I nodded slowly. Vincent was only a few years older than me but was trying to act like some kind of wise old sage.

“The thing is, Jerry, if I did what you suggest, then I’d never be able to look another client in the eye again. I think I’d end up being the dope that got roped.”

I stood up and gathered my files. My plan was to go back and tell Barnett Woodson to roll the dice and let me see what I could do.

“I’ll see you after the break,” I said.

And then I walked away.

PART TWO

—Suitcase City

2007

Four

It was a little early in the week for Lorna Taylor to be calling and checking on me. Usually she waited until at least Thursday. Never Tuesday. I picked up the phone, thinking it was more than a check-in call.

“Lorna?”

“Mickey, where’ve you been? I’ve been calling all morning.”

“I went for my run. I just got out of the shower. You okay?”

“I’m fine. Are you?”

“Sure. What is—?”

“You got a forthwith from Judge Holder. She wants to see you — like an hour ago.”

This gave me pause.

“About what?”

“I don’t know. All I know is first Michaela called, then the judge herself called. That usually doesn’t happen. She wanted to know why you weren’t responding.”

I knew that Michaela was Michaela Gill, the judge’s clerk. And Mary Townes Holder was the chief judge of the Los Angeles Superior Court. The fact that she had called personally didn’t make it sound like they were inviting me to the annual justice ball. Mary Townes Holder didn’t call lawyers without a good reason.

“What did you tell her?”

“I just said you didn’t have court today and you might be out on the golf course.”

“I don’t play golf, Lorna.”

“Look, I couldn’t think of anything.”

“It’s all right, I’ll call the judge. Give me the number.”

“Mickey, don’t call. Just go. The judge wants to see you in chambers. She was very clear about that and she wouldn’t tell me why. So just go.”

“Okay, I’m going. I have to get dressed.”

“Mickey?”

“What?”

“How are you really doing?”

I knew her code. I knew what she was asking. She didn’t want me appearing in front of a judge if I wasn’t ready for it.

“You don’t have to worry, Lorna. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Call me and let me know what is going on as soon as you can.”

“Don’t worry. I will.”

I hung up the phone, feeling like I was being bossed around by my wife, not my ex-wife.

Five

As the chief judge of the Los Angeles Superior Court, Judge Mary Townes Holder did most of her work behind closed doors. Her courtroom was used on occasion for emergency hearings on motions but rarely used for trials. Her work was done out of the view of the public. In chambers. Her job largely pertained to the administration of the justice system in Los Angeles County. More than two hundred fifty judgeships and forty courthouses fell under her purview. Every jury summons that went into the mail had her name on it, and every assigned parking space in a courthouse garage had her approval. She assigned judges by both geography and designation of law — criminal, civil, juvenile and family. When judges were newly elected to the bench, it was Judge Holder who decided whether they sat in Beverly Hills or Compton, and whether they heard high-stakes financial cases in civil court or soul-draining divorce cases in family court.