The Lincoln Lawyer: A Novel by Michael Connelly Page A

conference room with a long polished wood table
     and a wall of glass that framed a western exposure stretching across Santa Monica to the Pacific and the charter islands beyond.
     It was a clear day and I could see Catalina and Anacapa out there at the very edge of the world. Because the sun was going
     down and seemed to be almost at eye level, a film had been rolled down over the window to cut the glare. It was like the room
     had sunglasses on.
    And so did my client. Louis Roulet sat at the head of the table with a pair of black-framed Ray-Bans on. Out of his gray jail
     jumpsuit, he now wore a dark brown suit over a pale silk T-shirt. He looked like a confident and cool young real estate executive,
     not the scared boy I saw in the holding pen in the courthouse.
    To Roulet’s left sat Cecil Dobbs and next to him was a well-preserved, well-coiffed and bejeweled woman I assumed to be Roulet’s
     mother. I also assumed that Dobbs hadn’t told her that the meeting would not include her.
    To Roulet’s right the first seat was empty and waiting for me. In the seat next to it sat my investigator, Raul Levin, with
     a closed file in front of him on the table.
    Dobbs introduced Mary Alice Windsor to me. She shook my hand with a strong grip. I sat down and Dobbs explained that shewould be paying for her son’s defense and had agreed to the terms I had outlined earlier. He slid an envelope across the table
     to me. I looked inside and saw a check for sixty thousand dollars with my name on it. It was the retainer I had asked for,
     but I had expected only half of it in the initial payment. I had made more in total on cases before but it was still the largest
     single check I had ever received.
    The check was drawn on the account of Mary Alice Windsor. The bank was solid gold—First National of Beverly Hills. I closed
     the envelope and slid it back across the table.
    “I’m going to need that to come from Louis,” I said, looking at Mrs. Windsor. “I don’t care if you give him the money and
     then he gives it to me. But I want the check I get to come from Louis. I work for him and that’s got to be clear from the
     start.”
    I knew this was different from even my practice of that morning—accepting payment from a third party. But it was a control
     issue. One look across the table at Mary Alice Windsor and C. C. Dobbs and I knew I had to make sure that they knew this was
     my case to manage, to win or to lose.
    I wouldn’t have thought it could happen but Mary Windsor’s face hardened. For some reason she reminded me of an old grandfather
     clock, her face flat and square.
    “Mother,” Roulet said, heading something off before it started. “It’s all right. I will write him a check. I should be able
     to cover it until you give me the money.”
    She looked from me to her son and then back to me.
    “Very well,” she said.
    “Mrs. Windsor,” I said. “Your support for your son is very important. And I don’t mean just the financial end of things. If
     we are not successful in getting these charges dropped and we choose the alternative of trial, it will be very important for
     you to show your support in public ways.”
    “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I will back him come hell or high water. These ridiculous charges must be removed, and that woman…
     she isn’t going to get a penny from us.”
    “Thank you, Mother,” Roulet said.
    “Yes, thank you,” I said. “I will be sure to inform you, probably through Mr. Dobbs, where and when you are needed. It’s good
     to know you will be there for your son.”
    I said nothing else and waited. It didn’t take her long to realize she had been dismissed.
    “But you don’t want me here right now, is that it?”
    “That’s right. We need to discuss the case and it is best and most appropriate for Louis to do this only with his defense
     team. The attorney-client privilege does not cover anyone else. You could be compelled to testify against your