Bosch waited a beat but there was nothing else.
“Are you saying you want to talk to me?”
“Yeah, Bosch, have a seat. Maybe we can work something out.”
At nine Bosch sat in the lieutenant’s office, Billets behind the desk, bringing her up to date. He had an empty Styrofoam cup in his hand, but he didn’t drop it in the trash can because he needed something to remind him that he needed more coffee. He was beat tired and the lines beneath his eyes were so pronounced they almost hurt. His mouth tasted sour from all the coffee and cigarettes. He’d eaten nothing but candy bars in the last twenty hours and his stomach was finally protesting. But he was a happy man. He had won the last round with Powers and in this kind of battle the last round was the only one that mattered.
“So,” Billets said, “he told you everything?”
“His version of it,” Bosch said. “He lays everything on her and that’s to be expected. Remember, he thinks she’s in the other room laying everything on him. So he’s making her out to be the big bad black widow, like he never had an impure thought in his life until he ran across her.”
He brought the cup up to his mouth but then realized it was empty.
“But once we get her in here and she knows he’s talking, we’ll probably get her version,” he said.
“When did Jerry and Kiz leave?”
Bosch looked at his watch.
“About forty minutes ago. They should be back with her any time.”
“Why didn’t you go up to get her?”
“I don’t know. I figured I took Powers, they should have her. Spread it around, you know?”
“Better be careful. You keep acting like that and you’ll lose your rep as a hardass.”
Bosch smiled and looked down into his cup.
“So what’s the gist of his story?” Billets asked.
“The gist is pretty much how we figured it. He went up there to take a burglary report that day and it went from there. He says she put the moves on him and next thing you know they had a thing going. He started taking more and more patrol swings through the neighborhood and she was stopping by his bungalow in the mornings after Tony went to work or while he was in Vegas. The way he describes it, she was reeling him in. The sex was good and exotic. He was hooked up pretty good.”
“Then she asked him to tail Tony.”
“Right. That first trip Powers took to Vegas was a straight job. She asked him to tail Tony. He did and he came back with a bunch of photos of Tony and the girl and a lot of questions about who Tony was meeting with over there and why. He wasn’t stupid. He could tell Tony was into something. He says Veronica filled him in, knew every detail, knew all the OC guys by name. She also told him how much money was involved. That was when the plan came together. She told Powers that Tony had to go, that it would be just them afterward, them and a lot of money. She told him Tony had been skimming. Skimming off the skim. For years. There was at least a couple million in the pot plus whatever they took off Tony when they put him down.”
Bosch stood up and continued the story while pacing in front of her desk. He was too tired to sit for very long without being overcome with fatigue.
“Anyway, that was what the second trip was for. Powers went over and watched Tony one more time. It was research. He also tailed the guy Tony made the pickups from. Luke Goshen, who he obviously had no idea was an agent. They decided Goshen would be the patsy and worked out the plan to make it look like a mob hit. Trunk music.”
“It’s pretty complicated.”
“Yeah, that it is. He says the planning was all hers, and I kind of think he might be telling the truth there. You ask me, Powers is smart but not that smart. This whole thing was Veronica’s plan and he became a willing player. Only she had a back door built into it that Powers didn’t know about.”
“He was the back door.”
“Yeah. She set him up to take the fall, but only if we got too close. He said he’d given her a key to his place. It’s a bungalow over on Sierra Bonita. She must’ve gone over there sometime this week, shoved the photos under the mattress and stuck the box of money in the attic. Smart woman. Nice setup. When Jerry and Kiz get her in here, I know just what she’ll say. She’s going to say it was all him, that he became infatuated with her, that they had an affair and that she broke it off. He went ahead and knocked off her husband. When she realized what had happened, she couldn’t say anything. He forced her to go along with it. She had no choice. He was a cop and he told her he could pin it all on her if she didn’t go along.”
“It’s a good story. In fact, it still might work with a jury. She could walk on this.”
“Maybe. We still have some things to do.”
“What about the skim?”
“Good question. Nothing like the kind of money he’s talking about showed up on Aliso’s bank accounts. Powers said she said it was in a safe deposit box but she never told him where. It’s got to be somewhere. We’ll find it.”
“If it exists.”
“I think it does. She planted a half million in Powers’s place to put him in the frame. That’s a lot of money to spend on setting him up, unless you happen to have a couple million more stashed someplace. That’s what we —”
Bosch looked through the glass into the squad room. Edgar and Rider were walking toward the lieutenant’s office. Veronica Aliso was not with them. They came into the office with urgent looks on their faces and Bosch knew what they were going to say.
“She’s gone,” Edgar said.
Bosch and Billets just stared at them.
“Looks like she split last night,” Edgar said. “Her cars are still there but there was nobody at the house. We slipped in a back door and it’s empty, man.”
“She take her clothes, jewelry?” Bosch asked.
“Doesn’t look like it. She’s just gone.”
“You check the gate?”
