The Fifth Witness Part 8

"I still have a few other files to look at. I have court tomorrow."

"For the murder case?"

"No, other cases."

"Like where you're trying to let people stay in their houses?"

"That's right."

"How come there are so many cases like that?"

Out of the mouths of babes.

"Greed, honey. It all comes down to greed on everybody's part."

I looked at her to see if that would suffice but she didn't go back to her homework. She looked at me expecting more, a fourteen-year-old who was interested in what most of the country was not.

"Well, what happens is that it takes a lot of money to buy a house or a condo most of the time. That's why so many people rent their homes instead. Most people who buy a home put down a big chunk of money, but they almost never have enough to buy the whole house, so they go to the bank for a loan. The bank decides if they have enough money and make enough money to pay back the loan, which is called a mortgage. So if everything looks good, they buy the home they want and pay back the mortgage with monthly payments for many years. Does this make sense?"

"You mean like they pay rent to the bank."

"Sort of. But when you rent from a landlord you don't get any ownership. There is supposed to be ownership involved when you have a mortgage. It is your home and they say the American dream is to own your own home."

"Do you own yours?"

"I do. And your mom owns hers."

She nodded but I wasn't so sure we were talking at a level understandable to a fourteen-year-old. She didn't see much of the American dream in her parents having separate mortgages to go with their separate addresses.

"Okay, so a while back they started making it easier to buy a home. And soon practically anybody who walked into a bank or went to see a mortgage broker was being given a loan on a home. There was a lot of fraud and corruption and there were a lot of loans given to people who shouldn't have been given them. Some people lied to get loans and sometimes it was the loan makers who lied. We're talking about millions of loans, Hay, and when you have that much going on, there are not enough people or rules to control it all."

"Was it like n.o.body made anybody pay?"

"There was some of that but it was mostly that people were taking on more than they could handle. And these loans had interest rates that changed. These rates dictated how much the home owner had to pay each month and they could go up by a lot. Sometimes they had what's called a balloon payment where you have to pay it all back at the end of five years. To make a long and complicated story short, the country's economy went down and the values of the homes went down with it. It became a crisis because millions of people in the country couldn't pay for the houses they bought and they couldn't sell them because they were worth less than what was owed on them. But the banks and other lenders and these investment syndicates that held all the mortgages didn't really care about that. They just wanted their money back. So when people couldn't pay they started taking their houses."

"So those people hire you."

"Some of them do. But there are millions of foreclosures going on. These lenders all want their money back and so some of them do bad things and some of them hire people to do bad things. They lie and cheat and they take away people's houses without doing it fairly or under the law. And that's where I come in."

I looked at her. I had probably lost her already. I pulled over the second stack of files I had on the table and opened the top one. I spoke as I read.

"Okay, now here's one. This family bought a house six years ago and the monthly payment was nine hundred dollars. Two years later when the s.h.i.t started to hit the-"

"Dad!"

"Sorry. Two years later when things started going wrong in this country their interest rate went up and so did their payment. At the same time, the husband lost his job as a school bus driver because he had an accident. So the husband and wife went to the bank and said, 'Hey, we have a problem. Can we change or restructure our loan so we can still pay for our house?' This is called loan modification and it's pretty much a joke. These people did the right thing, going in like that, but the bank led them on and said, 'Yes, we'll work with you. You keep paying what you can while we go to work on this.' So they paid what they could but it wasn't enough. They waited and waited but they never heard anything from the bank. That is, until they got the notice in the mail that they were being foreclosed on. So it's this kind of stuff that is wrong and I try to do something about it. It's David and Goliath stuff, Hay. The giant financial inst.i.tutions are running roughshod over people and they don't have too many guys like me standing up for them."

It was during my explanation to my young daughter that I finally realized why I had been drawn to this particular practice of law. Yes, some of my clients were just gaming the system. They were charlatans no better than the banks they were taking on. But some of my clients were the downtrodden and disadvantaged. They were the true underdogs in society and I wanted to stand for them and keep them in their homes for as long as I possibly could.

Hayley had raised her pencil and was itching to go back to work as soon as I dismissed her. She was polite that way and must have gotten it from her mother.

"Anyway, that's what it's all about. You can go back to work now. You want something else to drink or a dessert?"

"Dad, pancakes are like dessert."

She had braces and had chosen lime green bands. When she spoke my attention was constantly drawn to her teeth.

"Oh, right, yeah. Then what about something else to drink? More milk?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Okay."

I went back to work too and separated the three foreclosure files in front of me. I had been getting so much business off the radio ads that we had been bundling court appearances. That is, trying to schedule together hearings and appearances on all cases that I had before a particular judge. In the morning I had three hearings before Judge Alfred Byrne in the downtown county courthouse. All three were defenses based on claims of wrongful foreclosure and fraud perpetrated by the lender or the loan-servicing agent employed by the lender.

