk who had spent years traveling all over the world. Teru stood up and said the judge should grant bail because I was a highly decorated marine with strong connections to the community.

The judge cast her eye over the crowd of reporters and said, "Bail is set at one million five hundred thousand dollars. Bailiff, call the next one."

The middle-aged woman at the other table looked smug. She probably a.s.sumed I wouldn't be able to make that much bail.

Teru said, "Should I tell Williams to use a bail bondsman and pay the full amount directly?"

I thought about it for a minute. "If Williams pays it in cash, would the reporters find out?"

"No. The source of bail payments isn't made public."

"If I appear when I'm supposed to, the county returns the money?"

"That's right, unless there are fees. They'll take those off the top."

I decided it didn't make sense to pay one hundred and fifty thousand to a bondsman when I didn't have to. Haley would want me to be smart with the money. "Tell Williams to go ahead and cover the whole million and a half."

About two hours later, a deputy took me to the intake and release center, where my clothing and the contents of my pockets were returned. They didn't return my firearm or my knife. Teru met me outside in the lobby. So did half a dozen reporters, including two camera teams. Everybody started asking questions at the same time. I had learned how to handle it from watching Haley. I smiled as widely as I could and looked straight at the cameras so my photos in the media would look wholesome and friendly, but I didn't say a word. It was a great relief that n.o.body mentioned Haley.

Teru and I jaywalked across Flower Street, with the reporters all around us. He guided me toward the parking garage next to the munic.i.p.al stadium. Questions kept flying in spite of our silence. I admired the reporters' persistence.

At the parking garage, we took the stairs to the second level and got into Teru's Porsche. He put his unlit pipe in his mouth, gunned the engine a couple of times to warn the reporters standing behind the rear b.u.mper, and backed out of the parking place. He drove well through the little crowd. Not everyone knows how to drive a Porsche in low gear.

When we were on the road, I said, "Where's the limo?"

"At the house. Detective Harper called and told us where to find it."

"Good for him. How long has it been since you were in a courtroom?"

"Twenty years, give or take."

"You were pretty good."

"That was the easy part. Anyone could do it. But you're gonna need somebody, Malcolm. Somebody very good. The a.s.sistant district attorney gave me their case file. They have your fingerprints in the house. They have Dona Elena Montes and Congressman Montes saying you told them you're working for the URNG. They have your gun, and it was discharged in the commission of the crime. They have photos of you and Castro together in a couple of places."

The photos surprised me. I wondered who had taken them and why Harper hadn't mentioned them before. I said, "What places?"

"The cemetery in Newport. In front of Musso and Frank in Hollywood. Did you know the cops had you under surveillance?"

"I did not. Does the file say they took the photos?"

"No, I just a.s.sumed the Feds or LAPD were watching the Guatemalans for the congressman when you came along. Who else would have taken them?"

"Those two guys who tried to kill me, maybe. Or maybe not. I didn't see them at the cemetery. That was Haley's birthday, so I wasn't in the best state of mind. I wasn't paying much attention to my perimeter. But I did see them outside Musso and Frank."

"Why would they give pictures to the police?"

"I don't know."

Teru aimed us at the on-ramp to the 55 and gunned it. The Porsche accelerated nicely.

I said, "How many miles on this thing?"

"Hundred twenty-two thousand."

"I thought you said the miles were low."

"Low for the price."

Teru, it's a Porsche. You don't buy a high-mileage Porsche. What were you thinking?"

"I figured you could keep it running."

"You did?"

He turned to smile at me, pipe clenched tightly in his teeth. "I did."

"Okay. Was there anything else in that file they gave you?"

"They know you've been looking into Dona Elena's finances."

"How do they know that?"

"They took your computer. It was in your search history."

"Oh boy."

"It's a motive, Malcolm. They'll say you went looking to find out exactly what her a.s.sets are and exactly where they are. They'll say it's what you would do if you were thinking about a kidnapping."

"I know."

"Another thing. Dona Elena says Delarosa was in on the home invasion."

"I know that, too."

"Okay, but they have a statement from your buddy, Tom Harper. He says you were asking lots of questions about Delarosa but wouldn't tell him why. And that Detective Russo with the LAPD confirms it in a separate statement."

"Yeah, we had a talk over lunch."

"Not good, Malcolm. Like I said, you're gonna need a better lawyer. Maybe somebody who gardens in his spare time instead of the other way around."

"If you say so."

"Oh, I definitely say so."

33.

We rode in silence for a few miles. I ran through all the possible explanations for the Montes's home invasion. The more I thought about the possibility that Vega had intended to murder the congressman and frame me for it all along, the more sense that theory made. With my court-martial conviction and dishonorable discharge, I was the perfect patsy. In fact, I had been a fool not to see it coming.

I said, "You got an hour or two?"

Teru said, "Sure."

I pointed at an upcoming exit. "Take the 405 to LA."

Teru took the exit, and we rode north.

We got off the highway at Century Boulevard, and I directed Teru to the Renaissance Hotel near LAX. He pulled under the porte cochere and waved off the valet. I hopped out, told the valet we would only be a minute, and went inside the lobby.

The desk clerk was convinced he had a moral duty to safeguard the privacy of the hotel's guests until I placed a pair of twenties on the counter. He put the money in his pocket, turned to his computer, and started tapping keys.

He said, "Mr. Brown checked out this morning."

I wasn't surprised. I said, "Did he happen to mention where he was going from here?"

"No."

"He was here for quite a while, wasn't he?"

The clerk checked the screen. "Twenty-three days."

"Maybe he got to know someone on the staff. A maid? A manager?"

"I couldn't say."

"What room was he in?"

"I couldn't say."

I said, "Answer me."

He looked up. We made eye contact. I gave him the stare that had motivated many good marines to follow my commands.

He said, "Six sixteen."

"Has it been cleaned?"

"I doubt it."

"Give me a pa.s.s card."

"You could get me fired, going up there with a card."

"I can get you fired for taking that money, and I will unless you give me the card."

He gave me the card. I crossed the lobby to the elevator. When I got to the room upstairs, the door was open and a cleaning cart was parked there in the hall. I went in.

A short Latino woman came out of the bathroom, carrying used towels. She wore a pink uniform and Reebok running shoes. She said, "Jes?"

I spoke to her in Spanish. "Mr. Brown left something in the room. He asked me to come back and get it."

She frowned. "Okay..."