“Judge, I wasn’t paying much attention to the jury,” Cisco said. “That’s not really my job. I wasn’t in court for jury selection, and during the trial I was dealing with getting witnesses to and from court and other duties. When she came to the door, she had a do-rag on her head and a robe, and I just didn’t recognize her.”
Ruhlin shook her head in frustration.
“Then what brought you to her door last night?” Ruhlin asked.
“I got a text,” Cisco said. “On WhatsApp.”
“It was encrypted?”
“Yes.”
“And that didn’t make you suspicious?”
“It did, but we get a lot of anonymous tips, Your Honor. I mean, that’s my job—to run these down.”
“And what did this tip say?”
“The texter said they had important information regarding a witness in the case. I responded and asked what witness, and the answer wasWiseacre,and that made it seem like it might be legitimate.”
“How so?”
“There’s a witness named Nathan Whittaker. He’s a coder at Tidalwaiv, and we learned that his nickname is Wiseacre. Whittaker, Wiseacre—it’s close.”
“I understand. Go on.”
“Well, seeing that nickname in the text gave it enough credibility that I decided I should check it out. I asked for a time and place to meet and I got that address.”
He pointed at the laptop screen.
“I asked for a name and the texter gave me Robin,” Cisco said. “No last name. I went over there at the meeting time, six thirty, as you can see, and the woman who answered the door said her name was Robin, but she didn’t know what I was talking about or why I was there. I didn’t recognize her and she apparently didn’t remember me from court. At that point I thought I had bad info or something and left.”
“And you didn’t tell any of this to Mr. Haller?” Ruhlin asked.
“He went home yesterday afternoon to finish working on something, so I just went to the meeting. I usually don’t bother him with stuff like this unless it pans out. This didn’t, so I didn’t even mention it. If she had told me she was a juror, I would obviously have soundedthe alarm and said I was set up. But she didn’t, and I didn’t know about any of this till right now.”
Ruhlin stared at Cisco for a long moment, apparently trying to judge his truthfulness, before she finally spoke.
“Would you be willing to let me look at these texts you received?” she asked.
“Uh, sure,” Cisco said hesitantly.
He looked at me as he leaned to his left to reach into his back pocket. I nodded my approval even though he didn’t need it. He pulled out his phone, opened WhatsApp, and located the texts in question. He handed the phone to the judge, screen up. She took it, read the texts, and nodded.
“And you say this was encrypted,” she said. “It can’t be traced?”
“Well, when I realized I was at the wrong address, I called that number,” Cisco said. “The line was dead—number no longer valid. But I have a… friend who, uh, can run down numbers for me. I gave it to him and he said the text came from a burner phone. So, yeah, we’re not going to be able to trace it.”
“Okay, Mr.… uh…”
“Wojciechowski—pronounced like ‘Watch your car key.’ My father always said that when people had trouble with it.”
“Thank you, Mr. Watch-your-car-key. I think you can go now. And can you ask the deputy marshal to step back in?”
“Sure, Judge. Thank you.”
The big man stood up and gave me a nod. He returned his chair to the meeting table on his way to the door. He left and the marshal came in.
“You can go now, Jaime,” the judge said. “Everything is fine.”