In each of the cases I had stayed foreclosure with my court filings. My clients were in their homes and not required to make their monthly payments. The other side viewed this as a scam equal in size to the foreclosure epidemic. I was despised by opposing counsel for perpetuating fraud myself and only delaying an inevitable outcome.

That was okay by me. When you come from the criminal defense bar, you are used to being despised.

"Am I too late for pancakes?"

I looked up to see my ex-wife slide into the booth next to our daughter. She landed a kiss on Hayley's cheek before the girl could go on the defensive. She was at that age. I wished Maggie had slid into my side of the booth and planted one on me. But I could wait.

I smiled at her as I started pulling all the files off the table to make room.

"It's never too late for pancakes," I said.

Eight.

Lisa Trammel was formally arraigned in Van Nuys the following Tuesday. It was a routine hearing intended to put her plea on record and to start the clock in order to meet the state's speedy-trial requirement. However, because my client was free on bail, we would likely be waiving speedy trial. There was no reason to hurry as long as she was breathing free air. The case would slowly build momentum like a summer storm and begin when the defense was fully prepared.

But the arraignment did serve the purpose of putting Lisa's forthright and emphatic "not guilty" on the court record as well as on video for the gathered media. Though attendance was lower than it was at her first appearance (the national media tends to retreat from the ongoing mundane processes of a case as it pa.s.ses through the justice system), the local media still showed in force and the fifteen-minute hearing was well doc.u.mented.

The case had been a.s.signed to Superior Court Judge Dario Morales for arraignment and preliminary hearing. The latter would be a perfunctory rubber-stamping of the charges. Lisa would undoubtedly be held to answer and the case would then be a.s.signed to another judge for the main event, the trial.

Though I had talked to her on the phone almost daily since her arrest, I had not seen Lisa in more than a week. She had declined my invitations to meet in person and now I knew why. She looked like a different woman when she showed up in court. Her hair had been cut into a stylish wave and her face looked both excessively pink and smooth. Whispers in the courtroom hinted that Lisa had had a Botox facial treatment in order to become more visually appealing.

I believed these physical changes, as well as the smart new suit Lisa was wearing, were the work of Herb Dahl. He and Lisa seemed inseparable and Dahl's involvement was becoming more and more troubling. He had begun incessantly referring producers and screenwriters to my office number. This left Lorna constantly deflecting their attempts to secure a piece of the Lisa Trammel story. Quick checks of the Internet Movie Database usually revealed these Herb Dahl referrals to be Hollywood hacks and bottom-feeders of the lowest caliber. It wasn't that we couldn't use a nice big infusion of Hollywood cash to defray our mounting costs, but these were all deal-now-pay-later people and that wouldn't do. Meantime, my own agent was out there trying to sew up a deal with an up-front fee that would cover a few salaries and the rent on an office and still leave enough to pay back Dahl and make him go away.

With almost any court hearing, the most important information and actions are not what ends up on the record. So, too, with Lisa's arraignment. After her plea was routinely put on record and Morales scheduled a status hearing for two weeks later, I told the judge that the defense had a number of motions to submit to the court for consideration. He welcomed them and I stepped forward and handed his clerk five separate motions. I gave Andrea Freeman copies as well.

The first three motions had been prepared by Aronson after her in-depth review of the LAPD's search-warrant application, the video of Detective Kurlen interviewing Lisa Trammel, and the questions regarding Miranda and when Lisa was actually placed under arrest. Aronson had found inconsistencies, procedural errors and exaggerations of fact. She drew up motions to suppress, asking that the taped interview be disallowed in the case and that all evidence gathered from the search of the defendant's home be excluded as well.

The motions were well thought out and cogently written. I was proud of Aronson and pleased with myself for seeing her as a diamond in the rough when her resume had crossed my desk. But the truth was I knew her motions didn't stand much of a chance. No judge elected to the bench wants to throw out the evidence in a murder case. Not if he wants the voting public to keep him on the bench. So the jurist will look for ways to maintain status quo and get the decisions on evidence before a jury.

Nevertheless, Aronson's motions played an important role in the defense strategy. Because accompanying them were two other motions. One sought to jump-start the discovery process by requesting defense access to all records and internal memoranda pertaining to Lisa Trammel and Mitch.e.l.l Bondurant held by WestLand Financial. The other was a motion compelling the prosecution to allow the defense to examine Trammel's laptop computer, cell phone and all personal doc.u.ments seized in the search of her home.

Since Morales would want to act equitably toward both defense and prosecution, my strategy was to push the judge toward a Solomonic solution. Split the baby. Dismiss the motions to suppress but give the defense the access requested in the other two motions.

Of course, both Morales and Freeman had been around the block a few times and would see this strategy coming from a mile away. Still, just because they knew what I was doing didn't mean they could stop it. Besides that, I had a sixth motion in my pocket that I had not yet filed with the court and it was going to be my ace in the hole.

