The Reversal

“And didn’t you tell her a story that is quite different from the one you just recounted?”

“But I wasn’t under oath or nothin’ then.”

“That’s right, sir, but you did tell Karen a different story, true?”

“I might’ve. I can’t remember.”

“Didn’t you tell Karen at that time that Ms. Gleason had told you that her stepfather had killed her sister?”

Haller was up with the objection, arguing that not only was Royce leading the witness but that there was no foundation for the question and that counsel was trying to get testimony to the jury that the witness was not willing to give. The judge sustained the objection.

“Your Honor,” Royce said, “the defense would like to request a short break to confer with its witness.”

Before Haller could object the judge denied the request.

“By this witness’s own testimony this morning, you have had since March second to prepare for this moment. We go to lunch in thirty-five minutes. You can confer with him then, Mr. Royce. Ask your next question.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.”

Royce looked down at his legal pad. From Bosch’s angle he could tell he was looking at a blank page.

“Mr. Royce?” the judge prompted.

“Yes, Your Honor, just rechecking a date. Mr. Roman, why did you call my office on March second?”

“Well, I seen something about the case on the TV. In fact, it was you. I seen you talking about it. And I knew something about it from knowing Sarah like I did. So I called up to see if I was needed.”

“And then you came to my offices, correct?”

“Yeah, that’s right. You sent that lady to pick me up.”

“And when you came to my office, you told me a different story than you are telling the jury now, isn’t that right?”

“Like I said, I don’t remember exactly what I said then. I’m a drug addict, sir. I say a lot of things I don’t remember and don’t really mean. All I remember is that the woman who came said she’d put me up in a nicer hotel and I had no money for a place at that time. So I sort of said what she told me to say.”

Bosch made a fist and bounced it once on his thigh. This was an unmitigated disaster for the defense. He looked over at Jessup to see if he realized how bad things had just turned for him. And Jessup seemed to sense it. He turned and looked back at Bosch, his eyes dark with growing anger and realization. Bosch leaned forward and slowly raised a finger. He dragged it across his throat.

Jessup turned away.

Thirty-nine

Thursday, April 8, 11:30 A.M.

I have had many good moments in court. I’ve stood next to men at the moment they knew that they were going free because of my good work. I have stood in the well in front of a jury and felt the tingle of truth and righteousness roll down my spine. And I have destroyed liars without mercy on the witness stand. These are the moments I live for in my professional life. But few of them measured up to the moment I watched Jason Jessup’s defense unravel with the testimony of Edward Roman.

As Roman crashed and burned on the stand, my ex-wife and prosecution partner squeezed my arm to the point of pain. She couldn’t help it. She knew it, too. This was not something Royce was going to recover from. A key part of what was already going to be a fragile defense was crumbling before his eyes. It wasn’t so much that his witness had pulled a one-eighty on him. It was the jury seeing a defense that was now obviously built upon a liar. The jury would not forgive this. It was over and I believed everyone in the courtroom-from the judge to the gadflies in the back row of the gallery-knew it. Jessup was going down.

I turned and looked back to share the moment with Bosch. After all, the silent witness maneuver had been his idea. And I caught him giving Jessup the throat slash-the internationally recognized sign that it was over.

I looked back to the front of the court.

“Mr. Royce,” the judge said. “Are you continuing with this witness?”

“A moment, Your Honor,” Royce said.

It was a valid question. Royce had few ways with which to go with Roman at this point. He could cut his losses and simply end the questioning. Or he could ask the judge to declare Roman to be a hostile witness-a move that was always professionally embarrassing when the hostile witness is one you called to the stand. But it was a move that would allow Royce more latitude in asking leading questions that explored what Roman had initially said to the defense investigator and why he was dissembling now. But this was fraught with danger, especially since this initial interview had not been recorded or documented in an effort to hide Roman during the discovery process.

“Mr. Royce!” the judge barked. “I consider the court’s time quite valuable. Please ask your next question or I will turn the witness over to Mr. Haller for cross-examination.”

Royce nodded to himself as he came to a decision.

“I’m sorry, Your Honor. But no further questions at this time.”