Michael Connelly: The Drop

Bosch put the box back in its place and closed the closet doors. He went back into the hallway. The bathroom was just as dirty as the bathroom in 6B but the tub ring was brownish-red and Bosch knew that this was where Hardy washed the blood off. He backed out of the room and checked the hallway closet. It was empty except for a black plastic case that stood about four and a half feet high and was roughly the shape of a bowling pin. There was a handle on the top of it. Bosch grabbed it and tipped it forward. There were two wheels on the bottom and he rolled it out into the hallway. The case felt empty and Bosch wondered if it had contained a musical instrument.

But then he saw a manufacturer’s plate on the side of the container. It said Golf+Go Systems and Bosch realized it was a case for transporting golf clubs on planes. He laid it down on the carpet and opened it, noting that the two latches could be locked with a key. It was empty but Bosch saw that there were three rough-edged holes the size of dimes cut into the top facing of the container.

Bosch closed it, righted it and put it back in the closet to be found later during the official search. He shut the door and headed back downstairs.

When he was halfway down the stairs, Bosch suddenly stopped and gripped the banister. He knew the dime-sized holes in the golf clubs carrier were to allow air into the case. And he knew a child or small person could fit inside. The inhumanity and depravity suddenly seized him. He could smell the blood. He could hear the muffled pleas. He knew the misery of this place.

He put his shoulder against the wall for a moment and then slid down to a seated position on the steps. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He was hyperventilating and tried to slow down his breathing cycle. He ran a hand back through his hair and then held the hand across his mouth.

He closed his eyes and remembered another time when he was in a place of death, huddled in a tunnel and far from home. He was really just a boy then and he was scared and trying to control his breathing. That was the key. Control your breathing and you control the fear.

He sat there for no more than two minutes but it seemed like an entire night went by. Finally his breathing returned to normal and the memory of the tunnels faded.

His phone buzzed and it brought him out of the dark moment. He pulled it and looked at the screen. It was Chu.

“Yeah?”

“Harry, you okay over there? You’re taking a long time.”

“I’m cool. I’ll be over in a minute.”

“Are we good?”

Meaning did Bosch find what they needed in 6A.

“Yeah, we’re good.”

He disconnected and then called Tim Marcia’s direct number. He obliquely explained to the squad whip what was going on.

“We’re going to need people down here,” Bosch said. “I think there’s going to be a lot of work to do. We are also going to need media relations and a liaison with the locals. We should set up a command post because we’re going to be here all week.”

“Okay, I’m on it,” Marcia said. “I’ll talk to the lieutenant and we’ll start mobilizing. It sounds like we’re going to need to send everybody.”

“That would be good.”

“Are you all right, Harry? You sound weird.”

“I’m all right.”

Bosch gave him the address and hung up. He sat still for another two minutes and then made the next call, to Kizmin Rider’s cell.

“Harry, I know why you’re calling and all I can tell you is that it was thought out very carefully. A decision was made that was best for the department and we’re never going to talk about it. It’s best that way for you, too.”

She was talking about the Times story on Irving and the taxi franchise. The case seemed so distant to Bosch now. And so meaningless.

“That’s not why I’m calling.”

“Oh. Then, what’s up? You don’t sound right.”

“I’m fine. We just took down a big one that I’m sure the chief’s going to want to get in on. You remember the Mandy Phillips case up in the West Valley about nine, ten years ago?”

“No, refresh me.”

“Thirteen years old, she got grabbed at a mall out there. Never found, nobody ever arrested.”

“You got the guy?”

“Yeah, and get this. When he got a driver’s license three years ago? He gave the girl’s address as his own.”

Rider was silent as she registered Hardy’s audacity.

“I’m glad you got him,” she finally said.

“She’s not the only one. We’re down in Orange County putting it together. But it’s going to get big. The guy claims his number is thirty-seven.”

“Oh, my god!”

“He’s got a closet full of cameras and photos and tapes. There are VHS tapes, Kiz. This guy’s been at this a very long time.”

Bosch knew he was taking a risk in revealing to Rider what he had found while jumping the warrant. They had been partners once but the bulletproof bond they shared then was now rusting through. Still, he risked it. Politics and high jingo aside, if he couldn’t trust her, then he could trust no one.

“You told Lieutenant Duvall all of this?”

“I told the whip. Not everything, but enough. I think they’re coming down with everybody.”

“Okay, I’ll check in and monitor things. I don’t know if the chief will go down there. But he’ll want to get involved. They may want to use the theater here for something like this.”

The PAB complex had a ground-level theater that was used for award programs, special events and major press conferences. This would be one of those.

“Okay, but that wasn’t the main reason I called.”

“Well, what was the main reason?”

“Did you do anything yet about moving my partner out of the unit?”

“Uh, no. I’ve been a little busy this morning.”

“Good. Then don’t. Never mind that.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then.”

“And that other thing you mentioned. About me getting the whole five years on the DROP. Is that something you still think you can do?”

“I was pretty sure I could get it done when I made the offer. After this case, I think it’s a cinch. They’re going to want to keep you around, Harry. You’re about to get famous.”

“I don’t want to be famous. I just want to work cases.”

“I understand that. I’ll go for the full five.”

“Thanks, Kiz. And I guess I should get back to it now. A lot going on here.”

“Good luck, Harry. Keep it between the lines.”

Meaning don’t break the rules. The case is too big, too important.

“Got it.”

“And Harry?”

“Yeah.”

“This is why we do this. Because of people like this guy. Monsters like him, they don’t stop until we stop them. It’s noble work. Remember that. Just think how many people you just saved.”

Bosch nodded and thought about the golf clubs carrier. He knew it was going to be something that stayed with him forever. Hardy had been right when he warned that going into 6A would change Bosch.

“Not enough,” he said.

He disconnected and thought about things. Two days ago he didn’t think he could leg out the last thirty-nine months of his career. Now he wanted the full five years. Whatever his failings were on the Irving case, he now understood that the mission didn’t end. There was always the mission and always work to be done. His kind of work.

This is why we do this .

Bosch nodded. Kiz got that right.

He used the banister to pull himself up to a standing position and then started down the stairs again. He needed to get out of the town house and into the sunlight.

By noon a search warrant had been signed by superior court judge George Companioni and the horrors contained inside town house 6A were officially and legally confirmed by Bosch, Chu and other members of the Open-Unsolved Unit. Chilton Hardy was then moved to one of the squad’s cars and transported to the Metropolitan Detention Center for booking by detectives Baker and Kehoe. Bosch and Chu, as the lead investigators, remained behind to work the crime scene.