Page 157 of The Lincoln Lawyer


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He pronounced Roulet’s name wrong.

“Is that all the explanation you can offer, Jack?” the judge asked.

Smithson deliberated before answering. While there were no reporters present, the record of the hearing would be public and his words viewable later.

“Judge, it has come to my attention that there were some irregularities in the investigation and subsequent prosecution. This office is founded upon the belief in the sanctity of our justice system. I personally safeguard that in the Van Nuys Division and take it very, very seriously. And so it is better for us to dismiss a case than to see justice possibly compromised in any way.”

“Thank you, Mr. Smithson. That is refreshing to hear.”

The judge wrote another note and then looked back down at us.

“The state’s motion is granted,” she said. “All charges against Louis Roulet are dismissed with prejudice. Mr. Roulet, you are discharged and free to go.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” I said.

“We still have a jury returning at one o’clock,” Fullbright said. “I will gather them and explain that the case has been resolved. If any of you attorneys wish to come back then, I am sure they will have questions for you. However, it is not required that you be back.”

I nodded but didn’t say I would be back. I wouldn’t be. The twelve people who had been so important to me for the last week had just dropped off the radar. They were now as meaningless tome as the drivers going the other way on the freeway. They had gone by and I was finished with them.

The judge left the bench and Smithson was the first one out of the courtroom. He had nothing to say to Minton or me. His first priority was to distance himself from this prosecutorial catastrophe. I looked over and saw Minton’s face had lost all color. I assumed that I would soon see his name in the yellow pages. He would not be retained by the DA and he would join the ranks of the defense pros, his first felony lesson a costly one.

Roulet was at the rail, leaning over to hug his mother. Dobbs had a hand on his shoulder in a congratulatory gesture, but the family lawyer had not recovered from Windsor’s harsh rebuke in the hallway.

When the hugs were over, Roulet turned to me and with hesitation shook my hand.

“I wasn’t wrong about you,” he said. “I knew you were the one.”

“I want the gun,” I said, deadpan, my face showing no joy in the victory just achieved.

“Of course you do.”

He turned back to his mother. I hesitated a moment and then turned back to the defense table. I opened my briefcase to return all the files to it.

“Michael?”

I turned and it was Dobbs reaching a hand across the railing. I shook it and nodded.

“You did good,” Dobbs said, as if I needed to hear it from him. “We all appreciate it greatly.”

“Thanks for the shot. I know you were shaky about me at the start.”

I was courteous enough not to mention Windsor’s outburst in the hallway and what she had said about him backstabbing me.

“Only because I didn’t know you,” Dobbs said. “Now I do. Now I know who to recommend to my clients.”

“Thank you. But I hope your kind of clients never need me.”

He laughed.

“Me, too!”

Then it was Mary Windsor’s turn. She extended her hand across the bar.

“Mr. Haller, thank you for my son.”

“You’re welcome,” I said flatly. “Take care of him.”

“I always do.”