I sat next to Louis Roulet at the defense table. We were alone. I had no second and no investigator behind me-out of some strange loyalty to Raul Levin I had not hired a replacement. I didn’t really need one, either. Levin had given me everything I needed. The trial and how it played out would serve as a last testament to his skills as an investigator.

In the first row of the gallery sat C. C. Dobbs and Mary Alice Windsor. In accordance with a pretrial ruling, the judge was allowing Roulet’s mother to be in the courtroom during opening statements only. Because she was listed as a defense witness, she would not be allowed to listen to any of the testimony that followed. She would remain in the hallway outside, with her loyal lapdog Dobbs at her side, until I called her to the stand.

Also in the first row but not seated next to them was my own support section: my ex-wife Lorna Taylor. She had gotten dressed up in a navy suit and white blouse. She looked beautiful and could have blended in easily with the phalanx of female attorneys who descended on the courthouse every day. But she was there for me and I loved her for it.

The rest of the rows in the gallery were sporadically crowded. There were a few print reporters there to grab quotes from the opening statements and a few attorneys and citizen onlookers. No TV had shown up. The trial had not yet drawn more than cursory attention from the public, and this was good. This meant our strategy of publicity containment had worked well.

Roulet and I were silent as we waited for the judge to take the bench and order the jury into the box so that we could begin. I was attempting to calm myself by rehearsing what I wanted to say to the jurors. Roulet was staring straight ahead at the State of California seal affixed to the front of the judge’s bench.

The courtroom clerk took a phone call, said a few words and then hung up.

“Two minutes, people,” he said loudly. “Two minutes.”

When a judge called ahead to the courtroom, that meant people should be in their positions and ready to go. We were. I glanced over at Ted Minton at the prosecution’s table and saw he was doing the same thing that I was doing. Calming himself by rehearsing. I leaned forward and studied the notes on the legal pad in front of me. Then Roulet unexpectedly leaned forward and almost right into me. He spoke in a whisper, even though it wasn’t necessary yet.

“This is it, Mick.”

“I know.”

Since the death of Raul Levin, my relationship with Roulet had been one of cold endurance. I put up with him because I had to. But I saw him as little as possible in the days and weeks before the trial, and spoke to him as little as possible once it started. I knew the one weakness in my plan was my own weakness. I feared that any interaction with Roulet could lead me into acting out my anger and desire to personally, physically avenge my friend. The three days of jury selection had been torture. Day after day I had to sit right next to him and listen to his condescending comments about prospective jurors. The only way I got through it was to pretend he wasn’t there.

“You ready?” he asked me.

“Trying to be,” I said. “Are you?”

“I’m ready. But I wanted to tell you something before we began.”

I looked at him. He was too close to me. It would have been invasive even if I loved him and not hated him. I leaned back.

“What?”

He followed me, leaning back next to me.

“You’re my lawyer, right?”

I leaned forward, trying to get away.

“Louis, what is this? We’ve been together on this more than two months and now we’re sitting here with a jury picked and ready for trial. You have paid me more than a hundred and fifty grand and you have to ask if I’m your lawyer? Of course I’m your lawyer. What is it? What is wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

He leaned forward and continued.

“I mean, like, if you’re my lawyer, I can tell you stuff and you have to hold it as a secret, even if it’s a crime I tell you about. More than one crime. It’s covered by the attorney-client relationship, right?”

I felt the low rumbling of upset in my stomach.

“Yes, Louis, that’s right-unless you are going to tell me about a crime about to be committed. In that case I can be relieved of the code of ethics and can inform the police so they can stop the crime. In fact, it would be my duty to inform them. A lawyer is an officer of the court. So what is it that you want to tell me? You just heard we got the two-minute warning. We’re about to start here.”

“I’ve killed people, Mick.”

I looked at him for a moment.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

He was right. I had heard him. And I shouldn’t have acted surprised. I already knew he had killed people. Raul Levin was among them and he had even used my gun-though I hadn’t figured out how he had defeated the GPS bracelet on his ankle. I was just surprised he had decided to tell me in such a matter-of-fact manner two minutes before his trial was called to order.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked. “I’m about to try to defend you in this thing and you -”

“Because I know you already know. And because I know what your plan is.”

“My plan? What plan?”

He smiled slyly at me.

“Come on, Mick. It’s simple. You defend me on this case. You do your best, you get paid the big bucks, you win and I walk away. But then, once it’s all over and you’ve got your money in the bank, you turn against me because I’m not your client anymore. You throw me to the cops so you can get Jesus Menendez out and redeem yourself.”

I didn’t respond.

“Well, I can’t let that happen,” he said quietly. “Now, I am yours forever, Mick. I am telling you I’ve killed people, and guess what? Martha Renteria was one of them. I gave her just what she deserved, and if you go to the cops or use what I’ve told you against me, then you won’t be practicing law for very long. Yes, you might succeed in raising Jesus from the dead. But I’ll never be prosecuted because of your misconduct. I believe it is called ‘fruit of the poisonous tree,’ and you are the tree, Mick.”

I still couldn’t respond. I just nodded again. Roulet had certainly thought it through. I wondered how much help he had gotten from Cecil Dobbs. He had obviously had somebody coach him on the law.

I leaned toward him and whispered.

“Follow me.”

I got up and walked quickly through the gate and toward the rear door of the courtroom. From behind I heard the clerk’s voice.

“Mr. Haller? We’re about to start. The judge -”

“One minute,” I called out without turning around.

I held one finger up as well. I then pushed through the doors into the dimly lit vestibule designed as a buffer to keep hallway sounds from the courtroom. A set of double doors on the other side led to the hallway. I moved to the side and waited for Roulet to step into the small space.

As soon as he came through the door I grabbed him and spun him into the wall. I held him pressed against it with both of my hands on his chest.

“What the fuck do you think you are doing?”

“Take it easy, Mick. I just thought we should know where we both -”

“You son of a bitch. You killed Raul and all he was doing was working for you! He was trying to help you!”

I wanted to bring my hands up to his neck and choke him out on the spot.

“You’re right about one thing. I am a son of a bitch. But you are wrong about everything else, Mick. Levin wasn’t trying to help me. He was trying to bury me and he was getting too close. He got what he deserved for that.”

I thought about Levin’s last message on my phone at home. I’ve got Jesus’s ticket out of the Q. Whatever it was that he had found, it had gotten him killed. And it had gotten him killed before he could deliver the information to me.

“How did you do it? You’re confessing everything to me here, then I want to know how you did it. How’d you beat the GPS? Your bracelet showed you weren’t even near Glendale.”