“Yeah, we checked at the gate. She had two visitors yesterday. First was a courier at four-fifteen. Legal Eagle Messenger Service. Guy was there about five minutes, in and out. Then a visitor last night. Late. Guy gave the name John Galvin. She had already called the gate and given the same name and told them to let him through when he showed up. They took his plate down and we ran it. It’s Hertz out of Vegas. We’ll put a call in. Anyway, Galvin stayed until one this morning. Just about the time we were in the woods hooking up Powers, he split. She probably went with him.”
“We called the guard on duty at the time,” Rider said. “He couldn’t remember if Galvin left alone or not. He doesn’t specifically remember seeing Mrs. Aliso last night, but she could have been down in the backseat.”
“Do we know who her attorney is?” Billets asked.
“Yes,” Rider said, “Neil Denton, Century City.”
“Okay, Jerry, you work the trace on the Hertz rental and, Kiz, you try to run down Denton and see if you can find out what was so important that he had to messenger it over to her on Saturday.”
“All right,” Edgar said. “But I got a bad feeling. I think she’s in the wind.”
“Well, then we have to go into the wind to find her,” Billets said. “Go to it.”
Edgar and Rider went back out to the homicide table and Bosch stood silent for a few moments, thinking about this latest development.
“Should we have put people on her?” Billets asked.
“Well, looking back, it seems that way. But we were off the books. We didn’t have the people. Besides, we didn’t really have anything on her until a couple hours ago.”
Billets nodded, a pained expression on her face.
“If they don’t get a line on her in the next fifteen minutes, put it out on the air.”
“Right.”
“Listen, getting back to Powers, you think he’s holding anything back?”
“Hard to say. Probably. There’s still the question about why this time.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Aliso had been going ove
r to Vegas for years and bringing back suitcases full of money. He’d been skimming for years, according to Powers, and also had been having his share of the women over there. Veronica knew all of this. She had to. So what was it that made her do it now, rather than last year or next year?”
“Maybe she just got fed up. Maybe this was just the right time. Powers came along and it clicked.”
“Maybe. I asked Powers and he said he didn’t know. But I think maybe he was holding back. I’m going to take another run at him.”
Billets didn’t respond.
“There’s still some sort of secret we don’t know about,” Bosch continued. “There’s something there. I’m hoping she’ll tell it. If we find her.”
Billets dismissed it with a wave of her hand.
“You have Powers on tape?” she asked.
“Audio and video. Kiz was watching in room four. As soon as he said he wanted to talk she started it all rolling.”
“Did you advise him again? On the tape?”
“Yeah, it’s all on there. He’s sealed up pretty good. You want to watch it, I’ll get the tape.”
“No. I don’t even want to look at him if I can help it. You didn’t promise him anything, did you?”
Bosch was about to answer but stopped. There was the sound of muffled yelling that he could tell was coming from Powers, still sequestered in room three. He looked through the glass of the lieutenant’s office and saw Edgar get up from the homicide table and go down the hall to check it out.
“He probably wants his lawyer now,” Bosch said. “Well, it’s a little late for that. . . . Anyway, no, I made no promises. I did tell him I’d talk to the DA about dropping special circs, but that’s going to be tough. With what he told me in there, we can take our pick. Conspiracy to commit, lying in wait, murder for hire maybe.”
“I guess I should get a DA in here.”
“Yeah. If you don’t have anyone in mind or anybody you owe a hot case to, put in a request for Roger Goff. This is his kind of case and I’ve owed him one for a while. He won’t blow it.”
“I know Roger. I’ll ask for him. . . . I have to call out the brass, too. It’s not every day you get to call a deputy chief and tell him not only have your people been running an investigation they were specifically told to stay away from, but that they’ve arrested a cop to boot. And for murder, no less.”
Bosch smiled. He would not relish having to make such a call.
“It’s really going to hit the fan this time,” he said. “One more black eye for the department. By the way, they didn’t seize any of it because it’s not related to this case, but Jerry and Kiz found some scary stuff in Powers’s place. Nazi paraphernalia, white-power stuff. You might alert the brass about that, so they can do with it what they want.”
“Thanks for telling me. I’ll talk to Irving. I’m sure he won’t want that to see the light of day.”
Edgar leaned in through the open door.
“Powers says he’s got to take a leak and can’t hold it any longer.”
He was looking at Billets.
“Well, take him,” she said.
“Keep him hooked,” Bosch added.
“How’s he gonna piss, his hands behind his back? Don’t be expecting me to be taking it out for him. No way.”
Billets laughed.
“Just move the cuffs to the front,” Bosch said. “Give me a second to finish in here and I’ll be right there.”
“Okay, I’ll be in three.”
Edgar left and Bosch watched him through the glass as he walked to the hallway leading to the interview rooms. Bosch looked back at Billets, who was still smiling at Edgar’s comical protest. Bosch put a serious look on his face.
“You know, you can use me when you make that call.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if you want to say you didn’t know about any of this until I called you this morning with the bad news, that’s cool with me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. We cleared a murder and got a killer cop off the street. If they can’t see that the good in this outweighs the bad, then . . . well, fuck ’em if they can’t take a joke.”
Bosch smiled and nodded.
“You’re cool, Lieutenant.”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
“And it’s Grace.”
“Right. Grace.”