Morales gave Freeman ten days to respond to the motions and adjourned the hearing, quickly moving on to his next case. A good judge always keeps the cases moving. I turned to Lisa and told her to wait for me in the hallway because I was going to speak to the prosecutor. I noticed Dahl waiting for her at the gate. He would be more than happy to escort her out. I decided to deal with him later and went over to the prosecution table. Freeman had her head down and was writing a note on a legal pad.

"Hey, Andy?"

She looked up at me. She had just begun to smile, expecting to see some friend who typically called her Andy. When she saw it was me the smile disappeared in an instant. I placed the sixth motion down on the table in front of her.

"Take a look at that when you have a minute. I'm going to file it tomorrow morning. Didn't want to inundate the court with a blizzard of paper today, you know? Tomorrow morning should be fine but I thought I'd give you a heads-up since it involves you."

"Me? What are you talking about?"

I didn't answer. I left her there and made my way through the gate and out of the courtroom. As I stepped through the double doors I saw my client and Herb Dahl already holding court in front of a deep semicircle of reporters and cameras. I quickly walked up behind Lisa, took her by the arm and pulled her away while she was in midsentence.

"Th-th-th-that's all, folks!" I said in my best Porky Pig.

Lisa struggled against my pull but I still managed to get her away from the pack and start walking her down the hallway.

"What are you doing?" she protested. "You are embarra.s.sing me!"

"Embarra.s.sing you? Lisa, you are embarra.s.sing yourself with that guy. I told you to drop him. Now, look at you, all done up like you're some kind of movie star. This is a trial, Lisa, not Entertainment Tonight. Entertainment Tonight."

"I was telling them my story."

I stopped walking when we were far enough away from the crowd not to be overheard.

"Lisa, you can't talk openly to the media like that. It can come back to bite you on the a.s.s."

"What are you talking about? It was a perfect opportunity to give my side of this. I'm being railroaded here and it's time to speak out. I told you, it's guilty people who don't speak."

"The problem is the DA has a media unit and they copy and record every story about you that is printed and aired. Everything you say, they have a copy of it. And if you ever change your story even slightly from one statement to the next then they've got you. They'll crucify you with it in front of a jury. What I'm trying to say is it's not worth the risk, Lisa. You should let me do the talking for you. But if you can't do that and really want to put out your story yourself then we'll prepare and rehea.r.s.e you and plan it with strategic hits in the media."

"But that's where Herb comes in. He was making sure I didn't-"

"Let me explain it again to you, Lisa. Herb Dahl is not your attorney and does not have your best interests as his priority. He has Herb Dahl's. Okay? I can't seem to get the message through to you. You have to cut him loose. He-"

"No! I can't! I won't! He's the only one who truly cares."

"Oh, that's really breaking my heart, Lisa. If he's the only one who cares about you what's he doing still talking to those people?"

I pointed to the knot of reporters and photographers. Sure enough, Dahl was still holding forth, feeding them whatever they needed.

"What is he saying to them, Lisa? Do you know? Because I sure as s.h.i.t don't and that's sort of funny because you're the defendant and I'm the defense attorney. Who's he?"

"He can speak for me," Lisa said.

As we watched Dahl pointing his finger to call on reporters, I saw the door to the courtroom we had just left swing open. Andrea Freeman strode out, holding my sixth motion in her hand, her eyes scanning the hallway. At first she zeroed in on the media knot but then she saw it was not me at the center of it. When her radar picked me up, she corrected her course and made a beeline right toward me. A few of the reporters called to her but she sharply waved them off with the doc.u.ment.

"Lisa, go over to one of those benches and sit down and wait for me. And don't talk to any reporters."

"What about-"

"Just do it."

As Lisa walked away Freeman came up on me. She was mad and I could see the fire in her eyes.

"What is this s.h.i.t, Haller?"

She held up the paper. I maintained a calm demeanor even as she stepped right into my personal s.p.a.ce.

"Well," I said, "I think it's pretty obvious what it is. It's a motion to have you dismissed from the case because you have a conflict of interest."

"I have a conflict of interest? What conflict?" have a conflict of interest? What conflict?"

"Look, Andy-I can call you Andy, right? I mean my daughter does so I should, too, don't you think?"

"Cut the s.h.i.t, Haller."

"Sure, I can do that. The conflict that I am objecting to is that you've been discussing this case with my ex-wife and-"

"Who happens to be a prosecutor working in the same office as me."

"That's true but these discussions haven't taken place in the office exclusively. In fact, they've taken place at yoga and in front of my daughter and probably all over the Valley, as far as I know."

"Oh, come on. This is such bulls.h.i.t."

"Really? Then why did you lie to me?"

"I've never lied. What are you-"

"I asked you if you knew my ex-wife and you said in pa.s.sing. in pa.s.sing. That's not really the truth, is it?" That's not really the truth, is it?"

"I just didn't want to get into it with you."

"So you lied. I didn't mention that in the motion but I could add it before I file it. The judge could decide if it is important."

She blew out her breath in agitated surrender.

"What do you want?"

I looked around. No one could hear us.