The Reversal by Michael Connelly Page B

one last time.
    “So, Mickey, I hear we are now colleagues,” he said with a smile.
    “Temporarily,” I said. “I don’t plan to make it a career.”
    “Good, I don’t need the competition. So what are we going to do here?”
    “I think we are going to put it over one more time.”
    “Mickey, come on, I’ve been very generous. I can’t keep—”
    “No, you’re right. You’ve been completely generous, Phil, and I appreciate that. My client appreciates that. It’s just that he can’t take a deal because anything that puts him in a state prison is a death penalty. We both know that the Crips will get him.”
    “First of all, I don’t know that. And second of all, if that’s what he thinks, then maybe he shouldn’t have tried to rip off the Crips and shoot one of their guys.”
    I nodded in agreement.
    “That’s a good point but my client maintains it was self-defense. Your vic drew first. So I guess we go to trial and you’ve got to ask a jury for justice for a victim who doesn’t want it. Who will testify only if you force him to and will then claim he doesn’t remember shit.”
    “Maybe he doesn’t. He did get shot, after all.”
    “Yeah, and maybe the jury will buy that, especially when I bring out his pedigree. I’ll ask him what he does for a living for starters. According to what Cisco, my investigator, has found out, he’s been selling drugs since he was twelve years old and his mother put him on the street.”
    “Mickey, we’ve already been down this road. What do you want? I’m getting ready to just say fuck it, let’s go to trial.”
    “What do I want? I want to make sure you don’t fuck up the start of your brilliant career.”
    “What?”
    “Look, man, you are a young prosecutor. Remember what you just said about not wanting the competition? Well, another thing you don’t want is to risk putting a loss on your ledger. Not this early in the game. You just want this to go away. So here’s what I want. A year in County and restitution. You can name your price on restitution.”
    “Are you kidding me?”
    He said it too loud and drew a look from the judge. He then spoke very quietly.
    “Are you fucking kidding me?”
    “Not really. It’s a good solution when you think about it, Phil. It works for everybody.”
    “Yeah, and what’s Judge Judy going to say when I present this? The victim is in a wheelchair for life. She won’t sign off on this.”
    “We ask to go back to chambers and we both sell it to her. We tell her that Montgomery wants to go to trial and claim self-defense and that the state has real reservations because of the victim’s lack of cooperation and status as a high-ranking member of a criminal organization. She was a prosecutor before she was a judge. She’ll understand this. And she’ll probably have more sympathy for Montgomery than she does for your drug-dealing victim.”
    Hellman thought for a long moment. The hearing before Champagne ended and she instructed the courtroom deputy to bring Montgomery out. It was the last case of the day.
    “Now or never, Phil,” I prompted.
    “Okay, let’s do it,” he finally said.
    Hellman stood up and moved to the prosecution table.
    “Your Honor,” he intoned, “before we bring the defendant out, could counsel discuss this case in chambers?”
    Champagne, a veteran judge who had seen everything at least three times, creased her brow.
    “On the record, gentlemen?”
    “That’s probably not necessary,” Hellman said. “We would like to discuss the terms of a disposition in the case.”
    “Then by all means. Let’s go.”
    The judge stepped down from the bench and headed back toward her chambers. Hellman and I started to follow. As we got to the gate next to the clerk’s pod, I leaned forward to whisper to the young prosecutor.
    “Montgomery gets credit for time served, right?”
    Hellman stopped in his tracks and turned back to me.
    “You’ve got to be—”
    “Just kidding,” I quickly said.
    I