We stood as the jury filed out, and Andre needed to grab me by the arm to pull himself up.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Fine. You did good today, Mickey. Real good.”
“I hope so.”
The deputies came for him then. He would be taken back to the courtside cell, where he would change from his baggy suit into an orange jumpsuit. He would then be put on a bus and shipped back to Men’s Central. If there were any delays in the process, he would miss chow time in the jail and go to sleep hungry.
“Just a few more days, Andre.”
“I know. I’m hanging in.”
I nodded and they led him away. I watched them take him through the steel door.
“Isn’t that touching?”
I turned. It was Lankford. He had come up to the defense table. I looked over his shoulder at Forsythe. The prosecutor was standing over his table, trying to fit a thick stack of files into his thin attaché case. He was not paying attention to Lankford and me. Behind him, the courtroom had emptied. Lorna had gone down to get the car. One of Moya’s men had followed her while the other had moved out into the hallway to wait for me. Cisco and Jennifer had already left the courtroom.
“It is touching, Lankford,” I said. “You know why? Because that’s an innocent man, and you don’t see too many of those around here.”
I raised my hand in a who-am-I-kidding gesture.
“But of course you know that better than almost anybody, don’t you? I mean the part about him being innocent.”
Lankford shook his head like he didn’t get it.
“You really think you’re going to get him off with this mystery man defense?”
I smiled as I started putting my own files and notes into my briefcase.
“We’re actually calling it the ‘Cat in the Hat’ defense. And believe me, it’s a lock.”
He said nothing in response and I paused my efforts to look at him.
“One-Echo-Robert-five-six-seven-six.”
“What’s that, your mother’s phone number?”
“No, Lankford, it’s your license plate number.”
I saw a split-second change in his eyes. It was recognition or maybe fear. I kept going, improvising but following some instinctual path to an unknown destination.
“It’s a city of cameras. You should have lost the plate before you started following her. That next witness the judge wanted to hear today? He’s bringing video from outside the hotel, and he’s going to identify you as the cat in the hat.”
The look in Lankford’s eyes wasn’t fleeting anymore. It was the vicious look of a cornered animal.
“And then you’re going to have to explain to the jury why you were following Gloria Dayton before she was murdered and before you were on the case.”
Lankford suddenly moved into me, grabbing my tie to jerk me away from the table. But the tie came off in his hand and he stumbled backwards off balance.
“Hey! Is there a problem?”
Forsythe had taken notice. Lankford recovered and I looked at Forsythe.
“No, no problem.”
I calmly took my tie back from Lankford. His back was to Forsythe. He stared at me with those black-marble eyes. I started clipping my tie back on and leaned in to whisper.
“Lankford, I’m going to go out on a limb here. I don’t think you’re a killer. I’m guessing you got into something way over your head and you got pushed. Used. You found her for somebody and he did the rest. Maybe you knew what was coming, maybe not. Either way, you’re going to let an innocent man go down for it?”
“Fuck you, Haller. Your client is scum. All of them are.”
Forsythe walked up to us then.
“I’m leaving now, gentlemen. I ask again, is there a problem here? Do I have to stay here and babysit you two?”
Neither of us broke our stares to look at the prosecutor. I answered.
“We’re fine. I’m just explaining to . . . Investigator Lankford the reason I wear clip-ons.”
“Fascinating. Good night.”
“Good night.”
Forsythe went out through the gate and down the middle aisle of the empty courtroom. I picked up with Lankford where I had left off before the interruption.
“You’ve got less than twenty-four hours to figure out how you want to play this. Tomorrow your buddy Marco is going to go down. You can go down with him or you can get smart and get out of this in one piece. There is a way, you know.”
Lankford slowly shook his head.
“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Haller. You never do. You don’t know who you’re dealing with. In fact, you don’t know shit.”
I nodded as though I felt I had been properly rebuked.
“Then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I clapped him on the arm like I was saying good-bye to a good friend.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” he said.