Page 156 of The Lincoln Lawyer

“Hello?”

“Mickey Haller, this is Jack Smithson in the DA’s office. How’s your day going?”

“I’ve had better.”

“Not after you hear what I’m offering to do for you.”

“I’m listening.”

Forty-three

The judge did not come out of chambers for fifteen minutes on top of the thirty she had promised. We were all waiting, Roulet and I at the defense table, his mother and Dobbs behind us in the first row. At the prosecution table Minton was no longer flying solo. Next to him sat Jack Smithson. I was thinking that it was probably the first time he had actually been inside a courtroom in a year.

Minton looked downcast and defeated. Sitting next to Smithson, he could have been taken as a defendant with his attorney. He looked guilty as charged.

Detective Booker was not in the courtroom and I wondered if he was working on something or simply if no one had bothered to call him with the bad news.

I turned to check the big clock on the back wall and to scan the gallery. The screen for Minton’s PowerPoint presentation was gone now, a hint of what was to come. I saw Sobel sitting in the back row, but her partner and Kurlen were still nowhere to be seen. There was nobody else but Dobbs and Windsor, and they didn’t count. The row reserved for the media was empty. The media had not been alerted. I was keeping my side of the deal with Smithson.

Deputy Meehan called the courtroom to order and Judge Fullbright took the bench with a flourish, the scent of lilac wafting toward the tables. I guessed that she’d had a cigarette or two back there in chambers and had gone heavy with the perfume as cover.

“In the matter of the state versus Louis Ross Roulet, I understand from my clerk that we have a motion.”

Minton stood.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

He said nothing further, as if he could not bring himself to speak.

“Well, Mr. Minton, are you sending it to me telepathically?”

“No, Your Honor.”

Minton looked down at Smithson and got the go-ahead nod.

“The state moves to dismiss all charges against Louis Ross Roulet.”

The judge nodded as though she had expected the move. I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me and knew it was from Mary Windsor. She knew what was going to happen but had held her emotions in check until she had actually heard it in the courtroom.

“Is that with or without prejudice?” the judge asked.

“Dismiss with prejudice.”

“Are you sure about that, Mr. Minton? That means no comebacks from the state.”

“Yes, Your Honor, I know,” Minton said with a note of annoyance at the judge’s need to explain the law to him.

The judge wrote something down and then looked back at Minton.

“I believe for the record the state needs to offer some sort of explanation for this motion. We have chosen a jury and heard more than two days of testimony. Why is the state doing this at this stage, Mr. Minton?”

Smithson stood. He was a tall and thin man with a pale complexion. He was a prosecutorial specimen. Nobody wanted a fat man as district attorney and that was exactly what he hoped one day to be. He wore a charcoal gray suit with what had become his trademark: a maroon bow tie with matching handkerchief peeking from the suit’s breast pocket. The word among the defense pros was that a political advisor had told him to start building a recognizable media image so that when the time came to run, the voters would think they already knew him. This was one situation where he didn’t want the media carrying his image to the voters.

“If I may, Your Honor,” he said.

“The record will note the appearance of Assistant District Attorney John Smithson, head of the Van Nuys Division. Welcome, Jack. Go right ahead, please.”

“Judge Fullbright, it has come to my attention that in the interest of justice, the charges against Mr. Roulet should be dropped.”