And there we were. We had come to the place Posey had wanted to get to from the moment he’d answered the call.

“I’m open to it, Dwight. You should know that my client voluntarily entered a rehab program after his arrest. He has completed the program, has full-time employment and has been clean for four months. He’ll give his piss anytime, anywhere, to prove it.”

“That is really good to hear,” Posey said with false enthusiasm. “The DA’s Office, as well as the courts, always look favorably upon voluntary rehabilitation.”

Tell me something I don’t know, I almost said.

“The kid is doing good. I can vouch for that. What do you want to do for him?”

I knew how the script would read now. Posey would turn it into a goodwill gesture from the prosecution. He would make it seem as though the D.A.’s Office were giving out the favor here, when the truth was that the prosecution was acting to insulate an important figure from political and personal embarrassment. That was fine with me. I didn’t care about the political ends of the deal as long as my client got what I wanted him to get.

“Tell you what, Mick. Let’s make it go away, and maybe Patrick can use this opportunity to move ahead with being a productive member of society.”

“Sounds like a plan to me, Dwight. You’re making my day. And his.”

“Okay, then get me his rehab records and we’ll put it into a package for the judge.”

Posey was talking about making it a pretrial intervention case. Patrick would have to take biweekly drug tests and in six months the case would go away if he kept clean. He would still have an arrest on his record but no conviction. Unless …

“You willing to expunge his record?” I asked.

“Uh … , that’s asking a lot, Mickey. He did, after all, break in and steal the diamonds.”

“He didn’t break in, Dwight. He was invited in. And the alleged diamonds are what this is all about, right? Whether or not he actually did steal any diamonds.”

Posey must have realized he had misspoken by bringing up the diamonds. He folded his tent quickly.

“All right, fine. We’ll put it into the package.”

“You’re a good man, Dwight.”

“I try to be. You will withdraw your motion now?”

“First thing tomorrow. When do we go to court? I have a trial starting the end of next week.”

“Then we’ll go for Monday. I’ll let you know.”

I hung up the phone and called the reception desk on the intercom. Luckily, Lorna answered.

“I thought you were sent home,” I said.

“We’re about to go through the door. I’m going to leave my car here and go with Cisco.”

“What, on his donorcycle?”