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The Drop(46)

By:Michael Connelly


“No, I didn’t, Bosch. There was no need to. The guy was going down the fire escape a good two to four hours before our guy took the high dive. They are unrelated matters. You sending us up that street was a complete waste of our time. That was what was stupid.”

Bosch knew that if he lost his temper with Solomon, the detective would be completely useless for the rest of the investigation. He wasn’t ready to lose him yet. Once again, he moved on.

“Okay, on the other report, your interview with this writer, Thomas Rapport. You have any more details on why he’s in L.A.?”

“I don’t know, he’s some kind of a big screenwriter. The studio put him up in one of those bungalows in the back where Belushi died. That’s two grand a night and he said he was in town for the whole week. He said he’s doing rewrites on a script.”

At least that answered one question before Bosch had to ask it. How long would they have local access to Rapport if they needed him?

“So did the studio pop for a limo? How’d he get to the hotel?”

“Uh . . . no, he took a cab in from the airport. His plane landed early and the studio car wasn’t there yet, so he grabbed a cab. He said that’s why Irving got in front of him at the check-in. They arrived at the same time but Rapport had to wait for the cab driver to print out a receipt and it took forever. He was sort of pissed about that. He was on East Coast time and dead tired. He wanted to get into his bungalow.”

Bosch felt a brief stirring in his gut. It was a mixture of instinct and knowing that there was an order of things in the world. The truth was revealed to the righteous. He often felt it at the moment things started to tumble together on a case.

“Jerry,” he said, “did Rapport tell you which cab company brought him to the hotel?”

“You mean what kind?”

“Yeah, you know, Valley Cab, Yellow Cab, which company? It says it on the door of the taxi.”

“He didn’t say but what’s that got to do with anything?”

“Maybe nothing. Did you get a cell phone for this guy?”

“No, but he’s there at the hotel for a week.”

“Right. I got that. I tell you what, Jerry, I want you and your partner to go back over to the hotel and ask about the man on the fire escape. Find out if they had anybody working that night who could have been the man on the ladder. And find out about the uniforms they wear.”

“Come on, Bosch. It was at least two hours before Irving went down. Most likely longer.”

“I don’t care if it was two days, I want you out there asking the questions. Send me the report when you’re done. By tonight.”

Bosch closed the phone. He turned and looked at Chu.

“Let me see the file on Irving’s taxi franchise client.”

Chu looked through the stack of files and handed one to Bosch.

“What’s going on?” Chu asked.

“Nothing yet. What are you working on?”

“The insurance. So far, it’s all legit. But I have to make a call.”

“Me, too.”

Bosch picked up his desk phone and called the Chateau Marmont. He was in luck. When he was transferred to Thomas Rapport’s bungalow the writer answered.

“Mr. Rapport, this is Detective Bosch with the LAPD. I have a few follow-up questions regarding the interview you gave my colleagues earlier. Would this be a good time to talk?”

“Uh, not really. I’m in the middle of a scene right at the moment.”

“A scene?”

“A movie scene. I’m writing a movie scene.”

“I see and I understand, but this will only take a few minutes of your time and this is very important to the investigation.”

“Did the guy jump or was he pushed?”

“We can’t say for sure, sir, but if you answer a couple questions, we will be closer to knowing.”

“Go ahead, Detective. I’m all yours. From your voice, I’m picturing you as sort of a Columbo-looking guy.”

“That’s fine, sir. Can I start?”

“Yes, Detective.”

“You arrived at the hotel on Sunday evening by taxi, is that correct?”

“Yes, it is. Direct from LAX. Archway was supposed to send a car but I got in early and there was no car. I didn’t want to wait, so I just took a cab.”

“Do you happen to remember the name of the cab company you used?”

“The company? You mean like Checker Cab or something?”

“Yes, sir. We have several companies that are licensed to operate in the city. I’m looking for the name that was on the door of your cab.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know it. There was just a line of taxis and I jumped in one.”