Bosch was thinking about how much he liked Billets as he walked down the short hallway to the interview rooms and into the open door of room three. Edgar was just closing the cuffs on Powers’s wrists. His hands were in front of him now.
“Do me a favor, Bosch,” Powers said. “Let me use the can in the front hallway.”
“What for?”
“So nobody’ll see me in the back. I don’t want anybody to see me like this. Besides, you might have a problem if people don’t like what they see.”
Bosch nodded. Powers had a point. If they took him to the locker room, then all the cops in the watch office would likely see them and there would be questions, maybe even anger from some of the cops who didn’t know what was going on. The bathroom in the front hallway was a public rest room, but this early on a Sunday morning it would likely be empty and they could take Powers in and out of there without being seen.
“Okay, let’s go,” Bosch said. “To the front.”
They walked him past the front counter and down the hallway past the administration offices, which were empty and closed for the day. While Bosch stayed with Powers in the hall, Edgar checked the rest room out.
“It’s empty,” he said, holding the door open from inside.
Bosch followed Powers in and the big cop went to the furthest of three urinals. Bosch stayed by the door and Edgar took a position on the other side of Powers by the row of sinks. When Powers was finished at the urinal, he stepped toward one of the sinks. As he walked, Bosch saw that his right shoelace was untied and so did Edgar.
“Tie your shoe, Powers,” Edgar said. “You trip and fall and break your pretty face, I don’t want any cryin’ ’bout po-lice brutality.”
Powers stopped and looked down at the shoelace on the floor and then at Edgar.
“Sure,” he said.
Powers first washed his hands, used a paper towel to dry them and then brought his right foot up on the edge of the sink to tie his shoe.
“New shoes,” Edgar said. “Laces on ’em always come undone, don’t they?”
Bosch couldn’t see Powers’s face because the cop’s back was turned toward the door. But he was looking up at Edgar.
“Fuck you, nigger.”
It was almost as if he had slapped Edgar, whose face immediately filled with revulsion and anger. He looked over at Bosch, a quick glance to judge whether Bosch was going to do anything about his plan to hit Powers. But it was all the time Powers needed. He sprang away from the sink and threw his body into Edgar, pinning him against the white-tiled wall. His cuffed hands came up and the left one grabbed a handful of the front of Edgar’s shirt while the right pressed the barrel of a small gun into the stunned detective’s throat.
Bosch had covered half of the distance to them when he saw the gun and Powers began to shout.
“Back off, Bosch. Back off or you got a dead partner. You want that?”
Powers had turned his head so that he was looking back at Bosch. Bosch stopped and raised his hands away from his body.
“That’s it,” Powers said. “Now this is what you’re going to do. Take your gun out real slowly and drop it in that first sink there.”
Bosch made no move.
“Do it. Now.”
Powers spoke with measured force, careful to keep his voice low.
Bosch looked at the tiny gun in Powers’s hand. He recognized it as a Raven .25, a favored throw-down gun among patrol cops going back to at least his own time in a uniform. It was small—it looked like a toy in Powers’s hand—but deadly and it fit snugly into a sock or boot, virtually unseen with the pants leg pulled
down. As Bosch came to the realization that Edgar and Rider had not completely searched Powers, he also knew that a shot from the Raven at point-blank range would certainly kill Edgar. It was against all his instincts to give up his weapon, but he saw no alternative. Powers was desperate and Bosch knew desperate men didn’t think things out. They went against the odds. They were killers. With two fingers he slowly removed his gun and dropped it into the sink.
“That’s real good, Bosch. Now I want you to get on the floor underneath the sinks.”
Bosch did as he was told, never taking his eyes off Powers as he moved.
“Edgar,” Powers said. “Now your turn. You can just go ahead and drop yours on the floor.”
Edgar’s gun hit the tile.
“Now, you get under there with your partner. That’s it.”
“Powers, this is crazy,” Bosch said. “Where’re you going to go? You can’t run.”
“Who’s talking about running, Bosch? Take out your cuffs and put one on your left wrist.”
After Bosch had complied, Powers told him to loop the cuffs through one of the sink trap pipes. He then told Edgar to put the free cuff around his right wrist. He did so and then Powers smiled.
“There, that’s good. That ought to hold you guys for a few minutes. Now, give me your keys. Both of you, throw ’em out here.”
Powers picked Edgar’s set up off the floor and unlocked the cuffs around his wrists. He quickly massaged them to get the circulation going. He was smiling but Bosch wondered if he even knew it.
“Now, let’s see.”
He reached into the sink and grabbed Bosch’s gun.
“This is a nice one, Bosch. Nice weight, balance. Beats mine. Mind if I borrow it for a couple minutes?”
Bosch knew then what he was planning to do. He was going for Veronica. Bosch thought of Kiz sitting at the homicide table, her back to the front counter. And Billets in her office. They wouldn’t see him until it was too late.
“She’s not here, Powers,” he said.
“What? Who?”
“Veronica. It was a scam. We never even picked her up.”
Powers was silent as the smile dropped away and was replaced with a serious look of concentration. Bosch knew what he was thinking.
Harry Bosch Novels, The: Volume 2 Page 74
