Michael Connelly - 9 Dragons

Bosch almost responded by saying he didn’t want to bring another boss into the mix with the possibility that there was a leak in the pipe somewhere.

“Let’s wait and see what Gandle says first,” he said diplomatically instead.

“You got it.”

Bosch hung up and worked his way through traffic in an effort to catch up. When he was on the overpass that took him from the 10 to the 405, he was able to pick out both Chu’s and Chang’s vehicles half a mile ahead. They were caught in the slowdown where lanes merged.

Switching off lead two more times, Bosch and Chu followed Chang to the LAX exit at Century Boulevard. It was now clear that Chang was leaving the city and they were going to have to stop him. He called Gandle back and was put on hold.

Finally, after a long two minutes Gandle picked up.

“Harry, whadaya got?”

“He’s on Century Boulevard four blocks from LAX.”

“I haven’t been able to talk to anybody yet.”

“I say we take him down. We book him for murder and worst-case scenario is on Monday we file on him for extortion. He’ll get bail but the judge will slap no travel on it, especially after him trying to leave today.”

“Your call, Harry, and I’ll back you.”

Meaning it would still be Bosch who had made the wrong call if by Monday everything fell apart and Chang waltzed out of jail a free man able to leave L.A. and never come back.

“Thanks, Lieutenant. I’ll let you know.”

Moments after Bosch closed his phone Chang turned right into a long-term parking lot that provided a shuttle service to all airport terminals. As expected, Chu called.

“This is it. What do we do?”

“We take him. We wait till he parks and he has that suitcase out of the trunk. We take him down then and we’ll get a look in the suitcase with a warrant.”

“Where?”

“I use this lot when I go to Hong Kong. There are endless rows and shuttle stations where they come pick you up. Let’s get in there and park. We act like we’re travelers and we get him at the shuttle station.”

“Roger that.”

They hung up. Bosch was in the lead at the moment, so he entered the lot directly behind Chang, taking a ticket out of an automatic feeder. The arm rose and he pulled through. He followed Chang down the main parkway and when Chang turned right into a tributary road Bosch kept going, thinking Chu would follow and take the right.

Bosch parked in the first space he saw, then jumped out and doubled back on foot to where Chang and Chu had turned. He saw Chang one lane over, standing behind the Mustang and struggling to pull his big suitcase out of the trunk. Chu was eight cars past him and parked.

Apparently realizing he would look suspicious without luggage in a long-term lot, Chu started walking toward a nearby shuttle stop, carrying a briefcase and a raincoat like a man on a business trip.

Bosch had no props to disguise himself with, so he moved down the center of the parking rows, using the vehicles as cover.

Chang locked his car and lugged the heavy suitcase to the shuttle stop. It was an old piece of luggage without the wheels that are almost standard on all sizes these days. When he got to the shuttle stop, Chu was already standing there. Bosch cut behind a minivan and came out two cars away. This would give Chang little time to recognize that the approaching man should have luggage in the long-term lot.

“Bo-Jing Chang,” Bosch said loudly as he got close.

The suspect jerked his body around to look at Bosch. Up close, Chang looked strong and wide, formidable. Bosch saw his muscles tense.

“You’re under arrest. Please place your hands behind your back.”

Chang’s fight-or-flight response never had a chance to kick in. Chu stepped behind him and expertly clipped one cuff to his right wrist while grabbing hold of the left wrist. Chang struggled for a moment, more in response to the surprise than anything else, but Chu cuffed the other wrist and the arrest was complete.

“What is this?” Chang protested. “What I do?”

He had a strong accent.

“We’re going to talk about all of that, Mr. Chang. Just as soon as we get you back to the Police Administration Building.”

“I have flight.”

“Not today.”

Bosch showed him his badge and ID, and then introduced Chu, making sure to mention that Chu was from the Asian Gang Unit. Bosch wanted to get that percolating in Chang’s head.

“Arrest for what?” the suspect asked.

“The murder of John Li.”

Bosch saw no surprise in Chang’s reaction. He saw him physically go into shut-down mode.

“I want lawyer,” he said.

“Hold on there, Mr. Chang,” Bosch said. “Let us tell you about your rights first?.”

Bosch nodded to Chu, who produced a card from his pocket. He read Chang his rights and asked if he understood them. Chang’s only response was to ask for a lawyer again. He knew the drill.

Bosch’s next move was to call for a patrol unit to transfer Chang downtown, and a tow truck to take his car to the downtown police garage. Bosch was in no hurry at this point; the longer it took to transport Chang downtown, the closer they were to 2 P.M., the cutoff time in felony arraignment court. If they delayed Chang from getting into court, he could be secured as a guest of the city jail through the weekend.

After about five minutes of standing in silence while Chang sat on a bench in the shuttle stop’s shelter, Bosch turned and gestured to the suitcase and spoke to him conversationally, as if the questions and answers didn’t matter.

“That thing looks like it weighs a ton,” he said. “Where were you going?”

Chang said nothing. There was no such thing as small talk when you were under arrest. He stared straight forward and did not acknowledge Bosch’s question in any way. Chu translated the question and got the same non-response.

Bosch shrugged his shoulders like it didn’t matter much to him whether Chang answered or not.

“Harry,” Chu said.

Bosch felt his phone vibrate twice, the signal that he had received a message. He signaled him a few yards away from the shelter so they could talk without Chang hearing.

“What do you think?” Chu asked.

“Well, it’s clear he isn’t going to talk to us and has asked for a lawyer. So that’s that.”

“So what do we do?”

“First of all, we slow things down. We take our time getting him downtown and then we take our time booking him. He doesn’t call his lawyer till he’s been processed and with any luck that won’t be till after two. Meantime, we get warrants. His car, suitcase and his cell phone, if he has it on him. After that, we hit his apartment and his place of work. Wherever the judge lets us go. And we hope like hell we come up with something like the gun by noon Monday. Because if we don’t, he’s probably going to walk.”

“What about the extortion?”

“It gives us PC but it won’t go anywhere if Robert Li doesn’t step up.”

Chu nodded.

“ High Noon, Harry. That was a movie. A western.”

“I never saw it,” he said to Chu.

Bosch looked down the long row of parked cars and saw a patrol car make the turn toward them. He waved.

He pulled his phone to check the message. The screen said he had received a video from his daughter.

He would have to check it later. It was very late in Hong Kong and he knew his daughter should be in bed. She was probably unable to sleep and expecting him to respond. But he had work to do. He put the phone away as the patrol car stopped in front of them.

“I’m going to ride in with him,” he said to Chu. “In case he decides to say something.”

“What about your car?”

“I’ll get it later.”