The Lincoln Lawyer: A Novel by Michael Connelly Page A

held his eyes down on these documents.
    “At ten-eleven last night the LAPD communications center received a nine-one-one emergency call from Regina Campo of seventeen-sixty
     White Oak Boulevard, apartment two-eleven. She reported an intruder had entered her home and attacked her. Patrol officers
     responded and arrived on the premises at ten-seventeen.Slow night, I guess, because that was pretty quick. Better than average response to a hot shot. Anyway, the patrol officers
     were met in the parking lot by Ms. Campo, who said she had fled the apartment after the attack. She informed the officers
     that two neighbors named Edward Turner and Ronald Atkins were in her apartment, holding the intruder. Officer Santos proceeded
     to the apartment, where he found the suspect intruder, later identified as Mr. Roulet, lying on the floor and in the command
     and control of Turner and Atkins.”
    “They were the two faggots who were sitting on me,” Roulet said.
    I looked at Roulet and saw the flash of anger quickly fade.
    “The officers took custody of the suspect,” Levin continued, as if he had not been interrupted. “Mr. Atkins—”
    “Wait a minute,” I said. “Where was he found on the floor? What room?”
    “Doesn’t say.”
    I looked at Roulet.
    “It was the living room. It wasn’t far from the front door. I never got that far in.”
    Levin wrote a note to himself before continuing.
    “Mr. Atkins produced a folding knife with the blade open, which he said had been found on the floor next to the intruder.
     The officers handcuffed the suspect, and paramedics were called to treat both Campo and Roulet, who had a head laceration
     and slight concussion. Campo was transported to Holy Cross Medical Center for continued treatment and to be photographed by
     an evidence technician. Roulet was taken into custody and booked into Van Nuys jail. The premises of Ms. Campo’s apartment
     were sealed for crime scene processing and the case was assigned to Detective Martin Booker of Valley Bureau detectives.”
    Levin spread more photocopies of the police photos of Regina Campo’s injuries out on the table. There were front and profile
     shots of her face and two close-ups of bruising around her neck and a small puncture mark under her jaw. The copy quality
     was poor and I knew the photocopies weren’t worthy of serious study.But I did notice that all the facial injuries were on the right side of Campo’s face. Roulet had been correct about that.
     She had either been repeatedly punched by someone’s left hand—or possibly her own right hand.
    “These were taken at the hospital, where Ms. Campo also gave a statement to Detective Booker. In summary, she said she came
     home about eight-thirty Sunday night and was home alone when there was a knock at her door at about ten o’clock. Mr. Roulet
     represented himself as someone Ms. Campo knew and so she opened the door. Upon opening the door she was immediately struck
     by the intruder’s fist and driven backwards into the apartment. The intruder entered and closed and locked the door. Ms. Campo
     attempted to defend herself but was struck at least twice more and driven to the floor.”
    “This is such bullshit!” Roulet yelled.
    He slammed his fists down on the table and stood up, his seat rolling backwards and banging loudly into the glass window behind
     him.
    “Hey, easy now!” Dobbs cautioned. “You break the window and it’s like a plane. We all get sucked out of here and go down.”
    No one smiled at his attempt at levity.
    “Louis, sit back down,” I said calmly. “These are police reports, nothing more or less. They are not supposed to be the truth.
     They are one person’s view of the truth. All we are doing here is getting a first look at the case, seeing what we are up
     against.”
    Roulet rolled his chair back to the table and sat down without further protest. I nodded to Levin and he continued. I noted
     that Roulet had long stopped acting like the