Free The Brass Verdict by Michael Connelly Page A

guys see? No one’s going to give a guy like me a job. Nobody’s going to hire me. I’m waiting on this case and I might be in jail before it’s all over. I mean, I teach water babies part-time on the beach but it don’t pay me jack. I’m living out of my damn car, sleeping on a lifeguard stand at Hermosa Beach. This time two years ago? I was in a suite at the Four Seasons in Maui.”
    “Yeah, I know, life sucks. You still have a driver’s license?”
    “That’s about all I got left.”
    I made a decision.
    “Okay, you know where Jerry Vincent’s office is? You ever been there?”
    “Yeah, I delivered the boards there. And my fish.”
    “Your fish?”
    “He took a sixty-pound tarpon I caught when I was a kid back in Florida. Said he was going to put it on the wall and pretend like he caught it or something.”
    “Yeah, well, your fish is still there. Anyway, be at the office at nine sharp tomorrow morning and I’ll interview you for a job. If it goes right, then you’ll start right away.”
    “Doing what?”
    “Driving me. I’ll pay you fifteen bucks an hour to drive and another fifteen toward your fees. How’s that?”
    There was a moment of silence before Henson responded in an accommodating voice.
    “That’s good, man. I can be there for that.”
    “Good. See you then. Just remember something, Patrick. You gotta stay clean. If you’re not, I’ll know. Believe me, I’ll know.”
    “Don’t worry, man. I will never go back to that shit. That shit fucked my life up for good.”
    “Okay, Patrick, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    “Hey, man, why are you doing this?”
    I hesitated before answering.
    “You know, I don’t really know.”
    I closed the phone and made sure to turn it off. I went back into the courtroom wondering if I was doing something good or making the kind of mistake that would catch up and bite me on the ass.
    It was perfect timing. The judge finished with the last motion as I came back in. I saw that a deputy district attorney named Don Pierce was sitting at the prosecution table, ready to go with the sentencing. He was an ex-navy guy who kept the crew cut going and was one of the regulars at cocktail hour at Four Green Fields. I quickly packed all the files back into my bag and wheeled it through the gate to the defense table.
    “Well,” the judge said, “I see the Lone Ranger rides again.”
    She said it with a smile and I smiled back at her.
    “Yes, Your Honor. Nice to see you.”
    “I haven’t seen you in quite a while, Mr. Haller.”
    Open court was not the place to tell her where I had been. I kept my responses short. I spread my hands as if presenting the new me.
    “All I can say is, I’m back now, Judge.”
    “I’m glad to see that. Now, you are here in place of Mr. Vincent, is that correct?”
    It was said in a routine tone. I could tell she did not know about Vincent’s demise. I knew I could keep the secret and get through the sentencing with it. But then she would hear the story and wonder why I hadn’t brought it up and told her. It was not a good way to keep a judge on your side.
    “Unfortunately, Your Honor,” I said, “Mr. Vincent passed away last night.”
    The judge’s eyebrows arched in shock. She had been a longtime prosecutor before being a longtime judge. She was wired into the legal community and most likely knew Jerry Vincent well. I had just hit her with a major jolt.
    “Oh, my, he was so young!” she exclaimed. “What happened?”
    I shook my head like I didn’t know.
    “It wasn’t a natural death, Your Honor. The police are investigating it and I don’t really know a lot about it other than that he was found in his car last night at his office. Judge Holder called me in today and appointed me replacement counsel. That’s why I am here for Mr. Reese.”
    The judge looked down and took a moment to get over her shock. I felt bad about being the messenger. I bent down and pulled the Edgar Reese file out of my bag.
    “I’m very sorry