Michael Connelly - Trunk Music

“Felton, it’s Bosch in L.A.”

“Bosch, what’s up?”

“Thought you might want to know. The gun checks out. It fired the bullets that killed Tony Aliso.”

Felton whistled into the phone.

“Damn, that’s nice and neat. Lucky ain’t going to feel so lucky when he hears about that.”

“Well, I’m coming out in a little while to tell him.”

“Good. When you going to be here?”

“Haven’t set it up yet. What about the extradition hearing? We still on for tomorrow morning?”

“Absolutely, as far as I know. I’ll have somebody double-check to make sure. His lawyer might be trying to make waves but that won’t work. This added piece of evidence will help, too.”

Bosch told him that Gregson would be coming out in the morning to aid the local prosecutor if needed.

“That’s probably a wasted trip but he’s welcome just the same.”

“I’ll tell him. Listen, if you’ve got a spare body, there’s still one loose end bugging me.”

“What?”

“Tony’s girlfriend. She was a dancer at Dolly’s till she got fired by Lucky on Saturday. I still want to talk to her. She goes by the name Layla. That’s all I have. That and her phone number.”

He gave Felton the number and the captain said he’d have somebody check into it.

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, one other thing. You know Deputy Chief Fitzgerald out here, don’t you?”

“Sure do. We’ve worked cases together.”

“You talked to him lately?”

“Uh, no…no. Not in-it’s been a while.”

Bosch thought he was lying but decided to let it go. He needed the man’s cooperation for at least another twenty-four hours.

“Why do you ask, Bosch?”

“No reason. Just thought I’d ask. He’s been advising us from this end, that’s all.”

“Good to hear that. He’s a very capable individual.”

“Capable. Yeah, that he is.”

Bosch hung up and then immediately set about making travel arrangements for himself and Edgar. He booked two rooms at the Mirage. They were above the department’s maximum allowance for hotel rooms but he was sure Billets would approve the vouchers. Besides, Layla had called him once at the Mirage. She might try again.

Last, he reserved round-trip tickets for himself and Edgar out of Burbank. On the Thursday afternoon return he reserved one more seat for Goshen.

Their flight out left at three-thirty and got them into Las Vegas an hour later. He figured that would give them plenty of time to do what they had to do.

Nash was in the gatehouse and came out to greet Bosch with a smile. Harry introduced Edgar.

“Looks like you guys’ve got yourself a real whodunit, eh?”

“Looks that way,” Bosch said. “You got any theories?”

“Not a one. I gave your girl the gate log, she tell you that?”

“She’s not my girl, Nash. She’s a detective. Pretty good one, too.”

“I know. I didn’t mean nothing.”

“So, is Mrs. Aliso home today?”

“Let’s take a look.”

Nash slid the door of the gatehouse back open, went inside and picked up a clipboard. He scanned it quickly and flipped back to the prior page. After scanning it he put the clipboard down and came back out.

“She should be there,” he said. “Hasn’t been out in two days.”

Bosch nodded his thanks.

“I gotta call her, you know,” Nash said. “Rules.”

“No problem.”

Nash raised the gate and Bosch drove through.

Veronica Aliso was waiting at the open door of her house when they got there. She was wearing tight gray leggings beneath a long loose T-shirt with a copy of a Matisse painting on it. She had on a lot of makeup again. Bosch introduced Edgar and she led them to the living room. They declined an offer for something to drink.

“Well, then, what can I do for you men?”

Bosch opened his notebook and tore out a page he had already written on. He handed her the page.

“That’s the number of the coroner’s office and the case number,” he said. “The autopsy was completed yesterday and the body can be released to you now. If you are already working with a funeral home, just give that case number to them and they’ll take care of it.”

She looked at the page for a long moment.

“Thank you,” she finally said. “You came all the way up here to give me this?”

“No. We also have some news. We’ve arrested a man for your husband’s murder.”

Her eyes widened.

“Who? Did he say why he did this?”

“His name is Luke Goshen. He’s from Las Vegas. Have you ever heard of him?”

Confusion spread across her face.

“No, who is he?”

“He’s a mobster, Mrs. Aliso. And your husband knew him pretty well, I’m afraid. We’re going to Las Vegas now to get him. If all goes well, we will be coming back with him tomorrow. Then the case will proceed through the courts. There will be a preliminary hearing in municipal court, and then if Goshen is bound over for trial as we assume he will be, there will be a trial in Los Angeles Superior Court. It is likely you will have to testify briefly during the trial. Testify for the prosecution.”

She nodded, her eyes far off.

“Why did he do it?”

“We’re not sure yet. We’re working on that. We do know that your husband was involved in business dealings with this man’s, uh, employer. A man named Joseph Marconi. Do you recall if your husband ever mentioned Goshen or Joseph Marconi?”

“No.”

“What about the names Lucky or Joey Marks?”

She shook her head in the negative.

“What business dealings?” she asked.

“He was cleaning money for them. Washing it through his film business. You sure you did not know anything about this?”

“Of course not. Do I need my lawyer? You know he already told me not to talk to you people.”

Bosch gave an easy smile and held his hands up.

“No, Mrs. Aliso, you don’t need your lawyer. We’re just trying to get to the facts of the case. If you knew something about your husband’s business dealings, it might help us build a case against this man Goshen and possibly his employer. You see, right now we’ve got this Goshen character pretty well tied up for this. We’re not sweating that. We’ve got ballistics, fingerprints, hard evidence. But he wouldn’t have done what he did if Joey Marks didn’t tell him to. Joey Marks is who we’d really like to get. And the more information I have about your husband and his business, the better the chance we have of getting to Joey Marks. So if there is anything you can help us with, now is the time to tell us.”

He was silent and waited. She looked down at the now folded piece of paper in her hand. She finally nodded to herself and looked at him.

“I know nothing about his business,” she said. “But there was a call last week. It came here on Wednesday night. He took it in the office and closed the door but…I went to the door and listened. I could hear his side of it.”

“What did he say?”

“He called the caller Lucky. I know that. He did a lot of listening and then he said he’d be out there by the end of the week. He then said he’d see the caller at the club. And that was it.”

Bosch nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell us this before?”

“I didn’t think it was important. I…you see, I thought he was talking to a woman. The name Lucky, I thought it was a woman’s name.”

“Was that why you were listening through the door?”

She averted her eyes and nodded her head.

“Mrs. Aliso, have you ever hired a private investigator to follow your husband?”

“No. I thought about it but I didn’t.”

“But you suspected he was having an affair?”

“Affairs, Detective. I not only suspected, I knew. A wife can tell.”