The Overlook - Michael Connelly [35]
“It’s Harry Bosch,” he said. “I need to talk to you about things and I want my cigarette ashes back. That crime scene was mine.”
He hung up. He knew the message would annoy her, maybe even make her mad. He knew that he was inextricably heading toward a confrontation with Rachel and the bureau that probably wasn’t necessary and could easily be avoided.
But Bosch couldn’t bring himself to roll over. Not even for Rachel and the memory of what they once had. Not even for the hope of a future with her that he still carried like a number in a cell phone’s heart.
TEN
BOSCH AND FERRAS STEPPED OUT the front door of the Mark Twain Hotel and surveyed the morning. The light was just beginning to enter the sky. The marine layer was coming in gray and thick and was deepening the shadows in the streets. It made it look like a city of ghosts and that was fine with Bosch. It matched his outlook.
“You think he’ll stay put?” Ferras asked.
Bosch shrugged.
“He’s got no place else to go,” he said.
They had just checked their witness into the hotel under the alias Stephen King. Jesse Mitford had turned into a valuable asset. He was Bosch’s ace in the hole. Though he had not been able to provide a description of the man who shot Stanley Kent and took the cesium, Mitford had been able to give the investigators a clear understanding of what had transpired at the Mulholland overlook. He would also be useful if the investigation ever led to an arrest and trial. His story could be used as the narrative of the crime. A prosecutor could use him to connect the dots for the jury and that made him valuable, whether or not he could ID the shooter.
After Bosch had consulted with Lieutenant Gandle, it was decided that they shouldn’t lose track of the young drifter. Gandle approved a hotel voucher that would keep Mitford in the Mark Twain for four days. By then things would be clearer in regard to which way the case was going to go.
Bosch and Ferras got into the Crown Victoria that Ferras had earlier checked out of the car shed and headed down Wilcox to Sunset. Bosch was behind the wheel. At the light he got out his cell phone. He hadn’t heard back from Rachel Walling, so he called the number her partner had given him. Brenner answered right away and Bosch proceeded cautiously.
“Just checking in,” he said. “We still on for the meeting at nine?”
Bosch wanted to make sure he was still part of the investigation before updating Brenner on anything.
“Uh, yes . . . yes, we’re still on for the meeting but it’s been pushed back.”
“Till when?”
“I think it’s ten now. We’ll let you know.”
The answer didn’t make it sound like the meeting with the locals was a done deal. He decided to press Brenner.
“Where will it be? At Tactical?”
Bosch knew from working with Walling before that the Tactical unit was off campus in a secret location. He wanted to see if Brenner would slip.
“No, in the federal building downtown. Fourteenth floor. Just ask for the TIU meeting. How helpful was the witness?”
Bosch decided to hold his cards close until he had a better idea of his standing.
“He saw the shooting from a distance. Then he saw the transfer. He said one man did it all, killed Stanley Kent and then moved the pig from the Porsche to the back of another vehicle. The other guy waited in another car and just watched.”
“You get any plates from him?”
“No, no plates. Mrs. Kent’s car was probably the one used to make the transfer. That way there would be no cesium trace in their own car.”
“What about the suspect he did see?”
“Like I said, he couldn’t ID him. He was still wearing a ski mask. Other than that, nada.”
There was a pause before Brenner responded.
“Too bad,” he said. “What did you do with him?”
“The kid? We just dropped him off.”
“Where’s he live?”
“Halifax, Canada.”
“Bosch, you know what I mean.”
Bosch noticed the change in tone. That and the use of his last name. He didn’t think Brenner was casually asking about Jesse Mitford’s exact location.
“He’s got no local