The Wrong Side of Goodbye

by Michael Connelly

  “That’s where he probably stole it from,” Bosch said. “You need help?”

  “I got it,” Sisto said.

  He hoisted the manhole out and it clattered onto the concrete floor. Bosch leaned over the hole and looked down. The overhead light in the garage revealed a ladder leading into darkness. Bosch went over to the stack of boxes where he had seen the light sticks earlier. He yanked open the box and took out several. Behind him he heard Sisto yell into the hole he had opened.

  “Bella?”

  There was no response.

  Bosch returned and started opening the sticks, snapping them on and dropping them down the hole. He then started down the ladder. The descent was no more than ten feet but there was no last rung on the ladder and he almost fell as he placed his foot where the rung should have been. He lowered himself the rest of the way and then reached into his back pocket for the flashlight. He turned it on and played it against the concrete walls of a chamber that was still clearly under construction. There were iron supports and plywood molds for concrete. Plastic sheeting hung from makeshift scaffolding. There was air but not enough of it. Bosch found himself on the verge of hyperventilating as he gulped for oxygen. He guessed that an air-cleaning and -filtration system was not in place or not operating. The only fresh air entering the chamber was from the opening above.

  He realized that this was Dockweiler’s dream. He had been building an underground bunker where he would be able to retreat and hide when the big quake hit or the bomb was dropped or the terrorists came.

  “Anything?” Sisto called down.

  “Still looking,” Bosch said.

  “I’m coming down.”

  “Just watch the last rung. It isn’t there.”

  Bosch started making his way around the construction debris and down the length of the chamber. When he pushed through a plastic curtain he had to step up to a section that was nearly complete, its walls smooth and floor level and carpeted in black rubber matting. He swept his flashlight across all surfaces and saw nothing. Bella was not here.

  Bosch turned in a complete circle. He had been wrong.

  Sisto pushed through the plastic curtain.

  “She’s not here?”

  “No.”

  “Shit.”

  “We’ve got to look in the house.”

  “Maybe he was telling the truth about the movie ranch.”

  Bosch pushed back through the plastic and made the step down into the first chamber. When he got to the ladder, he realized that there wasn’t a missing rung. The ladder simply extended down to the level the floor would be at when the chamber was completed.

  He turned around and almost banged into Sisto. He pushed past him and then again through the plastic curtain to the finished room. He trained his light over the floor, looking for a seam.

  “I thought we were going back up,” Sisto said.

  “Help me,” Bosch said. “I think she’s here. Pull up this matting.”

  They each went to a side of the room and started pulling the rubber matting back. It was one piece cut to fit the space. As it was rolled back Bosch could see wooden planking beneath. He started looking for a hinge or a seam or some indication of a hidden compartment but he saw nothing.

  Bosch banged his fist down on the wood and determined there was a definite hollow below it. Sisto started pounding the floor as well.

  “Bella? Bella?”

  Still no response. Bosch scuttled across the floor to the plastic curtain, grabbed it, and jerked it down, bringing a metal frame crashing down with it.

  “Watch it!” Sisto yelled.

  One arm of the frame hit Bosch on the shoulder but he wasn’t fazed. He was flying on adrenaline.

  He dropped down to the front chamber again and put the light on the facing of the eight-inch step riser. He saw a seam running completely around the facing that curved with the contour of the concrete floor. On his knees, he moved in and tried to open it but he couldn’t figure it out. “Help me get this open,” he called to Sisto.

  The young detective got down next to Bosch and tried to get his fingernails into the seam. He could not get a grip.

  “Look out,” Bosch said.

  He grabbed a piece of the curtain’s fallen frame and drove its edge into the seam. Once it was jammed in tightly he levered the frame upward and the seam opened an inch. Sisto put his fingers in and pulled the board free.

  Bosch dropped the frame with a metal clatter and put his light into the shallow space under the second room’s floor.

  He saw bare feet heels-down on a blanket and tied together. The space under the floor was recessed and deeper than the dimensions of the floor and step indicated from the outside.

  “She’s here!”

  He reached in and gripped either side of the blanket and pulled it out. Bella Lourdes came sliding out of the shallow black space on a blanket spread over a plywood pallet. She barely cleared the opening created by the step’s riser. She was bound and gagged and bloodied. Her clothes were gone and she was either dead or unconscious.

  “Bella!” Sisto yelled.

  “Call for another RA,” Bosch ordered. “They’ll need a portable stretcher to get her through the manhole.”

  As Sisto pulled his phone, Bosch turned back to Bella’s side. He bent down and put his ear to her mouth. He felt the faint wind of breath. She was alive.

  “I got no signal!” Sisto said in frustration.

  “Go up,” Bosch yelled back. “Go back up!”

  Sisto ran to the ladder and started climbing. Bosch pulled his jacket off and put it over Bella’s body. He pulled the pallet closer to the ladder and the air from the manhole.

  Bella started to regain consciousness as she got more air. Her eyes opened and they were startled, confused. She started shaking.

  “Bella?” Bosch said. “It’s me, Harry. You’re safe and we’re going to get you out of here.”

