A Darkness More Than Night - Michael Connelly [116]
“Harry? How are you?”
“Hanging in. What do you two have cooking?”
“It’s funny you should mention that. Roger’s on his way over and I’m going to cook tonight. We’re going to go over Annabelle Crowe’s grand jury testimony one more time. You want to come by?”
He knew she lived up in Agua Dulce, an hour’s drive north.
“Uh, you know what, I’ve been driving all day. Down to Long Beach and back. You think you really need me there?”
“Totally optional. Just didn’t want you to feel left out. But that’s not why we were calling.”
“What was the reason?”
He was in the kitchen, sliding a six-pack of Anchor Steam onto a shelf in the refrigerator. He pulled one bottle out of its sleeve and closed the door.
“Roger and I have been conferencing all weekend about this. We also talked to Alice Short about it.”
Alice Short was a chief deputy who was in charge of major trials. Their boss. It sounded as though they had been contacted about the Gunn case.
“What’s the ‘it’ you’re talking about?” Bosch asked. He slid the bottle into the opener and yanked down, popping the cap.
“Well, we think the case has really gone by the numbers. Really fallen together. In fact, it’s bulletproof, Harry, and we think we should pull the trigger tomorrow.”
Bosch was quiet a moment while he tried to decipher all the weaponry coding.
“You’re saying you’re going to rest tomorrow?”
“We think so. We’ll probably talk about it again tonight but we have Alice’s blessing and Roger really thinks it’s the right move. What we’d do is put on a bunch of cleanup wits in the morning and then bring Annabelle Crowe out after lunch. We’d end with her — a human story. She’ll be our closer.”
Bosch was speechless. It might be the right move from a prosecutorial point of view. But that would put J. Reason Fowkkes in control of things as early as Tuesday.
“Harry, what do you think?”
He took a long pull on the bottle. The beer wasn’t that cold. It had been in the car for a while.
“I think you only get one shot,” he said, continuing the weaponry imagery. “You two better think long and hard about it tonight while you’re making the pasta. You don’t get a second chance to put on a case.”
“We know, Harry. And how’d you know I was making pasta?”
He could hear the smile in her voice.
“Lucky guess.”
“Well, don’t worry, we’ll think long and hard. We have been.”
She paused, allowing him a chance to respond but he was silent.
“In case we go this way, what’s the status on Crowe?”
“She’s waiting in the wings. Good to go.”
“Can you reach her tonight?”
“No problem. I’ll tell her to be there by noon tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Harry. See you in the morning.”
They hung up. Bosch thought about things. He wondered if he should call McCaleb and tell him what was happening. He decided to wait. He walked out into the living room and turned on the stereo. The Art Pepper CD was still in the play slot. The music soon filled the room.
35
McCaleb was leaning against the Cherokee parked in front of the LAPD’s Hollywood station when Winston pulled up in a BMW Z 3 and parked. When she got out she saw McCaleb studying her car.
“I was running late. I didn’t have time to pick up a company car.”
“I like your wheels. You know what they say about L.A., you are what you drive.”
“Don’t start profiling me, Terry. It’s too fucking early. Where’s the book and the tape?”
He noted her profanity but kept his thoughts on that to himself. He pushed off the car and went around to the passenger side. He opened the door and took out the murder book and the crime scene tape. He handed them to her and she took them back to her car. McCaleb closed and locked the Cherokee, looking down through the window to the floor of the backseat where he had covered the Kinko’s box with the morning newspaper. Before coming to the rendezvous he had gone to the twenty-four-hour shop on Sunset and photocopied the entire murder book. The tape was a problem; he didn’t know where to get it dubbed on short notice. So he’d simply bought a videocassette at the Rite-Aid near