Майкл Коннелли - Two Kinds of Truth

“So then how do we get him?” Lourdes ask.

The tone of her voice revealed her dislike of the idea of the big-shot fed dropping in to school them on their own case.

“You need somebody inside,” Hovan said.

“That’s your idea?” Lourdes asked.

“That’s it,” he said. “You have an opportunity here. A way in.”

“Me,” Sisto said. “I’ll go undercover.”

Everyone turned to look at Sisto. His eagerness to assume a key role in the case was outweighing his inexperience and the danger of undercover work.

“No, not you,” Hovan said.

He pointed across the table at Bosch.

“Him,” he said.

“What are you talking about?” Lourdes asked.

“How old are you, Detective Bosch?” Hovan asked. “Over sixty-five, I’m guessing?”

“Yes,” Bosch said.

Hovan gestured as if presenting Bosch to the others at the table.

“We take Detective Bosch, make him look a little older, a little more worn, and a little more hungry. We give him a new ID and Medicare card. We change his clothes, take away his razor and soap for a few days. What we do is follow the clinic’s van and arrest a few of the shills at a pharmacy, make it look like a random enforcement operation. Jerry and I take care of that. Then, when the capper gets back to the clinic and is a few bodies short and looking at being a few thousand pills short by the end of the month, in walks the perfect recruit.”

Hovan used his hands again to offer Bosch to the group.

“The ‘perfect recruit’?” Luzon said.

“He’s the right age and just what they’ll be looking for,” Hovan said. “You ever work undercover, Detective?”

All eyes went to Bosch.

“Not really,” he said. “A few times here and there on cases. Nothing serious. Just how close would I be able to get to Santos if I’m being run around the state to pharmacies all day?”

“Put it this way: closer than anybody else in law enforcement,” Hovan said. “Santos is a phantom. He’s the Howard Hughes of hillbilly heroin. Nobody’s seen him in nearly a year. Our intel photos of him are even older. But here’s the thing.”

Hovan opened a thin manila file that had been on the table in front of him. It contained a two-page document stapled together. He held it up for all to see.

“This is a John Doe arrest warrant for Santos. It’s a RICO case and it’s solid, and this warrant was issued more than a year ago. We have not executed it because we can’t identify or find the guy. But you might be able to. You get recruited and you might get close enough to signal us in. We’ll set you up with all you need. You see Santos, you call us in and we take him down. You take down the man who ordered the hit on that pharmacy. Maybe we even get the shooters.”

Hovan had spun the plan with an urgent tone in his voice. It was met with a long silence as it was considered. Bosch held his hand out for the file containing the warrant, and Hovan passed it over. Harry took a quick glance at it to make sure it hadn’t been a prop. It looked legit. John Doe AKA “Santos” charged under the federal Racketeering Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act. It was the catchall law used by the feds to go after mobsters for almost fifty years.

It was Lourdes who broke the silence.

“We heard your last inside man took a plane ride and never came back,” she said.

“Yeah, but he wasn’t a cop,” Hovan said. “He was an amateur and made an amateur mistake. That wouldn’t happen with Bosch. He’d be prepped and pretty — that’s what we call being totally ready to go under. I mean, this is a perfect opportunity here.”

Hovan looked directly at Bosch to make his final pitch.

“I gotta admit, when I checked you out with Jerry and heard you were an old guy, my mind started working overtime. We don’t get guys your age doing UC work. I mean, none. You’re the perfect way in.”

Bosch was beginning to bristle.

“Yeah, enough with the ‘old guy’ stuff,” he said. “I get your point.”

Chief Valdez cleared his throat and stepped into the conversation before anybody else could respond.

“If Harry gets on a plane, he could end up anywhere,” he said. “I don’t like that.”

“Most likely he’d be taken down to Slab City,” Hovan said.

“And what exactly is Slab City?”

“A retired military base down near the bottom of the Salton Sea. When they closed the base, they pulled everything out of there except the hard surfaces. That’s the landing strips and the slabs they built the Quonsets on. Squatters came in and took over, built their own places. Then the Santos operation came in, uses the airstrips, and built a tent city for his operation.”

“Why don’t you just go in and shut it all down?” Lourdes asked.

“Because we want Santos,” Hovan said. “We don’t care about the addicts he runs as shills. They’re a dime a dozen. We want the head of the snake, and that’s why we need somebody inside to send out the signal when he’s there.”

“Okay, we need to think about this,” Valdez said. “Detective Bosch also needs to decide if this is something he would even be willing to do. He is a reserve officer in the department and I’m not going to order him to do anything with a risk factor like you’re talking about here. So give us a day or two and we’ll get back to you with an answer.”

Hovan raised his palms in a hands-off manner.

“Hey, roger that,” Hovan said. “I just wanted to come up here and make my pitch. I’ll let you people get back to work. You call me with your decision.”

He stood up to leave but Bosch stopped him with three words.

“I’ll do it,” he said.

Hovan looked at him, and a smile started to spread on his face.

“Harry, wait a minute,” Valdez said. “I think we should take our time and consider other options.”

“Harry, are you sure?” Lourdes added. “This is a dangerous—”

“Give me a couple days to get ready,” Bosch said. “I’ll give it a shot.”

“Okay, okay,” Hovan said. “Don’t shave and don’t bathe. Body odor is a tell. If you don’t stink, you ain’t a user.”

“Good to know,” Bosch said.

“I can hook you up with a user if you want to research it,” the agent offered.

“No,” Bosch said. “I think I know somebody I can talk to. When do we do this?”

Bosch looked at the faces surrounding the table. The looks of concern far outweighed the look of excitement on Hovan’s face.

“How about we go Friday?” Hovan said. “That’ll give us time to work out logistics and request a shadow team. Maybe get you some time with our UC trainers.”

“I’ll want full coverage on him,” Valdez said. “I don’t have the people to do it but I don’t want Harry out there with his ass in the breeze.”

“He won’t be,” Hovan said. “We’ll have him covered.”

“What about when he’s on that plane?” Lourdes asked.

“We’ll have air support,” Hovan said. “We won’t lose him. We’ll be so high above that plane, they won’t even know we’re there.”

“And when he lands?” Edgar asked.

“I’m not going to candy-coat it. When he gets to Slab City, he’s on his own. But we’ll be nearby and ready for the signal.”

That ended the questions from Lourdes. Hovan looked at the chief.

“You have a photo of Bosch we can use to make a dummy DL?”

Valdez nodded.

“We have the shot we made his police ID with,” he said. “Captain Trevino can take you into the op center to get that.”

Trevino got up to lead Hovan out. The DEA agent said he would be in touch and would come back Friday morning ready to go with the undercover operation.

After he was gone, all eyes returned to Bosch.