  34

  Bosch spent the entire night with the Sheriff’s investigators, first talking them through the steps that led to the arrival of the San Fernando officers at Dockweiler’s home and then walking them through a play-by-play accounting of the moves that led to the shooting. Bosch had just been through the process the year before after a shooting in West Hollywood. He knew what to expect and knew it was routine, and yet he could not take it as such. He knew he needed to carefully make the case that his decision to fire through the window at Dockweiler’s back was warranted and unavoidable. Essentially, Dockweiler’s pointing a weapon at the three officers in the kitchen made the use of deadly force acceptable.

  The investigative report would take weeks to put together as investigators waited on ballistic and forensic reports and collated it all with the interviews of the officers involved and schematic drawings of the shooting scene. It would then be presented to the district attorney’s police shooting unit for another review, which would also take several weeks. A final declaration of the shooting as justified and within the scope of police authority would then be issued.

  Bosch wasn’t worried about his actions and he also knew that Bella Lourdes would be a significant factor in the investigation. The fact that she was rescued from Dockweiler’s underground shelter would blow away any possible media backlash that could put pressure on the D.A.’s Office. It would be hard to question the tactics resulting in the shooting of a man who had abducted a police officer, sexually assaulted her, and then held her in an underground chamber with the obvious intention of keeping her alive— the food he had brought home—for repeated assaults before eventually killing her.

  It was dawn by the time the investigators said they were finished with Bosch. They told him to go home and get some rest and that they might have further questions over the next couple of days before they moved into the collating and writing phase of the investigation. Bosch said he would be available.

  Harry had learned during the course of his interview that Lourdes had been transported to the trauma center at Holy Cross. On hi
s way home he stopped by the hospital to see if he could get an update on her condition. He found Valdez in the waiting room of the trauma center and he could tell he had been there all night since being released by the Sheriff’s investigators. He was sitting on a couch next to a woman Bosch recognized as Bella’s partner from the photos on her cubicle’s wall.

  “You finished with the Sheriff’s investigators?” Valdez said.

  “For now,” Bosch said. “They sent me home. How is Bella?”

  “She’s sleeping. Taryn here has been allowed to go back and see her a couple of times.”

  Bosch introduced himself to Taryn and she thanked him for his part in the rescue. Bosch just nodded, feeling more guilty for his part in sending Lourdes to Dockweiler than good about rescuing her from him.

  Bosch looked at Valdez and made a slight head nod toward the hallway. He wanted to talk but not within earshot of Taryn. Valdez got up and excused himself and then walked with Bosch into the hallway.

  “So did you get a chance to talk to Bella and find out what happened?” Bosch asked.

  “Briefly,” Valdez said. “She’s in bad shape emotionally and I just didn’t want to put her through it. I mean, there’s no hurry, is there?”

  “No.”

  “Anyway, she said she went over to the yard about noon and nobody was around because it was lunchtime. She went into the offices and found Dockweiler eating at his desk. When she asked about the metal detector, he volunteered to put it in a truck and take it up there to the house.”

  “And she said yes because I wasn’t there to help.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. You told her to take Sisto, and besides, Dockweiler, no matter what kind of an asshole he is, is a former cop. She had no reason to feel unsafe.”

  “So when did he grab her?”

  “They went to the house and searched. The metal detector was heavy and he volunteered to drive it up in a city truck and operate it. You were right. There were keys in the bushes. She just didn’t know they were his. He had parked the truck in the back by the garage so it was pretty secluded. The victim from the attempted assault Friday had not come back yet and there was nobody around. He asked her to help him get the metal detector back in the truck and that’s when he grabbed her from behind and choked her out. He must’ve drugged her then, because she was out a long time. When she woke up she was already down in that dungeon and he was on top of her. He was rough … she’s pretty banged up.”

  Bosch shook his head. It was impossible to imagine what Lourdes had experienced.

  “The sick fuck,” Valdez said. “He told her he was going to keep her alive down there. He said she would never see sunlight again…”

  Bosch was rescued from the grim details by Taryn, who entered the hallway looking for him.

  “I just went back to tell her you were here,” she said to Bosch. “She’s awake and wants to see you.”

  “She doesn’t have to see me,” Bosch said. “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “No, she wants to. Really.”

  “Okay, then.”

  Taryn led Bosch back through the waiting room and into another hallway. As they walked she shook her head in anguish.

  “She’s tough,” Bosch said. “She’ll get through this.”

  “No, that’s not it,” Taryn said.

  “Then what?”

  “I just can’t believe that he’s here, too.”

  Bosch was confused.

  “The chief?”

  “No, Dockweiler! They have him in this hospital.”

  Now Bosch got it.

  “Does Bella know?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Well, don’t tell her.”

  “I wouldn’t. It would freak her the fuck out.”

  “As soon as he’s stabilized they’ll move him. They have a jail hospital down at County-USC. He’ll go there.”

  “Good.”

  They came to an open door and entered a private room, where Lourdes lay in a bed with side guards up. She was turned away from the door, gazing at the room’s window. Her hands lay limply at her sides. Without looking at her visitors she asked Taryn to give them privacy.

