The Drop(24)

“His son checked in without luggage. He took off his clothes and hung them neatly in the closet. A bathrobe was draped over a chair on the balcony. He went down face-first but didn’t scream because no one in the hotel heard a thing. He did not put his arms out to break his fall. For these and other reasons it doesn’t look like an accident to me. If you are telling me that you need it to be an accident, then come out and say it, Kiz, and then get yourself another boy.”

Her face showed the pain of his betrayal.

“Harry, how can you say that to me? I was your partner. You saved my life once and you think I would repay you by putting you into something that would compromise you?”

“I don’t know, Kiz. I’m just trying to do my job here and it seems like there’s a lot of high jingo on it.”

“There is, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been watching out for you. The chief told you he wasn’t looking to cook the book on this. I’m not either. All I wanted was an update and now all of this . . . bile comes out.”

Bosch realized his anger and frustrations were misdirected.

“Kiz, if that’s the way it is, then I believe you. And I’m sorry to take it out on you. I should’ve known anything with Irving attached was going to go this way. Just keep him off me until we get an autopsy. After that, we’ll be able to draw some conclusions and you and the chief will be the first to know.”

“Okay, Harry. I’m sorry, too.”

“Talk to you tomorrow.”

Bosch was about to step away when he changed direction and came back to her. He gave her a one-armed hug.

“Are we okey?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said.

“How’s your shoulder? I saw you switch hands with your case.”

“It’s fine.”

“What’s wrong with Maddie?”

“She’s got a bug, that’s all.”

“Tell her I said hi.”

“I will. See you, Kiz.”

He left her then and headed home. As he moved in slow traffic on the 101, he wasn’t feeling good about either of the cases he was working. And he was upset that those feelings had made him act poorly with Rider. Most cops would cherish having an inside source in the OCP. At times he certainly had. But he had just treated her badly and had no legitimate excuse. He would have to make it up to her.

He was also bothered by Dr. Stone and the way he had arrogantly dismissed her cause. In many ways, she was doing more than he was. Trying to stop crimes before they happened. Trying to save people from becoming victims. He had treated her like a sympathizer of the predators and he knew that was not the case. It was a city where not enough people cared about making it a better and safer place to live. She did and he had dismissed her. Shame on me, he thought.

He pulled his phone and called his daughter’s cell.

“You doing okay?”

“Yeah. I’m feeling better.”

“Did Ashlyn’s mom check on you?”

“Yes, they both came by after school and brought me a cupcake.”

That morning Bosch had e-mailed her best friend’s mother to ask for the favor.

“Did they bring you your homework?”

“Yes, but I’m not feeling that much better. Did you get a case? You never called today, so I’m thinking you did.”

“Sorry about that. Actually, I got two cases.”

He noted her skill in changing the subject from homework.

“Wow.”

“Yeah, so I’m going to be a little late. I’ve got one more stop and then I’ll be home. You want soup from Jerry’s Deli? I’m going to be up in the Valley.”

“Chicken noodle.”

“You got it. Make a sandwich if you get hungry before I get back. And make sure the door’s locked.”

“I know, Dad.”

“And you know where the Glock is.”

“Yes, I know where it is and I know how to use it.”

“Okay, that’s my girl.”

He closed the phone.





10




It took him forty-five minutes in rush-hour traffic to get back to Panorama City. He cruised by the Buena Vista apartments and saw lights on behind the shaded windows he believed belonged to the office he had been in earlier. He also saw a driveway on the side of the building that led to a fenced parking area in the rear. There was a no trespassing sign on the gate and it was topped with barbed wire.

At the next corner he turned left and soon came to an alley that would take him behind the row of apartment buildings that fronted Woodman. He came to the fenced parking lot behind the Buena Vista and pulled to the side of the alley next to a green trash bin. He surveyed the well-lit lot and noted the eight-foot security fence that surrounded it. It was topped with three strands of barbed wire. There was a walk-through gate for accessing the trash bin but it was padlocked and also topped with barbed wire. It appeared to be a fully secured compound.