Michael Connelly - The Reversal

But there was no sign of him. Bosch got up, gazed south down the beach in the direction of Venice and saw no one in the light from the Ferris wheel. He then turned and looked up toward the hotels and apartment buildings that ran along the beach. Several people were on the beach walk that fronted the buildings but he didn’t recognize any of the figures as Jessup.

Twenty-five yards up the pier was a set of stairs leading topside and directly to the pier’s parking lot. Bosch headed that way, still limping badly. He was halfway up the stairs when his phone rang. It was Jacquez.

“All right, where is he? We’re on our way.”

“That’s the thing. I lost him. I had to hide and I thought you people were on him. I’m going to the top of the pier now. What the hell happened, Jacquez?”

“We had a guy step out to drop a deuce. Said his stomach was giving him trouble. I don’t think he’ll be in the unit after tonight.”

“Jesus Christ!”

Bosch got to the top of the steps and walked out onto the empty parking lot. There was no sign of Jessup.

“Okay, I’m up on the pier. I don’t see him. He’s in the wind.”

“Okay, Bosch, we’re two minutes out. We’re going to spread. We’ll find him. He didn’t take the car or the bike, so he’s on foot.”

“He could’ve grabbed a cab at any one of the hotels over here. The bottom line is we don’t know where-”

Bosch suddenly realized something.

“I gotta go. Call me as soon as you have him, Jacquez. You got that?”

“Got it.”

Bosch ended the call and then immediately called his home on the speed dial. He checked his watch and expected Sue Bambrough to answer, since it was after eleven.

But his daughter picked up the call.

“Dad?”

“Hey, baby, why are you still up?”

“Because I had to do all that homework. I wanted a little break before I went to sleep.”

“That’s fine. Listen, can you put Mrs. Bambrough on the line?”

“Dad, I’m in my bedroom and I’m in my pajamas.”

“That’s okay. Just go to the door and tell her to pick up the phone in the kitchen. I need to talk to her. And meantime, you have to get dressed. You’re leaving the house.”

“What? Dad, I have-”

“Madeline, listen to me. This is important. I am going to tell Mrs. Bambrough to take you to her house until I can get there. I want you out of the house.”

“Why?”

“You don’t need to know that. You just need to do what I ask. Now, please, get Mrs. Bambrough on the phone.”

She didn’t respond but he heard the door of her room open. Then he heard his daughter say, “It’s for you.”

A few moments later the extension was picked up in the kitchen.

“Hello?”

“Sue, it’s Harry. I need you to do something. I need you to take Maddie to your house. Right now. I will be there in less than an hour to get her.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Sue, listen, we’ve been watching a guy tonight who knows where I live. And we lost him. Now, there is no reason to panic or to believe he is heading that way but I want to take all precautions. So I want you to take Maddie and get out of the house. Right now. Go to your place and I will see you there. Can you do this, Sue?”

“We’re leaving right now.”

He liked the strength in her voice and realized it probably came with the territory of being a teacher and assistant principal in the public school system.

“Okay, I’m on my way. Call me back as soon as you get to your place.”

But Bosch wasn’t really on his way. After the call, he put the phone away and went back down the steps to the beach. He returned to the hole he had dug under the storage area wall. He crawled back under and this time used his flashlight to find his way to the locked storage room. He used his picks again on the padlock and the whole time he worked he was distracted by thoughts of Jessup’s escape from the surveillance. Had it just been a coincidence that he had left his apartment at the same time the SIS watcher had left his post, or was he aware of the surveillance and did he break free when he saw the opportunity?

At the moment, there was no way to know.

Finally, he got the lock open, taking longer than he had the first time. He entered the storage room and moved the light to the blanket and pillow on the ground. The bag Jessup had carried was there. It said Ralphs on its side. Bosch dropped to his knees and was about to open it when his phone buzzed. It was Jacquez.

“We got him. He’s on Nielson at Ocean Park. It looks like he’s walking home.”

“Then try not to lose him this time, Jacquez. I gotta go.”

He disconnected before Jacquez could reply. He quickly called his daughter’s cell. She was in the car with Sue Bambrough. Bosch told her they could turn around and go back home. This news was not received with a thankful release of tension. His daughter was left upset and angry over the scare. Bosch couldn’t blame her but he couldn’t stay on the line.

“I’ll be home in less than an hour. We can talk about it then if you’re still awake. I’ll see you soon.”

He disconnected the call and focused on the bag. He opened it without moving it from its spot next to the blanket.

The bag contained a dozen single-serving-size cans of fruit. There were diced peaches in heavy syrup, chopped pineapple and something called fruit medley. Also in the bag was a package of plastic spoons. Bosch stared at the contents for a long moment and then his eyes moved up the wall to the crossbeams and the locked trapdoor above.

“Who are you bringing here, Jessup?” he whispered.

Wednesday, April 7, 1:05 P.M .

All eyes were on the back of the courtroom. It was time for the main event, and while I had ringside seats, I was still going to be just a spectator like everybody else. That didn’t sit very well with me but it was a choice I could live with and trust. The door opened and Harry Bosch led our main witness into the courtroom. Sarah Ann Gleason told us she didn’t own any dresses and didn’t want to buy one to testify in. She wore black jeans and a purple silk blouse. She looked pretty and she looked confident. We didn’t need a dress.

Bosch stayed on her right side and when opening the gate for her positioned his body between her and Jessup, who sat at the defense table, turned like everybody else toward his main accuser’s entrance.

Bosch let her go the rest of the way by herself. Maggie McFierce was already at the lectern and she smiled warmly at her witness as she went by. This was Maggie’s moment, too, and I read her smile as one of hope for both women.

We’d had a good morning, with testimony from Bill Clinton, the former tow truck driver, and then Bosch taking the case through to lunch. Clinton told his story about the day of the murder and Jessup borrowing his Dodgers cap just before they became part of the impromptu lineup outside the house on Windsor Boulevard. He also testified to the Aardvark drivers’ frequent use of and familiarity with the parking lot behind the El Rey Theatre, and Jessup’s claim to Windsor Boulevard on the morning of the murder. These were good, solid points for the prosecution, and Clinton gave no quarter to Royce on cross.

Then Bosch took the stand for a third time in the trial. Rather than read previous testimony, this time he testified about his own recent investigation of the case and produced the Dodgers cap-with the initials BC under the brim-from property that had been seized from Jessup during his arrest twenty-four years earlier. We were forced to dance around the fact that the hat as well as Jessup’s other belongings had been in the property room at San Quentin for the past twenty-four years. To bring that information out would be to reveal that Jessup had previously been convicted of Melissa Landy’s murder.