“She knew the main key was missing by then? In the hands of absolutely anyone?”

Officer Scholl had the character at least to glance down at her report on that one. “Well, she claimed she didn’t think about that.”

“All right. Now, she mentioned some important files had been left in the Bronco.”

“Yes. She was very insistent about us finding the files. They were in a burgundy leather briefcase, she said. She cared more about the files than the stolen vehicle.”

“And what did she tell you about these files?”

“She described them as client files, which had labels and names. She said the files held confidential information. Different information in each file. And what she called client-intake forms.”

“And did she give you the names of the clients?”

“No, she wouldn’t give us the names. She stated that the names were confidential. She wouldn’t say what the cases were about or if there was anything in the cases that might make somebody want to get at the files. I warned her that that would hinder our investigation but she wouldn’t budge.”

“And was the failure of the defendant to provide information about the files a hindrance to your work?”

“I asked right away, could the thief be after the files? She said she didn’t see how. I said, how can we find out if you won’t give us any details? I had to leave it at that.”

“What else did she tell you?”

“That her son had an ongoing friendship with an individual named Nicole Zack, who stayed at the house now and then. Nicole Zack is known to local law enforcement. She has had several arrests as a juvenile and a conviction for shoplifting. She was arrested for murder last year, which is how the defendant got to know her. She got her off.”

“The defendant in this instance had a close relationship with her client?”

“Obviously. Close enough that they hang out together at night at her house.”

The comment didn’t make a point, it slashed like a machete. Fussy adherence to petty concerns, reckless disregard for issues of serious import, and suggestive interactions with notorious lowlifes-Nina had done it all. The prosecution’s entire case relied on nothing more substantial than the imaginative slanders of this officer who hardly knew her.

“Do something!” Nina whispered to Jack. He shook his head sharply, warning her to stay out of it. As the questioning went on, Nina’s hands shook with frustration.

“The son had no car? He had to ride around on a bicycle?”

“He’s underage for a license.”

“And Nicole Zack?”

“She doesn’t have one yet. Not that that would stop her.”

“Did the defendant tell you anything else?”

Officer Scholl examined her report again. “Not until later. She called and gave us the names of three files. She said she had checked with the clients and they had allowed her to do that.”

“And what were those names?”

“Angel Guillaume and Brandy Taylor. Kao and See Vang. Kevin Cruz. But she claimed it was all confidential. She wouldn’t tell us anything about the contents of the files.”

“Now, Officer Scholl, were you also assigned the investigation of this theft?”

“I was. I located the vehicle several days later at the Heavenly parking lot. It looked like somebody had a long joyride and dumped the vehicle there. The defendant couldn’t identify any damage. I had it examined for forensic evidence and fingerprints. There were a number of prints of the defendant and her son. Dog hairs all over. Trash in the backseat, half-empty Gatorade and water bottles, a coffee cup that had been there awhile.”

Oh, great. Now she bad-mouthed Nina’s domestic inadequacies.

“Nothing that would help identify the perpetrator,” Scholl added.

“What about the missing key?”

“Left on the seat. Wiped clean of prints.”

“Were the files found in the vehicle?”

“No. The files were missing, and so was the briefcase.”

“Were the files ever located to your knowledge?”

“Not to my knowledge. I did interview Nicole Zack and the boy. I put out an APB on the truck. I did what I could, but without the defendant’s full cooperation, I couldn’t mount a full-scale investigation. I just had to wait until the truck got dumped. The auto-theft case is still open.”

“Let me ask you something now, Officer. Do you have any independent knowledge that these files were ever in the defendant’s stolen vehicle?”

“No.”

“The defendant could have accidentally left her briefcase in a supermarket or lost them in some other, even more egregious fashion?”

Officer Scholl looked thoughtful. “For all I know.”

“And used the auto theft as an excuse to claim she wasn’t totally responsible for the loss?”

“I never saw any files. I don’t know if there were in fact any files in a briefcase in that vehicle.”

“And has the perpetrator of the theft been identified at this time?”

“Not at this time. As I say, I’m still in charge of an open investigation.”

“Thank you. Nothing further.”

“We will take the midmorning break,” said Judge Brock. Nolan left. The clock stopped. The clerk took off her headphones and disappeared.

Jack nodded at the door.

“I’ll stay here for a minute,” Nina said, “and try to remember how hardworking and innocent I looked to myself only yesterday.”

“I warned you. They trowel on the accusations. Hearsay, opinion evidence, all sorts of character-battering is an integral part of the proceedings. You’ll get a better crack at showing a balanced picture of your career, who you are, how well you’ve done in your work, during the next phase, the mitigation hearing. This is a different kind of court.”

“Yeah, it’s a quasi-court practicing quasi-law with quasi-rules of procedure. And quasi-protection for the defendant.”

Jack said, “You’re right. Welcome to the Bizarro universe of law.”

“I read the rules, but I can’t believe the way they play out in practice. This is not supposed to be a criminal action, but it sure feels like one.”

“If only it were a criminal matter,” Jack said. “Then you might have the statutory presumption of innocence. You don’t get that here. You already know that the technical rules of evidence in criminal cases aren’t applicable. The case doesn’t even have to be proven beyond a reasonable doubt. It’s unclear how much hearsay evidence can come in, and Hugo likes to hear it all.”

“Then why do I need an attorney?” Nina said rather rashly. “You don’t object. You can’t keep the worst slimeballing out. You can’t do anything but sit there.”

“I haven’t cross-examined yet.”

“Is that when you start defending me?”

“Look, we got off to a rough start this morning. I’ll take some of the blame.”

“I hate sitting there unable to open my mouth and defend myself. I feel like a crash-test dummy.” She helped herself to some of the bottled water.

“Back at my office, I have a quote from Kafka taped inside my drawer. Funny guy, in his bitter European way. The Trial speaks to some of your ordeal. You remember, this clerk, K, keeps getting hauled off to this court in this crummy run-down warehouse, and he can’t find out what the charges are. At first he scoffs, but he finally starts believing in the whole strange system. At that point he’s doomed.”

“Then he and I have nothing in common,” Nina said. “I refuse to let this sorry system ruin my life.”

“All they can do is lift your license.”

He said it lightly, but she heard the worry behind his words. Jack was being kind. They both knew this could go beyond the California bar court into a criminal investigation of fraud. “That can’t happen,” she said. “We won’t let it.”

“If it happens, it won’t be the end of the world.”

“Nobody is running me out of this career that I worked so damn hard to achieve.”

Silence while he digested this. “Good, because you’re exactly the kind of lawyer we need out there, dirty-kneed, trudging through the trenches.” He lifted her chin to look at her. “Ah, Nina. How life changes.”