Page 72 of The Lincoln Lawyer

“You know that video you got from the bar?” I asked. “What it shows is a killer at work. Just like you, he saw that Mr. X was left-handed. When he attacked Reggie Campo he punched with his left and then held the knife with his left. This guy knows what he is doing. He saw an opportunity and took it. Reggie Campo is the luckiest woman alive.”

“You think there are others? Other murders, I mean.”

“Maybe. That’s what I want you to look into. Check out all the knife murders of women in the last few years. Then get the victim’s pictures and see if they match the physical profile. And don’t look at unsolved cases only. Martha Renteria was supposedly among the closed cases.”

Levin leaned forward.

“Look, man, I’m not going to throw a net over this like the police can. You have to bring the cops in on this. Or go to the FBI. They got their serial killer specialists.”

I shook my head.

“Can’t. He’s my client.”

“Menendez is your client, too, and you have to get him out.”

“I’m working on that. And that’s why I need you to do this for me, Mish.”

We both knew that I called him Mish whenever I needed something that crossed the lines of our professional relationship into the friendship that was underneath it.

“What about a hitman?” Levin said. “That would solve our problems.”

I nodded, knowing he was being facetious.

“Yeah, that would work,” I said. “It would make the world a better place, too. But it probably wouldn’t spring Menendez.”

Levin leaned forward again. Now he was serious.

“I’ll do what I can, Mick, but I don’t think this is the right way to go. You can declare conflict of interest and dump Roulet. Then work on jumping Menendez out of the Q.”

“Jump him out with what?”

“The ID he made on the six-pack. That was solid. He didn’t know Roulet from a hole in the ground and he goes and picks him out of the pack.”

“Who is going to believe that? I’m his lawyer! Nobody from the cops to the clemency board is going to believe I didn’t set that up. This is all theory, Raul. You know it and I know it to be true but we can’t prove a damn thing.”

“What about the wounds? They could match the knife they got from the Campo case to Martha Renteria’s wounds.”

I shook my head.

“She was cremated. All they have is the descriptions and photos from the autopsy and it wouldn’t be conclusive. It’s not enough. Besides, I can’t be seen as the guy pushing this on my own client. If I turn against a client, then I turn against all my clients. It can’t look that way or I’ll lose them all. I have to figure something else out.”

“I think you’re wrong. I think—”

“For now I go along as if I don’t know any of this, you understand? But you look into it. All of it. Keep it separate from Roulet so I don’t have a discovery issue. File it all under Jesus Menendez and bill the time to me on that case. You understand?”

Before Levin could answer, the waitress brought my third martini. I waved it away.

“I don’t want it. Just the check.”

“Well, I can’t pour it back into the bottle,” she said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it. I just don’t want to drink it. Give it to the guy who makes the cheese bread and just bring me the check.”

She turned and walked away, probably annoyed that I hadn’t offered the drink to her. I looked back at Levin. He looked like he was pained by everything that had been revealed to him. I knew just how he felt.

“Some franchise I got, huh?”

“Yeah. How are you going to be able to act straight with this guy when you have to deal with him and meantime you’re digging out this other shit on the side?”