Chapter 7
CISCO AND I waited by the property’s front gate. I was hoping the sea air would chase the smell of death out of my nose. It was a losing battle.
The first to respond to my call to the LAPD were two patrol officers from Pacific Division.
The female took information from me while her male counterpart went into the house to confirm the death.
When he came out, he was talking into the radio mic on his shoulder, asking for a supervisor to arrive on scene.
Another ten minutes passed before a patrol sergeant appeared and went inside the house to see things for himself. When he exited, he came directly to me.
“You found the body?” he asked.
“My investigator and I did, yes,” I said. I noticed that his nameplate said FINLEY.
“‘Investigator’?” he said.
“I’m an attorney,” I said. “Dennis Wojciechowski is my investigator. The man in there was supposed to be a witness in a civil lawsuit I’m involved with. We were supposed to take his deposition today.”
Finley reared his head in recognition.
“You’re the Lincoln Lawyer guy, right? I’ve seen your billboards.”
The Lincoln legacy—I’d never live it down.
“Not anymore,” I said. “I don’t do criminal. Are the detectives on the way? I’d like to speak to them.”
“I’m signing off on this as a self-inflicted suicide,” Finley said. “No need to call in detectives.”
I didn’t bother mentioning that suicide meant that it was self-inflicted.
“You have the authority to make that call?” I asked.
“I do, yes,” Finley said. “No sign of foul play, empty pill bottle, pending eviction. The coroner’s office will make the final call on the toxicology, and they’re on the way.
All our reports will go to the detective bureau for review.
But right now, we don’t need to bother the detectives with this. ”
“Well, Sergeant, I am going to have to insist that you do. This man was set to be a key witness in an upcoming civil trial where billions of dollars will be at stake, and there is a corporation that would do anything to subvert the cause of justice.”
Finley smiled, glanced around him, and understood he now had an audience—his two underlings. He turned his attention back to me.
“That’s a nice speech,” he said. “But it doesn’t change my call on this.
The coroner’s investigator will take a look and I’m sure he will agree.
Now, we have your statement and your information and we’ll be in touch if we need to be in touch.
You and your investigator can go now, sir. Have a nice day.”
He turned away to confer with the two other cops. I looked at Cisco and shook my head.
“There is a hearing today in federal court,” I said loudly but calmly.
“It’s about this witness. There will be media there.
A lot of media—the case has already drawn national interest, and we’re not even in trial yet.
When I report that there has been no investigation by the LAPD of this man’s death, that will be news, and your decision here will end up being questioned by your boss and his boss and his boss all the way up the line to the chief of police. Just remember, I warned you.”
Finley turned around and put his hands on his hips as he stared at me, clearly annoyed at getting pushback on his command decision. Cisco put a hand on my arm and gave it a tug.
“Come on, Mick,” he said. “We should go.”
I shook his hand off as Finley stepped back to me.
“Sir, did you have permission to enter this home?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Oh, is that how you want to go?” I said. “You’re going to get me for trespassing? You really want to dig yourself in that deep, Sergeant Finley?”
“What I want, sir, is for you to leave these premises,” Finley said. “While you still can.”
“Don’t worry, Sergeant, we’re leaving,” Cisco said.
He pulled again on my arm, but I held my ground and pointed at the front door of the house.
“No,” I said. “I’m not leaving until I know this man’s death is going to be properly investigated. By detectives, not patrol officers.”
Finley smiled.
“Okay, you want an investigation, you’ll get an investigation,” he said. “We’ll investigate you. Officer Dance, put the Lincoln Lawyer in the back seat of your car.”
Dance was the female officer. She stepped toward me.
“Do I cuff him, Sarge?” she asked.
“I don’t think we need to do that,” Finley said. “He’s going to cooperate. Just put him in the car and we’ll get to him when we get to him.”
“This way, sir,” Dance said. She pointed toward the walkway with one hand while taking my arm with the other.
“This is bullshit,” I said. “If you put me in the car, you are arresting me, and you’re going to answer to a federal judge for that.”
“Let’s go, sir,” Dance insisted.
“Mick, who do you want me to call?” Cisco said.
“Call Judge Ruhlin’s clerk,” I said over my shoulder. “Tell them I’m being detained illegally by police, and I need Peggy—I mean, the judge—to issue a show-cause order against LAPD sergeant Finley, Pacific Division. Tell her that otherwise, I won’t make the hearing today.”
I stopped my resistance and let Dance lead me by the arm through the gate. We reached the walkway before Finley called her name.
“Dance, bring him back here,” he said.
Dance and I did a pirouette.
“He’s finally being smart,” I whispered to her.
She didn’t respond. We walked back through the gate and right up to Finley.
“Okay, Dance,” he said. “Why don’t you go out there to Pacific and flag down the coroner’s van.”
“Yes, sir,” Dance said.
She turned to follow the order. Finley took a step closer to me so he would not be overheard by Dance’s partner, who was standing with Cisco by the gate.
“What am I going to do with you, Lincoln?” he said.
I knew by the question and tone that he was going to capitulate.
He’d finally seen that the path forward for him was fraught with pitfalls if he insisted on the temporary fulfillment of putting me in my place.
Maybe that was why he was a supervisor. My part of the unspoken bargain was to act like he hadn’t blinked.
I knew just what to give him to allow him to save face and get me what I wanted.
“Did you see the name of the doctor on the pill bottle?” I asked.
“I didn’t look,” Finley said.
“Same name as the man in the bed. I mean, I’m not a detective, but it seemed kind of hinky to me.”
Finley nodded and turned to the remaining patrol officer.
“Okay, we’ve got some new information,” he said. “Johnson, let’s tape this off and preserve the scene. I’ll call West Bureau and get somebody out here to take a look inside.”
Johnson turned and headed toward the gate, presumably to get a roll of crime scene tape from the patrol wagon. That left me with Finley.
“Happy now, Counselor?” he asked.
“I’m happy the pros are going to take a look at it, yes,” I said. “But I’m not happy I lost my witness.”
“Well, you’re going to have to stay here and talk to the pros about this big case of yours.”
“Not a problem.”
Finley turned away to make the callout to detectives on his radio. I walked over to Cisco to wait.
“What the fuck, Mick,” he whispered. “You almost got arrested over what? The guy did himself. You were in the house. It was obvious.”
I checked Finley to make sure he was not within earshot. He was up on the porch talking into his radio by the front door. I could not hear him and he could not hear me.
“We need an investigation,” I said.
“Why?” Cisco said. “It’s gonna come back suicide. The guy downed a bottle of Oxy.”
“Doesn’t matter how it comes back.”
“Why?”
“Because what matters is that it’s being investigated.”
Cisco stared at me for a long moment before I could see understanding come into his eyes. He slowly nodded his head.