  Taryn left and Bosch stood there. He could only see Bella’s left eye but could tell it was swollen and bruised. She also had swelling and a bite mark on her lower lip.

  “Hey, Bella,” he finally said.

  “I guess I owe you that beer you were talking about,” she said.

  Bosch remembered telling her she would owe him if she found something with the metal detector.

  “Bella, I should’ve been there with you,” he said. “I am so sorry. I messed up and you paid an awful price.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she said. “You didn’t mess up. I did. I should never have turned my back on him.”

  She finally looked at him. There was hemorrhaging around both eyes from when Dockweiler had choked her. She turned a hand up on the bed, an invitation to hold it. Bosch moved closer and squeezed her hand, trying somehow to communicate what he couldn’t find the words to say.

  “Thanks for coming,” she said. “And for saving me. The chief told me. You, I would have guessed. Sisto, that was a surprise.”

  She tried to smile. Bosch shrugged.

  “You solved the case,” he said. “And that saved a lot of other women from him. Remember that.”

  She nodded and closed her eyes. Bosch could see tears.

  “Harry, I have to tell you something,” she said.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  She looked up at him again.

  “He made me tell him about you. He…hurt me and I tried but I couldn’t take it. He wanted to know how we knew about the keys. And about you. He wanted to know if you had a wife or kids. I tried to hold out, Harry.”

  Bosch squeezed her hand.

  “Don’t say any more, Bella,” he said. “You did great. We got the guy and it’s over now. That’s all that matters.”

  She closed her eyes again.

  “I’m going to go back to sleep now,” she said.

  “Sure,” he said. “I’ll be back soon, Bella. You hang in there.”

  Bosch headed down the hall, thinking about Dockweiler torturing Bella to get information about him. He wondered where that would have led if things hadn’t ended that night.

  In the waiting room Bosch found Valdez but no Taryn. The chief explained that she went home to get clothes for Bella for when she was released, whenever that would be. They spoke about the Screen Cutter case and what needed to be completed on their end for both the Sheriff’s shooting investigation and the prosecution of Dockweiler. They had forty-eight hours to present their case against the suspected rapist to the D.A.’s Office and ask for charges. Because Lourdes was out of commission in the hospital, Bosch was going to have to be point.

  “I want this case to be airtight, Harry,” Valdez said. “And I want to hit him with everything we can. Every charge possible. I don’t want him ever breathing free air again.”

  “Got it,” Bosch said. “That’s not going to be a problem. I’m going to go home, sleep till about noon, and then I’ll get back on it.”

  Valdez clapped him on the upper arm in encouragement.

  “Let me know what you need,” he said.

  “You’re staying here?” Bosch asked.

  “Yeah, for a while. Sisto texted and said he wanted to come by. I think I’ll wait for him. When this thing levels out, we need to all get together for some beers, make sure everybody’s okay.”

  “That’ll be good.”

  Bosch left the hospital then and ran into Sisto in the parking garage. He was in fresh clothes and looked like he might even have gotten some sleep.

  “How’s Bella?” he asked.

  “I don’t really know,” Bosch said. “She’s been through a kind of hell that’s hard to imagine.”

  “Did you see her?”

  “For a few minutes. The chief’s up there in the waiting room. He’ll get you in i
f he can.”

  “Cool. See you back at the bureau.”

  “I’m going to go home and sleep first.”

  Sisto nodded and walked off. Bosch thought of something and then called after him.

  “Hey, Sisto.”

  The young detective walked back.

  “Yeah, listen, I’m sorry for losing my cool and pushing you,” Bosch said. “And throwing your phone. It was just a tense situation, you know?”

  “No, man, it was cool,” Sisto said. “You were right. I don’t want to be a fuckup, Harry. I want to be a good detective like you.”

  Bosch nodded his thanks for the compliment.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll get there. And you did good work last night.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You want to do something after you see Bella?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Go over to Public Works and tape off Dockweiler’s desk. We’ll need to go through it. Then get the supervisor over there to pull records on all code inspections he did over the last four years. You’re looking for unpermitted dwellings.”

  “You think that’s how he picked the victims?”

  “I guarantee it. Pull all of those and put ’em on my desk. I’ll go through them when I get in and put him on the streets where our victims lived.”

  “Cool. We need a warrant?”

  “I don’t think so. Public records.”

  “Okay, Harry, I’m on it. They’ll be on your desk.”

  Bosch gave him a fist bump, then headed off to his car.

  35

  Bosch went home, took a long shower, and then crawled into his bed for what he intended to be a four-hour nap. He even tied a bandanna around his head and over his eyes to keep out the light of the day. But less than two hours into a deep trench of sleep he was awakened by a blaring guitar riff. He yanked the bandanna off and tried to do the same with the vestiges of sleep. Then clarity came and he realized it was the ringtone his daughter had programmed into his phone so he would know when she was calling: “Black Sun” by Death Cab for Cutie. She had programmed it into her own phone for his calls to her as well.