“Okay, do it. The name is Chilton Aaron Hardy.”
Bosch waited and heard typing.
“Uh, he’s here,” Manuel said. “But he doesn’t get his oh-two from us anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“It shows our last delivery to him was July of oh-eight. He either died or started getting it from somewhere else. Probably somewhere cheaper. We lose a lot of business that way.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m looking at it right here.”
“Thank you, Manuel.”
Bosch disconnected the call. He put his phone away and pulled his gun back out.
35
As Bosch descended the stairs his adrenaline level rose. He saw that Hardy had not moved from his chair but he was now smoking a cigarette. Chu was sitting on the arm of the couch, keeping watch.
“I made him turn off the tank,” he said. “So he wouldn’t blow us all up.”
“There’s nothing in the tank,” Bosch said.
“What?”
Bosch didn’t answer. He moved across the room until he was standing directly in front of Hardy.
“Stand up.”
Hardy looked up, confusion on his face.
“I said stand up.”
“What’s going on?”
Bosch reached down with both hands, grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him up out of the chair. He spun him around and pushed him face-first against the wall.
“Harry, what are you doing?” Chu asked. “He’s an old—”
“It’s him,” Bosch said.
“What?”
“It’s the son, not the father.”
Bosch pulled his handcuffs off his belt and bound Hardy’s arms behind his back.
“Chilton Hardy, you’re under arrest for the murder of Lily Price.”
Hardy said nothing as Bosch recited his Constitutional rights. He turned his cheek to the wall and even had a small smile on his face.
“Harry, is the father upstairs?” Chu asked from behind him.
“No.”
“Then, where is he?”
“I think he’s dead. Junior’s been living here as him, collecting his pension and social security and all that stuff. Open the file. Where’s the DL photo?”
Chu stepped forward with the blowup shot of Chilton Aaron Hardy Jr. Bosch turned Hardy around and then held him against the wall with one hand on his chest. He held the photo up next to his face. He then flicked the thick eyeglasses off him and they fell to the floor.
“It’s him. He shaved his head for the DL photo. Changed his appearance. We never pulled up his father’s photo. I guess we should have.”
Bosch handed the photo back to Chu. Hardy’s smile grew broader.
“You think this is funny?” Bosch asked.
Hardy nodded.
“I think it’s pretty fucking funny that you don’t have any evidence and you don’t have a case.”
His voice was different now. A deeper timbre. Not the fragile old man’s voice from before.
“And I think it’s pretty fucking funny that you searched this place illegally. No judge is going to believe I gave you permission. Too bad you didn’t find anything. I’d love watching the judge throw it all out.”
Bosch grabbed a handful of Hardy’s shirt and pulled him off the wall, then slammed him back against it. He felt his rage building.
“Hey, partner?” he said. “Go out to the car and get your computer. I want to write up a search warrant right now.”
“Harry, I already checked on my phone, there’s no Wi-Fi here. How’re we going to send it in?”
“Partner, just go get the computer. We’ll worry about Wi-Fi after you write it up. And close the door when you leave.”
“Okay, partner. I’ll go get the laptop.”
Message received.
Bosch never took his eyes off Hardy’s. He saw them register the situation, that he was about to be left alone with Bosch, and the beginning of fear entered their shiny coldness. As soon as he heard the front door close, Bosch pulled his Glock and pushed the muzzle into the flesh under Hardy’s chin.
“Guess what, asshole, we’re going to end this right here. Because you’re right, we don’t have enough. And I’m not letting you run free another fucking day.”
He violently yanked Hardy off the wall and spun him to the floor. Hardy crashed into the side table, knocking the ashtray and water glass onto the rug, and landed on his back. Bosch dropped down on him, straddling his torso.
“The way this will work is, we didn’t know it was you, you see? We thought it was your father all along and when my partner went out to the car you jumped me. There was a struggle for the gun and—guess what?—you didn’t win.”