7
I had fifteen minutes with my client before he would be herded into the courtroom with several other custodies for first appearances before a judge. He was in a crowded holding cell off the arraignment court and I had to lean close to the bars and whisper so the other men in the cell wouldn’t hear.
“Andre, we don’t have a lot of time here,” I said. “In a few minutes you’ll be taken into the courtroom to see the judge. It will be short and sweet, the charges will be read and they’ll set a date for your arraignment.”
“Don’t I plead not guilty?”
“No, not yet. This is just a formality. After you get arrested they have forty-eight hours to put you before a judge to get the ball rolling. This will be very brief.”
“What about bail?”
“You won’t make bail unless that gold brick you sent us is just one of many. You’re charged with murder. They will set bail, but on the low end it will probably be two million, maybe two and a half. That’s a two-hundred-thousand-dollar bond. You have that much gold? You don’t get it back, you know.”
He slumped and pressed his forehead against the bars that separated us.
“I can’t stand this place.”
“I know, but you’ve got no choice right now.”
“You said you could get me into another module?”
“Sure, I can do that. Give me the word and I’ll get you on keep-away status.”
“Do it. I don’t want to go back there.”
I leaned in closer and whispered lower.
“Did something happen to you last night in there?”
“No, but there are animals in there. I don’t want to be there.”
I didn’t tell him that no matter where he was placed in the jail complex, he wasn’t going to like it. The animals were everywhere.
“I’ll bring it up with the judge,” I said instead. “Now I want to ask you a couple things about the case before we go in there, okay?”
“Go ahead. You got the gold?”
“Yes, I got the gold. More than we asked for but it will all go toward your defense, and if it doesn’t get used, the remainder goes back to you. I have a receipt for you if you want it, but I don’t think you want to carry around a piece of paper in Men’s Central that shows you’ve got money.”
“No, you’re right. Keep it for now.”
“Okay. Now the questions. Did Giselle have any kind of security that you know about?”
He shook his head like he wasn’t sure but then answered.
“She had a burglar alarm but I don’t know if she ever used it and I—”
“No, I mean people. Did she have like a bodyguard or somebody that ran security for her when she went out on calls or dates or whatever you call them?”
“Oh, no, none that she ever told me about. She had a driver and she could call him if there was a problem but he usually just stayed in the car.”
“My next question was about the driver. Who was he and how do I reach him?”
“His name is Max and he was a friend of hers. He had a different job during the day and drove her at night. She basically just worked at nights.”
“Max what?”
“I don’t know his last name. I never even met him. She just mentioned him from time to time. She said he was her muscle.”
“But he didn’t go in with her.”
“Not that I know of.”
I noticed another prisoner was hovering behind my client’s left shoulder. He was trying to listen in on our conversation.
“Let’s move down,” I said.
We moved down the bars to the other side of the holding cell. The eavesdropper stayed behind.
“Okay,” I said. “Tell me about the phone call you made to the hotel to check out the Julia Roberts client. How did that whole thing go down?”
I checked my watch.
“Quickly,” I added.
“Well, he made contact through the website. I told him the prices and—”
“Was this by e-mail?”
“No, he called. From the hotel. I saw it on the caller ID.”
“Okay, go on. He called from the hotel, then what?”
“I told him her price and he said that was fine, and so we set it up for nine thirty that night. He gave me the room number and I told him I needed to call back to confirm. He said fine, so I did.”
“You called the hotel and asked for room eight thirty-seven?”
“That’s right. They connected me and it was the same guy. I told him she’d be there at nine thirty.”
“Okay, and you never dealt with this guy before?”
“No, never.”
“How did he pay?”