“You were there?”
“No, that would have been against the rules, me delivering a subpoena. But I’ve got the next best thing to being there.”
Haller pulled out his phone and continued as he set up the playback of a video.
“I issued a subpoena and faxed it to a P.I. I know down in OC. Lauren Sachs, ex — Orange County sheriff and a real looker. People call her Sexy Sachsy. She does a lot of matrimonial work now — you know, going into bars to see if the husband’s got the wandering eye, that sort of thing. She’s got these glasses with the hidden camera she wears on those jobs, and I told her I wanted a video record of service on this thing. This is what she got.”
Haller turned his phone so Bosch could see it. Harry leaned across the table so he could pick up the audio. On the screen was a door. It was shot through the point of view of Sachs’s video glasses. Bosch saw her arm reach out as she knocked on the door. There was silence but then a shadow could be seen through an ornamental stained-glass square set in the center of the door. Someone was standing silently on the other side.
“Mr. Spencer,” Sachs said. “I need you to open the door, please.”
Her stern tone was met with a long silence.
“Mr. Spencer, I can see you,” Sachs said. “Please open the door.”
“Who are you?” said a voice. “What do you want?”
“I have legal documents for you to sign. From Los Angeles.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your law firm is Cronyn and Cronyn, right? Then these are for you.”
No response. Then a lock could be heard turning, and the door opened three inches. A man looked out with one eye. But enough of his face appeared in the opening for Bosch and anyone else to confirm it was Spencer. Sachs quickly shoved a folded white document through the door. Spencer tried to close it but, unseen in the video, Sachs had put her foot over the threshold. The document got through and Spencer let it fall to the floor in the hallway behind him.
“That is a subpoena demanding your appearance in court this coming Wednesday morning,” Sachs said. “It is all clear in the document you have been served with. If you do not appear, you will be subject to warrant and arrest by the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department. I’d be there if I were you.”
Spencer’s eyes widened as he realized that his worst nightmare was about to unfold. When he spoke, he stuttered.
“I–I — I’m not Terry Spencer.”
“Well, sir, I never used the name Terry here and the subpoena says ‘Terrence.’ If I were you, I would not try that tack to avoid appearance in court. You have been duly and legally served, sir. I have documented service. To not show up or to claim you have not been served will only anger a Superior Court judge and probably your employer, the Los Angeles Police Department.”
Sachs removed her foot and Spencer closed the door. His shadow remained behind the stained-glass panel. Sachs held at the door for a moment, then reached out and knocked again, this time employing a gentle, almost sympathetic tap.
“A piece of advice, Mr. Spencer? Come with a lawyer. And you should know that using Kathy Cronyn would be a conflict of interest. Her firm represents the interests of Preston Borders, not yours. Have a good day, sir.”
The POV of the video swung 180 degrees as Sachs turned and walked down a stone pathway to a waiting car. The location was clearly the hills of Laguna. and Bosch could see the cobalt blue ocean over the roofline of the house across the street.
The video ended and Haller took his phone back. He looked at Bosch with a smile.
“Pretty neat, huh?” he said. “I think we teed up Mr. Spencer pretty good.”
“What do you think he’ll do?”
“I’m hoping he shows up. I told her to say that part about angering the judge and his employer. Maybe that will make him show.”
“Did you tell her to suggest he bring a lawyer? A lawyer might tell him to take the fifth.”
“Maybe. But I thought it was worth the risk. We need him to cut the Cronyns loose. The hope is he won’t let them know what’s going on.”
“I get that, but if he takes the fifth, we’ll never know how he played the evidence and got into that box.”
“Some secrets you live with if you win your case. Know what I mean?”
“I guess. What else have we got?”
“Well, that’s where I need you, broheim. Cisco is at large — I hope he hasn’t slipped up — and I need an investigator. I want to locate—”
“Just so you know, Cisco’s been working for me. Since yesterday afternoon. Not on this. On a personal matter.”
Haller laughed, thinking it was a joke.
“I’m serious,” Bosch said.
“A personal matter,” Haller said. “What personal matter?”
“He’s helping a friend of mine and it’s confidential. It’s got nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to do with this if I don’t have my investigator. What the fuck is going on?”
“Look, it was an emergency and I needed him. He’ll be clear later on and I’ll be able to tell you all about it then. But you’ve got me. You said you want to locate something or somebody. What? Who?”
Haller stared at him for a long moment before answering.
“It’s a who,” he finally said. “I pulled the court file on the original trial and have been reading the transcription. I want to locate Dina Skyler.”
Bosch didn’t need long to place the name. Dina was Danielle Skyler’s younger sister. She was the one who had been scheduled to visit Danielle through the holidays.
The visit never happened but Dina did come out from Hollywood, Florida, during the trial to testify about the plans the sisters had for living together and taking Hollywood, California, by storm. Dina was eighteen months younger and Danielle had been protective of her. While testifying, she spoke of their loving the movie White Christmas because it was a show business story about two sisters. She told the jury that every holiday season, they would put on a rendition of the song “Sisters” for their parents.
Dina was a powerful witness during the penalty stage of the trial. Bosch had always felt that her hour of tearful testimony was what swayed both the jury and then the judge toward the death penalty.
“I’m thinking we might need her for the emotional pull,” Haller said. “I want the judge to know the family still cares, that the victim’s sister is right there in the courtroom, and he had better get this thing right.”
“She was a strong presence at the trial.”
“Did she ever move out here, like she and her sister planned?”
“Yeah, she did. I stayed in touch with her at the beginning and then it kind of tapered off. I think I was a reminder of what had happened to Dani. I got the message and stopped checking on her.”
“Dani?”
“Danielle. People who knew her called her Dani.”
“If you are allowed to testify Wednesday — and I will go apeshit crazy if you’re not — make sure you call her that.”
Bosch didn’t respond. These kind of subtle manipulations were part of Haller’s daily life but they always bothered Bosch, even if they were done in his favor. He felt that if he didn’t condone them from attorneys working against him, he shouldn’t accept them from one working for him.
Haller moved on.
“So, did she make it?” he asked. “I looked her up on IMDB and there was nothing. Did she change her name or something?”