Michael Connelly - Angels Flight

“So I heard. It’s probably the smart play.”

He was quiet for a moment, waiting for Irving to make the next move.

“So what I want you to do is have your team finish up the interviews they are involved in now, then everybody gets a good night’s sleep, because tomorrow it all starts again.”

Bosch had to stop himself from shaking his head no.

“You mean just shelve everything until the bureau shows up? Chief, this is a homicide – a double homicide. We can’t just shut it down and start over tomorrow.”

“I am not talking about shutting anything down. I said finish up what you have going at the moment. Tomorrow we will retrench and regroup and create a new battle plan. I want your people fresh and ready to run.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

But Bosch had no intention of waiting for the bureau. His intention was to continue the investigation, drive it forward and then follow where it led. It didn’t matter what Irving said.

“Can I get a key to this room?” Bosch asked. “We should get the first batch of files from Entrenkin in a little while. We need a secure place for them.”

Irving shifted his weight and reached into his pocket. He removed a key that was unattached to a ring and slid it across the table. Bosch picked it up and started working it onto his own key ring.

“So how many people have a copy of this?” he said. “Just so I know.”

“You don’t have to worry, Detective. No one will be going into this room who is not a member of the team or does not have my permission.”

Bosch nodded even though Irving had not answered his question.

AS Bosch stepped through the glass doors of Parker Center he saw the beginning of the manufacturing and packaging of a media event. Spread out across the front plaza were a half dozen television crews and reporters ready to transmit stand-up reports as lead-in on the footage from the press conference. Out at the curb was the microwave forest – a line of TV trucks with their microwave transmitters raised high and ready. It was a Saturday, normally the slowest news day of the week. But the murder of Howard Elias was big. The guaranteed lead story and then some. A Saturday morning assignment editor’s dream come true. The local stations were going to go live at noon. And then it would begin. The news of Elias’s murder would blow through the city like the hottest Santa Ana wind, setting nerves on edge and possibly turning silent frustrations into loud and malevolent actions. The department – and the city, for that matter – was relying on how these young and beautiful people interpreted and delivered the information they had been given.

The hope was that their reports would not fan the already smoldering tensions in the community. The hope was that they would show restraint and integrity and common sense, that they would simply report the known facts without any speculation or editorial twisting of the knife. But Bosch knew those hopes had about as much chance as Elias had when he stepped onto Angels Flight little more than twelve hours before.

Bosch took an immediate left and headed to the employee parking lot, careful not to walk into view of any of the cameras. He didn’t want to be on the news unless absolutely necessary.

He successfully avoided detection and got to his car. Ten minutes later he parked illegally in front of the Bradbury, pulling in behind yet another TV truck. He looked around as he got out but didn’t see the news crew. He guessed that they had walked over to the Angels Flight terminus to tape footage for the story.

After taking the old elevator up to the top floor Bosch pulled back the gate and stepped out onto the landing only to be met by Harvey Button, his producer and a cameraman. There was an uneasy silence as he tried to move around them. Then the producer spoke.

“Uh, Detective Bosch? I’m Tom Chainey from Channel Four.”

“Good for you.”

“I was wondering if we could talk for a few moments about the – ”

“No, we can’t talk. Have a nice day.”

Bosch managed to get around them and started toward Elias’s office. Chainey spoke to his back.

“You sure? We’re picking up a lot of information and it would probably do us both a lot of good if we could get it confirmed. We don’t want to cause you any problems. It would be better if we could work as a team. You know.”

Bosch stopped and looked back at him.

“No, I don’t know,” he said. “If you want to put unconfirmed information on the air, that’s your choice. But I’m not confirming anything. And I already have a team.”

He turned without waiting for a reply and headed toward the door with Howard Elias’s name on it. He heard nothing else from Chainey or Button.

When he walked into the office he found Janis Langwiser sitting behind the secretary’s desk, looking through a file. Next to the desk there were three cardboard boxes full of files that weren’t there before. Langwiser looked up.

“Detective Bosch.”

“Hey. These boxes for me?”

She nodded.

“The first batch. And, hey, that wasn’t very nice what you did before.”

“What?”

“Telling me my car was being towed. That was a lie, wasn’t it?”

Bosch had completely forgotten.

“Uh, no, not really,” he said. “You were in a tow-away zone. They would’ve gotten you.”

He smiled when he knew she knew it was a bullshit cover-up. His face started turning red.

“Look, I had to talk to Inspector Entrenkin alone. I’m sorry.”

Before she could say anything, Carla Entrenkin looked in from the room next door. She, too, was holding a file in her hand. Bosch pointed to the three boxes on the floor.

“Looks like you’re making some progress.”

“I hope so. Can I talk to you for a moment in here?”

“Sure. But first, did Channel Four come in here and try to talk to you two?”

“They did,” Langwiser said. “And Channel Nine was here before them.”

“Did you talk to them?”

Langwiser’s eyes darted momentarily toward Entrenkin and then down at the floor. She said nothing.

“I gave a brief statement,” Entrenkin said. “Something innocuous, just explaining my role. Can we talk in here?”

She stepped back from the doorway and Bosch entered the file room. There was another cardboard box on the desk that was half full of files. Entrenkin closed the door after Bosch entered. She then threw the file she was holding on the clerk’s desk, folded her arms and put a stern expression on her face.

“What is it?” Bosch asked.

“Tom Chainey just told me that it was announced at the press conference that How – uh, Mr. Elias had left his wallet and watch in his office, in his desk. And I thought that when you people were asked to leave this morning it was clear that – ”

“I’m sorry. I forgot.”

Bosch put his briefcase down on the desk and opened it. He lifted out the evidence bags containing the wallet and watch.

“I had already bagged them and put them in my case before you came in this morning. I forgot about it and left with them. You want me to put it all back where I found it?”

“No. I just wanted an explanation. And I’m not sure I believe the one you just offered.”

There was a long silence while they stared at each other.

“Was that all you wanted to talk to me about?” Bosch finally asked.

She turned back to the desk and the file she had been looking through.

“I thought our relationship would be better than this.”

“Look,” Bosch said as he closed the briefcase. “You’ve got your secrets. You’ve got to give me mine. The bottom line is Howard Elias wasn’t robbed. So we move on from there. Okay?”