“I wasn’t supposed to be there that day,” Elliot said. “I was told to stay away, to make sure I had a rock-solid alibi.”

“Why’d you go, then?”

His eyes held on mine before he answered.

“I still loved her in some way. Somehow I still did and I wanted her. I wanted to fight for her. I went out there to try to stop it, maybe be the hero, save the day and win her back. I don’t know. I didn’t have a plan. I just didn’t want it to happen. So I went out there… but I was too late. They were both dead when I got there. Terrible…”

Elliot was staring at the memory, perhaps the scene in the bedroom in Malibu. I dropped my eyes down to the white tablecloth in front of me. A defense attorney never expects his client to tell him the whole truth. Parts of the truth, yes. But never the cold, hard and complete truth. I had to think that there were things Elliot had left out. But what he had told me was enough for now. It was time to talk about the bribe.

“And then came Jerry Vincent,” I prompted.

His eyes came back into focus and he looked at me.

“Yes.”

“Tell me about the bribe.”

“I don’t have a lot to tell. My corporate attorney hooked me up with Jerry and he was fine. We worked out the fee arrangement and then he came to me – this was early on, at least five months ago – and he said he had been approached by someone who could salt the jury. You know, put someone on the jury who would be for us. No matter what happened he would be a holdout for acquittal but he would also work for the defense on the inside – during deliberations. He would be a talker, a skilled persuader – a con man. The catch was that once it was in play, the trial would have to stay on schedule so that this person would end up on my jury.”

“And you and Jerry took the offer.”

“We took it. This was five months ago. At the time, I didn’t have much of a defense. I didn’t kill my wife but it seemed the odds were stacked against me. We had no magic bullet… and I was scared. I was innocent but could see that I was going to be convicted. So we took the offer.”

“How much?”

“A hundred thousand up front. Like you found out, Jerry paid it through his fees. He inflated his fee and I paid him and then he paid for the juror. Then it was going to be another hundred for a hung jury and two-fifty for an acquittal. Jerry told me that these people had done it before.”

“You mean fixed a jury?”

“Yes, that’s what he said.”

I thought maybe the FBI had gotten wind of the earlier fixes and that was why they had come to Vincent.

“Were they Jerry’s trials that were fixed before?” I asked.

“He didn’t say and I didn’t ask.”

“Did he ever say anything about the FBI sniffing around your case?”

Elliot leaned back, as if I had just said something repulsive.

“No. Is that what’s going on?”

He looked very concerned.

“I don’t know, Walter. I’m just asking questions here. But Jerry told you he was going to delay the trial, right?”

Elliot nodded.

“Yes. That Monday. He said we didn’t need the fix. He had the magic bullet and he was going to win the trial without the sleeper on the jury.”

“And that got him killed.”

“It had to be. I don’t think these kinds of people just let you change your mind and pull out of something like this.”

“What kind of people? The organization?”

“I don’t know. Just these kinds of people. Whoever does this sort of thing.”

“Did you tell anyone that Jerry was going to delay the case?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

“Then, who did Jerry tell?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Well, who did Jerry make the deal with? Who did he bribe?”

“I don’t know that either. He wouldn’t tell me. Said it would be better if I didn’t know names. Same thing I’m telling you.”

It was a little late for that. I had to end this and get away by myself to think. I glanced at my untouched plate of fish and wondered if I should take it to go for Patrick or if someone back in the kitchen would eat it.

“You know,” Elliot said, “not to put any more pressure on you, but if I get convicted, I’m dead.”

I looked at him.

“The organization?”

He nodded.

“A guy gets busted and he becomes a liability. Normally, they wipe him out before he even gets to court. They don’t take the chance that he’ll try to cut a deal. But I still have control of their money, you see. They wipe me out and they lose it all. Archway, the real estate, everything. So they’re hanging back and watching. If I get off, then we go back to normal and everything’s good. If I get convicted, I’m too much of a liability and I won’t last two nights in prison. They’ll get to me in there.”

It’s always good to know exactly what the stakes are but I probably could have gone without the reminder.

“We’re dealing with a higher authority here,” Elliot continued. “It goes way beyond things like attorney-client confidentiality. That’s small change, Mick. The things I’ve told you tonight can go no further than this table. Not into court or anywhere else. What I’ve told you here could get you killed in a heartbeat. Just like Jerry. Remember that.”

Elliot had spoken matter-of-factly and concluded the statement by calmly draining the wine from his glass. But the threat was implicit in every word he had said. I would have no trouble remembering it.

Elliot waved down a waiter and asked for the check.

Forty-two

I was thankful that my client liked his martinis before dinner and his Chardonnay with it. I wasn’t sure I would have gotten what I got from Elliot without the alcohol smoothing the way and loosening his tongue. But afterward I didn’t want him running the risk of getting pulled over on a DUI in the middle of a murder trial. I insisted that he not drive home. But Elliot insisted he wasn’t going to leave his $400,000 Maybach overnight in a downtown garage. So I had Patrick take us to the car and then I drove Elliot home while Patrick followed.

“This car cost four hundred grand?” I asked him. “I’m scared to drive it.”

“A little less, actually.”

“Yeah, well, do you have anything else to drive? When I told you not to take the limo, I didn’t expect you’d be tooling up to your murder trial in one of these. Think about the impressions you are putting out there, Walter. This doesn’t look good. Remember what you told me the first day we met? About having to win outside of the courtroom too? A car like this doesn’t help you with that.”

“My other car is a Carrera GT.”

“Great. What’s that worth?”

“More than this one.”

“Tell you what, why don’t you borrow one of my Lincolns. I even have one that has a plate that says NOT GUILTY. You can drive that.”

“That’s okay. I have access to a nice modest Mercedes. Is that all right?”

“Perfect. Walter, despite everything you told me tonight, I’m going to do my best for you. I think we have a good shot at this.”

“Then, you believe I’m innocent.”

I hesitated.

“I believe you didn’t shoot your wife and Rilz. I’m not sure that makes you innocent, but put it this way: I don’t think you’re guilty of the charges you’re facing. And that’s all I need.”

He nodded.

“Maybe that’s the best I can ask for. Thank you, Mickey.”

After that we didn’t talk much as I concentrated on not wrecking the car, which was worth more than most people’s houses.

Elliot lived in Beverly Hills in a gated estate in the flats south of Sunset. He pushed a button on the car’s ceiling that opened the steel entry gate and we slipped through, Patrick coming in right behind me in the Lincoln. We got out and I gave Elliot his keys. He asked if I wanted to come in for another drink and I reminded him that I didn’t drink. He stuck out his hand and I shook it and it felt awkward, as if we were sealing some sort of deal on what had been revealed earlier. I said good night and got into the back of my Lincoln.