Bosch looked at us both like we were crazy.
“I can fry an egg,” he said. “That’s about it.”
“Let’s get back to the trial,” Maggie said. “I think Royce has got Jessup and Sarah. Then I think he’s got the secret witness we haven’t found. The guy from the last rehab center.”
“Edward Roman,” Bosch said.
“Right. Roman. That makes three and the fourth one could be his investigator or maybe his meth expert but is probably just bullshit. There is no fourth. So much of what Royce does is misdirection. He doesn’t want anybody’s eyes on the prize. Wants them looking anywhere but right at the truth.”
“What about Roman?” I said. “We haven’t found him, but have we figured out his testimony?”
“Not by a long shot,” Maggie said. “I’ve gone over and over this with Sarah and she has no idea what he’s going to say. She couldn’t remember ever talking about her sister with him.”
“The summary Royce provided in discovery says he will testify about Sarah’s ‘revelations’ about her childhood,” Bosch said. “Nothing more specific than that and, of course, Royce claims he didn’t take any notes during the interview.”
“Look,” I said, “we have his record and we know exactly what kind of guy we’re dealing with here. He’s going to say whatever Royce wants him to say. It’s that simple. Whatever works for the defense. So we should be less concerned by what he says-because we know it will be lies-and more concerned with knocking him out of the box. What do we have that can help us there?”
Maggie and I both looked at Bosch and he was ready for us.
“I think I might have something. I’m going to go see somebody tonight. If it pans out we’ll have it in the morning. I’ll tell you then.”
My frustrations with Bosch’s methods of investigation and communication boiled over at that point.
“Harry, come on. We’re part of a team here. This secret agent stuff doesn’t really work when we’re in that courtroom every day with our asses on the line.”
Bosch looked down at his plate and I saw the slow burn. His face grew as dark as the sauce.
“Your asses on the line?” he said. “I didn’t see anywhere in the surveillance reports that Jessup was hanging around outside your house, Haller, so don’t tell me about your ass being on the line. Your job is in that courtroom. It’s nice and safe and sometimes you win and sometimes you lose. But no matter what happens, you’re back in court the next day. You want your ass on the line, try working out there.”
He pointed out the window toward the view of the city.
“Hey, guys, let’s just calm down here,” Maggie said quickly. “Harry, what’s the matter? Has Jessup gone back to Woodrow Wilson? Maybe we should just revoke this guy and put him back in lockup.”
Bosch shook his head.
“Not to my street. He hasn’t been back there since that first night and he hasn’t been up to Mulholland in more than a week.”
“Then what is it?”
Bosch put his fork down and pushed his plate back.
“We already know there’s a good chance that Jessup has a gun from that meeting the SIS saw him have with a convicted gun dealer. They didn’t see what he got from the guy, but since it came wrapped in a towel, it doesn’t take a lot to figure it out. And then, you want to know what happened last night? Some bright guy on the surveillance decides to leave his post to use the john without telling anybody and Jessup walked right out of the net.”
“They lost him?” Maggie asked.
“Yeah, until I found him right before he found me, which might not have turned out so well. And you know what he’s up to? He’s building a dungeon for somebody and for all I know-”
He leaned forward over the table and finished in an urgent whisper.
“-might be for my kid!”
“Whoa, wait, Harry,” Maggie said. “Back up. He’s building a dungeon? Where?”
“Under the pier. There’s like a storage room. He put a lock on the door and dropped canned food off there last night. Like he’s getting it ready for somebody.”
“Okay, that’s scary,” Maggie said. “But your daughter? We don’t know that. You said he went by your place only the one time. What makes you think-?”
“Because I can’t afford not to think it. You understand?”
She nodded.
“Yes, I do. Then I come back to what I just said. We violate him for associating with a known criminal-the gun dealer-and pull his OR release. There’s only a few days left in the trial and he obviously didn’t act out or make the mistake we thought he would. Let’s be safe and put him back inside until this is over.”
“And what if we don’t get the conviction?” Bosch said. “What happens then? This guy walks and that’ll also be the end of the surveillance. He’ll be out there without any eyes on him.”
That brought a silence to the table. I stared at Bosch and understood the pressure he was under. The case, the threat to his daughter, and no wife or ex-wife to help him out at home.
Bosch finally broke the uneasy silence.
“Maggie, are you taking Hayley home with you tonight?”
Maggie nodded.
“Yes, when we’re finished here.”
“Can Maddie stay with you two tonight? She brought a change of clothes in her backpack. I’d come by in the morning in time to take her to school.”
The request seemed to take Maggie by surprise, especially since the girls had just met. Bosch pressed her.
“I need to meet somebody tonight and I don’t know where it will take me,” Bosch said. “It might even lead to Roman. I need to be able to move without worrying about Maddie.”
She nodded.
“Okay, that’s fine. It sounds like they’re becoming fast friends. I just hope they don’t stay up all night.”
“Thank you, Maggie.”
About thirty seconds of silence went by before I spoke.
“Tell us about this dungeon, Harry.”
“I was standing in it last night.”
“Why the Santa Monica pier?”
“My guess is that it’s because of the proximity to what’s on top of the pier.”
“Prey.”
Bosch nodded.
“But what about noise? You’re saying this place is directly below the pier?”
“There are ways of controlling human sound. And last night the sound of waves crashing against the pilings under there was so loud you could’ve screamed all night and nobody would’ve heard you. You probably wouldn’t even hear a gunshot from down there.”
Bosch spoke with a certain authority of the dark places of the world and the evil they held. I lost my appetite then and pushed my plate away. I felt dread come inside me.
Dread for Melissa Landy and all the other victims in the world.
Thirty-six
Wednesday, April 7, 11:00 P.M .
Gilbert and Sullivan were waiting for him in a car parked on Lankershim Boulevard near its northern terminus at San Fernando Road. It was a blighted area populated primarily with used-car lots and repair shops. In the midst of all of this low-rent industry was a run-down motel advertising rooms for fifty dollars a week. The motel had no name on display. Just the lighted sign that said MOTEL.
Gilbert and Sullivan were Gilberto Reyes and John Sullivan, a pair of narcs assigned to the Valley Enforcement Team, a street-level drug unit. When Bosch was looking for Edward Roman he put the word out in all such units in the department. His assumption from Roman’s record was that he had never gotten away from the life as Sarah Gleason had. There had to be somebody in the department’s narco units with a line on him.
It paid off with a call from Reyes. He and his partner didn’t have a bead on Roman but they knew him from past interactions on the street and knew where his current trick partner was holed up and apparently awaiting his return. Long-term drug addicts often partnered with a prostitute, offering her protection in exchange for a share of the drugs her earnings bought.