judge’s side. When he saw the group approaching, the officer guarding Morelli stood up and unlocked the door to the prisoner’s hospital room. Judge Velasco stood aside to let Ami in first. She walked to Morelli’s bed, and Kirkpatrick and the judge followed her. Morelli looked confused for a moment. Then the camera crew entered the room and started filming. Morelli froze like a deer caught in a car’s headlights. Then he threw his arm across his face and turned his head away from the camera.
“Get them out of here,” Morelli shouted.
Ami turned to the judge. “Please. He’s really upset.”
“The press has a constitutional right to be here, judge,” Kirkpatrick insisted. “If we were in court the press would be covering this.”
“Not with TV cameras,” Ami said, hoping that she was right.
Judge Velasco turned to the reporter from Channel Four. “You can stay but I want your cameraman to leave.”
“Our attorney told us…”
“I don’t care. The camera is causing a problem, so it goes,” Velasco said firmly. “You’ll have plenty of chances to film Mr. Morelli when he’s in a courtroom. He’s a patient in a hospital now, and I’m going to honor his wishes.”
The reporter saw that it would be useless to argue, and he told the cameraman to wait in the hall.
“Is that okay with you, Mr. Morelli?” Judge Velasco asked.
Morelli lowered his arm. “Thank you, judge.”
Kirkpatrick had given Ami two copies of the indictment. While the court reporter set up his machine, Ami gave Morelli his copy and told him what was going to happen during the arraignment. When Arthur Reid was ready, Judge Velasco read the caption of the case.
“Your Honor,” Kirkpatrick said. “There has been a problem verifying the defendant’s identity. We can’t match his prints, his identification is false, and he doesn’t show up in any of our databases. I’d like the court to ask the defendant if the name in the indictment is his true name.”
Ami fought down her panic. The arraignment was supposed to be easy. She wasn’t supposed to have to make any decisions that could affect Morelli.
“The Fifth Amendment, Your Honor,” she blurted out.
“What, Mrs. Vergano?” the judge asked, puzzled by her outburst.
“I’m advising my client to exercise his Fifth Amendment right to remain silent.”
Kirkpatrick was annoyed. “We need to know the defendant’s real name, Your Honor.”
“No you don’t,” Ami said. “What if he had amnesia? You’d prosecute him as John Doe. So you don’t need his name to go forward.”
The judge held up his hand before Kirkpatrick could reply. “Mrs. Vergano’s point is well taken, Mr. Kirkpatrick.”
The DA glared at Ami but held his tongue. The judge read the indictment, and the rest of the arraignment went along without any problems. When the brief appearance was concluded, everyone but Ami left.
“How is Ryan doing?” Morelli asked as soon as they were alone.
“He’s back in school. Being with his friends helps. He always asks about you when I get home from work.”
“He’s a good kid. He’s tough. He’ll be okay.”
“Yeah,” Ami answered, but Morelli could see that she was worried. He smiled.
“You know, for someone who says that she doesn’t know a thing about criminal law, you’re doing okay.”
Ami flashed an embarrassed grin. “I pulled that Fifth Amendment thing out of thin air. It’s what they do on TV. The lawyer always tells his client to plead the Fifth. Unfortunately, I haven’t been watching much TV lately, so I’d better get another lawyer in here pronto.”
“I don’t know if I want another lawyer. You’ve got Kirkpatrick so upset that he might dismiss my case just so he doesn’t have to deal with you.”
Ami laughed. “Whether you want it or not, I’m out of here as soon as Ray Armitage agrees to take over.”
“Who’s he?”
“Just one of the best criminal defense lawyers in the country. He’s in Colorado on the case of the Olympic skier. We’ve talked on the phone and he’s definitely interested in representing you. He’ll probably be on board early next week. Meanwhile, you’re stuck with me and we have to talk.”
“About what?” Morelli asked defensively.
“Just before I came over, Dr. French called me. He has friends in the military. They tried to get your records, but there is no record of a Daniel Morelli serving in the Special Forces or any other branch of the military during Vietnam.”
Morelli turned his head away from Ami.
“Look, Dan, your health is improving. They’re going to send you to jail soon unless we can get you bail. Someone like Ray Armitage can persuade a judge to set a low bail. You were defending Ben Branton when you stabbed Barney. Ben would have been hurt if Barney had hit him. And the policeman grabbed you from behind, so we can argue that you didn’t know that he was a cop. But the judge isn’t going to listen to those arguments if you’re using a fake name and fake ID. Kirkpatrick will argue that you’re a flight risk. How can we make an argument to refute that?”
Morelli turned back to Ami. He looked defeated and exhausted.
“If you knew my real name it would make matters worse.”
“Why?”
“I went AWOL from the Army in 1986. Everyone thinks I’m dead. You have no idea the shit storm you’d stir up if certain people discovered that I’m alive. That’s why I didn’t want my picture taken. That’s why you’ve got to figure out a way to get me out of here before I have to go to court. Once my face is in the news or in the paper they’ll know I’m alive. They’ll come for me.”
“Who will come for you?”
Morelli closed his eyes. Ami waited patiently. She couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. She could see that he was suffering.
“While I was in the army,” he said so quietly that Ami had to lean forward to hear him, “I was recruited by an intelligence agency.”
“The CIA?”
“No. The Agency for Intelligence Data Coordination-the AIDC-but I doubt there’s a record that I ever worked for them in any capacity. The agency’s charter does not permit it to employ people who did my type of work, and there is nothing on paper about this unit. I received verbal orders. As far as the army is concerned, the unit never existed.”
“Why the secrecy?”
“Murder,” he answered calmly.
“You murdered people?” Ami asked, not certain she’d heard him correctly.
Morelli nodded.
“Where?”
“Southeast Asia.”
“That was okay, wasn’t it? There was a war in Southeast Asia.”
Morelli looked Ami in the eye. “That wasn’t the only place. I’ve killed people in Europe and I’ve murdered Americans in the United States.”
“But if you were ordered to…to do that?”
Morelli smiled sadly. “I’m not going to justify my actions. It was murder. There’s no other way to look at it. And I did other things that were just as bad.”
“Like what?”
“How much do you know about the Vietnam War?”
“Just what I learned in school in history class.”
“Do you know what the Shan Hills are?”
“I’ve heard of them. They’re in Burma, right?”
