“Wait. What?”
“A phone issued inside the European Union.” The young man gave me a look like I’d just fallen off the turnip truck.
Alain said, “How did you know it was not an American iPhone?”
“I heard you speaking French on it while you were in line. I saw how you’re dressed a little differently. You know, funny leatherloafers, shirt that’s cut a little different with the flowers on it. The way you keep your reading glasses around your neck with that white strap.”
Alain said, “The flowers are a nod to Van Gogh.”
The kid said, “They look more like something Cézanne might paint.”
Alain and I both gave our guest an appraising look. Interesting observation for a sixteen-year-old petty thief.
I said, “You’re pretty observant, Jake. Please tell me you’re still in school.”
“Yes, ma’am. Honor roll. I do a little tech work on the side. There’s nothing I can’t dotoorwithan iPhone. Are you going to arrest me?”
“Should I?”
“I broke the law. But I wanted a European iPhone.”
“That’s the second time you’ve said that. What’s so special about European iPhones?”
“They’re, like, a lot less hassle to break into. And I need something I can use to bypass the security glitch at the housing office so my grandma can stay where she is.”
I cut my eyes to him and said, “Is this a load of crap?”
“No, ma’am.”
I believed him. He was clearly very bright. I looked over at Alain, who gave me a little nod. Then I looked back at Jake and said, “I’m going to take down your information. And if I get stuck sometime with a technical issue on an iPhone, you’re going to fix it for me. Does that sound like a fair sentence?”
Jake gave me his phone number and address, then said, “Any time you call me, I’ll do whatever you need.”
Despite how we’d met, I had to admit I really liked this kid.
CHAPTER73
YUKI CASTELLANO SATat the prosecution’s broad walnut table as the judge called for recess. Her second chair, Nick Gaines, gathered up the papers on the table. The last witness of the morning, a weapons expert, had explained what kind of damage a 9mm bullet would do to a victim. It had been graphic and had left Yuki a little queasy. Fortunately, the judge had just released them for a little over two hours.
Yuki stood and started to head out of the courtroom. Most of the spectators had already bolted for lunch. Leaning against the rear wall was a hulking figure she knew all too well.
She noticed his new Brooks Brothers suit. It was rare he could wear anything off the rack. At six foot four and generally over 300 pounds, Yuki’s boss, District Attorney Leonard “Red Dog” Parisi, usually had a hard time buying off the rack. But following his last heart attack, Parisi had dropped a little weight and was probably sitting at somewhere around 280.
As Yuki approached, Parisi said, “Big cases, big problems. Little cases, little problems.”
She smiled at the old saying. “No cases, no problems.”
“I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job,” the DA told her. “Drug cases with multiple defendants are never easy. And having Angela Torres leading the defense only complicates things. I don’t think I’ve ever met a lawyer with a more misleading first name.”
That comment made her smile. Parisi in general tended to make her smile. His wiry red hair had a certain effect too. He wasn’t necessarily paternal, but somehow he still gave her that comfort.
Parisi stepped to the side and slipped onto one of the spectator benches. He motioned with his head for Yuki to join him. She glanced around the courtroom to make sure no one was still there. They were alone.
Parisi said, “I had a drug case years ago that lasted three and a half weeks. TheChronicleblasted me constantly, claiming I was unfairly targeting the dealer. I took it on the chin almost every day.”
“Was this the Ronald Jackson case? Jackson was convicted. You were vindicated.”
“My point is, you can never tell what’s going to happen in a trial. Or how people are going to perceive it. You’re doing a good job here. Don’t change how you approach it.”
