JO03 - Detour to Murder Read Online Free PDF Page B

either of them. I got railroaded. My fuckin’ lawyer split. I was on my own.”
    Yeah, they’re all innocent, and it’s always about the lawyers who screw up. Maybe Shakespeare was right. Maybe they should kill all the lawyers. But in this case he was innocent, at least of Haskell’s murder.
    The door banged open. A man of about sixty marched in. “This is the hearing room. No talking until I say so.”
    I ignored him and continued speaking to Roberts, “Goddammit, Al, hear me out. I have important information about your case.”
    “Yeah, what?” Roberts asked.
    The man at the front of the room shouted, “I said, no talking!”
    I glanced up at the guy. He wore a loud checkered jacket, blue pants, and his wavy hair was all fluffed up with the sides sweeping back like glossy, silver wings. He swaggered around, acting like a peacock in heat.
    “Don’t get your feathers ruffled.” I stood. “I’ll talk to my client if I feel like it. Who the hell are you, anyway?”
    “I’m Deputy Commissioner Schlereth. I’m in charge of the hearings.”
    “Oh, yeah. Well, I’m Jimmy O’Brien, representing Alexander Roberts. Just conferring with my client while we wait.”
    He placed a stack of papers on the table. “We have a busy schedule today, Mr. O’Brien, several hearings.” He sat at the table, adjusted his chair and glared at me. “We’re late getting started.”
    “So, start.”
    “The other commissioners haven’t arrived yet.”
    Turning back to Roberts, I started to say something about the autopsy report, but paused. I didn’t want to hurt Roberts’s chance by pissing off the commissioner before the proceedings even began. So I kept quiet. Roberts would find out what I’d discovered when I dropped the bomb on the commissioners. He looked at me, concern—or was it hope?—etched on his face. I put my finger to my lips, nodded slightly, and sat there, twiddling my thumbs.
    Finally, two more people, a man in his early forties, and a middle-aged woman of obvious means wearing a fur coat—the other commissioners, I assumed—strolled into the room, talking and laughing. They took a seat on either side of Schlereth and at 9:40 the hearing started.
    The Deputy Commissioner held up his hand. “All right, everyone’s now present.” He glanced at the wealthy woman. “Let’s call this hearing to order.” She gave a shrug and nodded. He looked down and fingered a file resting on the table. “Today's date is October 15, 1974. The time is now 0942 hours and we are at the California Institution for Men at Chino. This hearing is being taped.” He reached out and adjusted the reel-to-reel Magnavox in front of him. “Participants in today’s hearing are Commissioners, Mrs. Thornton, Mr. Goodwin, and I’m Deputy Commissioner Schlereth.” He looked again at Mrs. Thornton who, while examining her outstretched fingers, adjusted a lavish diamond ring. He continued reciting the names of those in attendance: “the inmate, Mr. Alexander Roberts, CDC number V-34560. And representing the inmate is the attorney, James O’Brien.”
    He paused a moment. “Wait a minute, a private attorney?” He looked up at me. “What are you doing here? Attorneys get paid, don’t they? The prisoner is indigent.” He turned to Miss Rich Bitch. “Mrs. Thornton,” the Deputy Commissioner said, wiggling his fingers in a ‘gimme’ manner. The woman pulled a document from her alligator attaché case and slid it across the table. “Oh, yes. Here it is,” Schlereth said. “Your application to represent Inmate Roberts. Appointed by a judge. Hmm, one of those government handouts. He eyed me curiously. “Not much money. You must be inexperienced.”
    I stood and felt as if I should curtsy. That’s me, Jimmy O’Brien junior lawyer from Downey. Maybe I should show him my Cub Scout merit badge. “Commissioner Schlereth, I’m just here to serve the cause of justice.” I sat down.
    “Mr. O’Brien, your lack of experience in these