Read Online First Degree by David Rosenfelt - Free Book Online

a question,” he says. “Everybody in the office is wondering—I mean, no offense—but how in God’s name did you wind up with a loser slimeball like Oscar Garcia? Did you lose a bet or something?”
    “Oscar Garcia is godfather to my children.” I say this quietly, with as straight a face as I can manage, and I see a quick flash of fear in Dylan’s eyes, as his mind processes the possibilities. It takes three or four long seconds for his look to switch to nervous relief, as he realizes it just couldn’t be.
    “Hey, buddy, you had me going there for a second. But only for a second.”
    I grin. “Can’t fool you, you old rapscallion you.”
    He’s a little uncomfortable with this, so he decides to get back on firm ground, which unfortunately for me is his case. “So I assume you’re here to do a little business?” he asks.
    “Well, I was hoping you could bring me up to date. I just officially took the case a few minutes ago.”
    “You want me to do your homework for you?”
    “You don’t have to. I can just ask the judge for a delay.” A delay is something he most certainly does not want. The court system is like a conveyor belt in an assembly plant, and the prosecutor is the foreman, charged with keeping it moving. Delays are like coffee breaks: The belt stops and the system grinds to a halt.
    Dylan pauses for a moment, considering his options. “You looking to deal?”
    I’m not, of course, but I don’t want him to know that. “I sometimes find it helpful to know what my client is up against before I advise him on what to do.”
    He sighs; there’s no way around this. “Okay. I’ll have the file copied and sent over to you with the police reports.”
    “Good. I’d like it today. Can you also give me the shorthand version?” I ask.
    “What do you know so far?”
    “About the 911 call and the fingerprints at the warehouse. Unless that’s all you have …”
    “Come on, Andy, if that was all we had, your boy Oscar would be out in the park peddling dope, and you wouldn’t be sitting here. Dorsey’s gun was found in Garcia’s house.”
    I’m surprised by this, but only because I know Oscar is innocent. “You think Garcia murdered Dorsey, then took his gun and left it in his house?” I ask, trying to exaggerate my incredulity at the stupidity of such a move.
    He shrugs. “You visited with Garcia, right?” he asks. “You see any diplomas hanging in his cell?”
    I ignore that. “What about motive? That seems to be in short supply.”
    “We’re not there yet. Dorsey was into some bad things, maybe Garcia was a partner, or a competitor. We’ll get to motive, but if not?” He throws up his hands. “So what? We don’t have to prove motive. Even you public defenders know that.”
    Dylan has opened up an area I had planned to get into: Dorsey’s illegal activities. I nod and say as casually as I can, “I also should look at what the department had on Dorsey.”
    The fake affability immediately vanishes. He shakes his head firmly. “No can do.”
    “Why not?” I ask.
    “I don’t have it myself,” he says. “They tell me it doesn’t relate in any way to this case.”
    “Let me see if I understand this,” I say. “Dorsey takes off and goes into hiding because the department had something on him, he gets murdered a week later, and what they had isn’t relevant? Earth to prosecutor, come in please, come in please.”
    His look turns cold as he changes the subject. “It’s time to make this case go away, Andy. Twenty-five to life, Garcia can be out in ten.”
    “He can also be in for fifty.” I shake my head. “I’ll talk to my client, Dylan, but the answer is going to be no.”
    “I might be able to do better,” he says, then sees my look of surprise. He explains, “Dorsey is not a person the department brass wants to read about every day.”
    Warning bells are going off in my head. The offer of twenty-five to life was actually very generous on his part for the brutal