The Overlook - Michael Connelly [55]
He entered the building through the law enforcement door and told the U.S. marshal who checked his ID that he was going up to the FBI. He took the elevator up to the fourteenth floor and was greeted by Brenner as soon as the doors came open. The word that Bosch was in the building had obviously been sent up from below.
“I thought you got the message,” Brenner said.
“What message?”
“That the status conference was canceled.”
“I think I should’ve gotten the message as soon as you people showed up. There never was going to be a status conference, was there?”
Brenner ignored the question.
“Bosch, what do you want?”
“I want to see Agent Walling.”
“I’m her partner. Anything you want to tell her, you can tell me.”
“Only her. I want to talk to her.”
Brenner studied him for a moment.
“Come with me,” he finally said.
He didn’t wait for a reply. He used a clip-on ID card to open a door and Bosch followed him through. They went down a long hallway and Brenner threw questions over his shoulder as he walked.
“Where’s your partner?” he asked.
“He’s back at the crime scene,” Bosch said.
It wasn’t a lie. Bosch just neglected to say which crime scene Ferras was at.
“Besides,” he added, “I thought it would be safer for him there. I don’t want you people leaning on him to get to me.”
Brenner suddenly stopped, pivoted sharply and was in Bosch’s face.
“Do you know what you are doing, Bosch? You’re compromising an investigation that could have far-reaching implications. Where is the witness?”
Bosch shrugged as if to say his response was obvious.
“Where’s Alicia Kent?”
Brenner shook his head but didn’t answer.
“Wait in here,” he said. “I’ll go get Agent Walling.”
Brenner opened a door that had the number 1411 on it and stepped back for Bosch to enter. As he stepped through the door Bosch saw that it was a small, windowless interview room similar to the one he had spent time in that morning with Jesse Mitford. Bosch was suddenly shoved into the room from behind and he turned just in time to see Brenner out in the hallway pulling the door closed.
“Hey!”
Bosch grabbed for the doorknob but it was too late. The door was locked from the outside. He pounded twice on it but knew that Brenner was not about to open it. He turned away and looked at the small space he was confined in. Similar to those at the LAPD, the interview room contained only three items of furniture. A small square table and two chairs. Assuming there was a camera somewhere he raised his hand and shot his middle finger into the air. He gave his hand a twirl to emphasize the message.
Bosch pulled one of the chairs out and sat down on it backwards, ready to wait them out. He took his cell phone out and opened it. He knew that if they were watching him they wouldn’t want him calling out and reporting his situation—it could be embarrassing for the bureau. But when he looked at the screen there was no signal. It was a safe room. Radio signals could not get out or in. Leave it to the feds, Bosch thought. They think of everything.
A long twenty minutes went by and then the door finally opened. Rachel Walling stepped in. She closed the door, took the chair opposite Bosch and quietly sat down.
“Sorry, Harry, I was over at Tactical.”
“What the fuck, Rachel. You people hold cops against their will now?”
She looked surprised.
“What are you talking about?”
“What are you talking about?” Bosch repeated in a mocking voice. “Your partner locked me in here.”
“It wasn’t locked when I came in. Try it now.”
Bosch waved all the bullshit away.
“Forget it. I don’t have time to play games. What’s going on with the investigation?”
She pursed her lips as if considering how to respond.
“What’s going on is that you and your department have been running around like thieves in a jewelry store, smashing every goddamn case in sight. You can’t tell the glass from the diamonds.”
Bosch nodded.
“So you know about Ramin Samir.”
“Who doesn’t? It’s already on I-Missed-It News. What happened up there?”
“A class-A fuckup is what happened. We were set up.