Fair Warning (Jack McEvoy #3)(43)

Rachel might find waking to an empty apartment upsetting, but I wanted to get to Detective Digoberto Ruiz before the trial started.

Best-laid plans. After tie-ups on both the 101 and 5 freeways, I rolled into the parking garage at the Criminal Courts Building in Santa Ana at 9:20. Proceedings in the trial of Isaiah Gamble were already underway. I slipped into the back row of the gallery and watched. I was in luck. It took me only a few minutes to realize that Detective Ruiz was the man on the witness stand giving testimony.

The gallery of the courtroom was empty except for me and a woman in the front row on the prosecution side of the room. The case apparently had drawn no attention from the local populace or media. The prosecutor was a woman who stood at a lectern between the prosecution and defense tables. The jury was to her left: twelve jurors and two alternates, still alert and paying attention in the first hour of the day.

The defendant, Isaiah Gamble, sat at a table next to another woman. I knew that it was part of the sexual-predator playbook to go to trial with a female lawyer. It forces the jury to ask: If this man really did what they say he did, would a woman represent him?

Ruiz looked close to retirement. He had a gray fringe of hair circling a bald dome and permanently sad eyes. He had seen too much on his job. He was recounting just one episode of many.

“I met with the victim at the hospital,” he said. “She was being treated for her injuries and evidence was being collected.”

“And was she able to provide you with other evidence or information?” the prosecutor asked.

“Yes, she had memorized a license plate that was in the trunk of the car with her.”

“It wasn’t on the car?”

“No, it had been removed.”

“Why was it removed?”

“Probably to help the suspect avoid being identified in case someone saw the abduction.”

The defense attorney objected to the detective’s answer, saying it was conjecture. The judge ruled that Ruiz had more than enough experience in rape cases to form the opinion he had voiced and allowed the answer to stand. It also emboldened the prosecutor to take the question further.

“You have seen this before in cases?” she asked. “The removal of the license plate.”

“Yes,” Ruiz said.

“As an experienced detective, what does that indicate to you?”

“Premeditation. That he had a plan and went out hunting.”

“Hunting?”

“Looking for a victim. For prey.”

“So going back to the victim being in the trunk, wasn’t it too dark in the trunk to see the plate?”

“It was dark but every time the kidnapper hit the brakes the taillights lit up part of the trunk and she could see. She memorized the plate that way.”

“And what did you do with that information?”

“I ran the plate on the computer and got the registered owner’s name.”

“Who was it registered to?”

“Isaiah Gamble.”

“The defendant.”

“Yes.”

“What did you do next, Detective Ruiz?”

“I pulled Gamble’s photo from his driver’s license, put it in a six-pack, and showed it to the victim.”

“Please tell the jury what a six-pack is.”

“It’s a photo lineup. I put together six photos, including the shot of Isaiah Gamble and five other men of the same race and similar age, build, hair, and complexion. I then showed it to the victim and asked if any of the men in the photos was the man who abducted and raped her.”

“And did she identify any of the men in the photo lineup?”

“Without hesitation she identified the photo of Isaiah Gamble as that of the man who had abducted, raped, and beaten her.”

“Did you have her sign her name under the photo of the man she identified?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And did you bring that six-pack with you to court today?”

“I did.”

The prosecutor went through the steps of introducing the six-pack as a state’s exhibit and the judge accepted it.

Twenty minutes later Ruiz had completed his direct testimony and the judge took the morning break before the defense’s cross-examination would start. He told the jurors and all parties to be back in fifteen minutes.

I watched Ruiz intently to see if he would leave the courtroom for a restroom or coffee break, but at first he stayed seated in the witness box and small-talked with the courtroom clerk. But then the clerk took a phone call and turned her attention away from the detective. After another minute Ruiz stood up and told the prosecutor he was going to the restroom and would be right back.

I watched Ruiz walk out the door and then followed him. I gave him a one-minute lead time in the restroom before I entered. He was at the sink washing his hands. I went to a sink two down and started doing the same. We saw each other in the mirror over the sink between us and both nodded.

“That must feel good,” I said.

“What’s that?” Ruiz asked.

“Putting sexual predators away for a long time.”

Ruiz looked at me strangely.

“I was in the courtroom,” I said. “I saw you testify.”

“Oh,” Ruiz said. “You’re not on the jury, are you? I can’t have any contact with—”