“And Harris got off.”
“Yes.”
Bosch paused for a moment, believing the break was needed before the next question.
“What changed, Mrs. Kincaid?” he finally asked. “What made you send those notes to Howard Elias?”
“My suspicions were never far away. Then one day, a few months ago, I overheard part of a conversation my husband was having with his… his friend.”
She said the last word as if it was the worst thing you could ever say about anybody.
“Richter?”
“Yes. They thought I wasn’t home and I wasn’t supposed to be. I was supposed to be at lunch with my girlfriends at the club. Mountaingate. Only I stopped going to lunches with my girlfriends after Stacey… well, you know, lunches and that sort of thing didn’t interest me anymore. So I would tell my husband I was going to lunch but instead I’d go visit Stacey. At the cemetery…”
“Okay. I understand.”
“No, I don’t think you could understand, Detective Bosch.”
Bosch nodded.
“I’m sorry. You’re probably right. Go on, Mrs. Kincaid.”
“It was raining on that particular day. Just like today, hard and sad. So I only visited with her for a few minutes. I got back to the house early. I guess they didn’t hear me come in because of the rain. But I heard them. They were in his office talking… I’d had my suspicions so I went to the door. I didn’t make a sound. I stood outside the door and listened.”
Bosch leaned forward. This was the payoff. He’d know in a moment how legitimate she was. He doubted two men involved in the killing of a twelve-year-old girl would sit around reminiscing about it. If Kate Kincaid said that was the case, then Bosch would have to think she was lying.
“What did they say?”
“They weren’t talking in sentences. Do you understand? They were just making short comments. I could tell they were talking about girls. Different girls – it was disgusting what they said. I had no idea how organized this all was. I had deluded myself into thinking that if something had happened with Stacey it was a weakness on his part, something he struggled with. I was wrong. These men were organized predators.”
“So you were at the door listening…,” Bosch said by way of getting her back on track.
“They weren’t talking to each other. It was like they were commenting. I could tell by how they spoke that they were looking at something. And I could hear the computer – the keyboard and other sounds. Later I would be able to use the computer and find what it was they were looking at. It was young girls, ten, eleven…”
“Okay, we’ll get back to the computer in a couple of minutes. But let’s go back to what you heard. How did this… these comments lead you to conclude or know something about Stacey?”
“Because they mentioned her. I heard Richter say, ‘There she is.’ And then my husband said her name. The way he said it… almost with a longing – it wasn’t the way a father or a stepfather would have said it. And then they were quiet. I could tell, they were looking at her. I knew.”
Bosch thought about what he had seen on Rider’s computer screen the night before. It was hard for him to imagine Kincaid and Richter sitting in an office together watching the same scenes – and with decidedly different responses to them.
“And then Richter asked my husband if he’d heard from Detective Sheehan. My husband said, ‘About what?’ and Richter said for the payoff for putting Harris’s prints on Stacey’s book. My husband laughed. He said there was no payoff. He then told Richter what I had told him during the trial, about my having been to that car wash. When he was done telling it, they both laughed and my husband said, and I remember this so clearly, he said, ‘I’ve been lucky like that all my life…’ And that’s when I knew. He did it. That they did it.”
“And you decided to help Howard Elias.”
“Yes.”
“Why him? Why didn’t you go to the police?”
“Because I knew they’d never charge him. The Kincaids are a powerful family. They believe they are above the law and they are. My husband’s father put money into the pockets of every politician in this town. Democrat, Republican, it didn’t matter. They all owed him. And besides, that didn’t matter. I called Jim Camp and asked him what would happen if they ever found somebody else besides Harris that they thought took Stacey. He told me they’d never be able to try him because of the first case. All the defense would have to do was point to the first trial and say that last year they thought it was somebody else. That was enough for reasonable doubt right there. So they’d never go ahead with a case.”
Bosch nodded. He knew she was right. Going to trial against Harris put hair on the cake forever after.
“This might be a good point to take a break for a couple minutes,” he said. “I need to make a phone call.”
Bosch turned the tape recorder off. He got his cell phone out of his briefcase and told Kate Kincaid that he was going to check out the other side of the house while he made his call.
As he walked through the formal dining room and then into the kitchen Bosch called Lindell’s cell phone. The FBI agent answered immediately. Bosch spoke quietly, hoping his voice wouldn’t carry into the living room.
“This is Bosch. It’s a go. We’ve got a cooperating witness.”
“On tape?”
“On tape. She says her husband killed her daughter.”
“What about Elias?”
“Haven’t gotten there yet. I just wanted to get you people going.”
“I’ll put out the word.”
“Anybody been seen yet?”
“Not yet. It looks like the husband is still at home.” “What about Richter? He’s involved. She’s giving me stuff on him.”
“We’re not sure where he is. If he’s at his home, he hasn’t come out yet. But we’ll find him.”
“Happy hunting.”
After disconnecting he stood in the kitchen doorway and looked at Kate Kincaid. Her back was to him and she seemed to be staring at the spot where he had been sitting across from her. She didn’t move.
“Okay,” Bosch said, as he came back into the room. “Can I get you something? A glass of water?”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
He turned the tape recorder on and once again identified himself and the subject of the interview. He gave the exact time and date as well.
“You have been advised of your rights, correct, Mrs. Kincaid?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Would you like to continue the interview?”
“Yes.”
“You mentioned earlier that you decided to help Howard Elias. Why is that?”
“He was suing on behalf of Michael Harris. I wanted Michael Harris completely exonerated. And I wanted my husband and his friends exposed. I knew the authorities probably wouldn’t do it. But I knew Howard Elias was not part of that establishment. He wouldn’t be controlled by money and power. Only the truth.”
“Did you ever speak with Mr. Elias directly?”
“No. I thought my husband might be watching me. After that day when I heard them, when I knew it was him, it was impossible for me not to be completely repulsed by him. I think he realized I had come to a conclusion. I think he had Richter watch me. Richter or people working for him.”
Bosch realized that Richter could be nearby, having followed her to the house. Lindell had said the security man’s whereabouts were currently unknown. He looked at the front door and realized he had left it unlocked.
“So you sent Elias notes.”
“Yes, anonymous. I guess I wanted him to expose these people but leave me out of it… I know it was selfish. I was a horrible mother. I guess I had this fantasy that the bad men would be shown to the world without it happening to the bad woman.”