Michael Connelly - Trunk Music

Lindell whistled over the line.

“Seems like a lot to me. Seems like Joey would’ve caught that and put the hammer down on Tony pronto. That’s not what you call permissible.”

“Well, I think it accrued over the years, you know. He could have piecemealed it. Also, he was washing money for some of Joey’s friends in Chicago and Arizona, remember? He could’ve skimmed them, too.”

“Anything’s possible. Listen, Bosch, let me know how it all shakes out. I have to catch a plane.”

“One more thing.”

“Bosch, I gotta get to Burbank.”

“You ever heard of anybody in Vegas named John Galvin?”

Galvin was the name of the man who had last visited Veronica Aliso on the night she disappeared. There was a beat of silence before Lindell finally said the name was not familiar. But that silence was what Bosch really heard.

“You sure?”

“Look, I never heard of the guy, okay? I gotta go.”

After hanging up, Bosch opened his briefcase on the dining room table and took out a notebook so he could write down a few notes about what Lindell had said. Eleanor came out of the kitchen with utensils and napkins in her hands.

“Who was that?”

“Lindell.”

“Who?”

“The agent who was Luke Goshen.”

“What did he want?”

“I guess to apologize.”

“That’s unusual. The bureau usually doesn’t apologize for anything.”

“It wasn’t an official call.”

“Oh. Just one of those macho male bonding calls.”

Bosch smiled because she was so right.

“What’s this?” she asked as she put the silverware down and took the tape of Casualty of Desire out of his briefcase. “Oh, was this one of Tony Aliso’s movies?”

“Yeah. Part of his Hollywood legacy. It’s one of the ones Veronica was in. I was supposed to give it back to Kiz.”

“You already saw it?”

Bosch nodded.

“I would’ve liked to see it. Did you like it?”

“It was pretty bad, but we can put it on tonight if you want.”

“You sure you wouldn’t mind?”

“I’m sure.”

During dinner Bosch updated her in detail about the case. Eleanor asked few questions and eventually they lapsed into a comfortable quiet. The Bolognese sauce and linguini Eleanor had made was fantastic and Bosch broke the silence to tell her so. She had opened a bottle of red wine and that tasted good, too. He told her about that as well.

Afterward, they left the dishes in the sink and went out to the living room to watch the movie. Bosch sat with his arm on the back of the couch, his hand lightly touching Eleanor’s neck. He found it boring to watch the film again and his mind quickly drifted away as he thought over the day’s events. The money was what held his attention the longest. He wondered if Veronica already had it in her possession or if it was in a place where she had to go to get it. Not a local bank, he decided. They had already checked the local bank accounts.

That left Las Vegas, he concluded. Tony Aliso’s travel records showed that in the last ten months he had not been anywhere but Los Angeles and Las Vegas. If he had been operating a skim fund, he’d have to have had access to it. If the money wasn’t here, then it was over there. And since Veronica had not left the house before today, Bosch also concluded that she didn’t have the money yet.

The phone rang and interrupted these thoughts. Bosch climbed up from the couch and answered the phone in the kitchen so he wouldn’t disturb Eleanor’s viewing of the movie. It was Hank Meyer calling from the Mirage but it didn’t sound like Hank Meyer. It sounded like a scared boy.

“Detective Bosch, can I trust you?”

“Sure you can, Hank, what’s the matter?”

“Something’s happened. I mean, something’s come up. Uh, because of you I know something I don’t think I should know. I wish this whole thing…I don’t know what to-”

“Hold on, hold on, Hank. Just calm down and tell what it is that’s wrong. Be calm. Talk to me and we’ll fix it. Whatever it is, we’ll fix it.”

“I’m at the office. They called me at home because I had a flag on the computer for that betting slip that belonged to your victim.”

“Right.”

“Well, somebody cashed it tonight.”

“Okay, somebody cashed it. Who was it?”

“Well, you see, I put an IRS flag on the computer. Meaning that the cashier was supposed to request a driver’s license and get a Social Security number, you know, for tax purposes. Even though this ticket was worth only four thousand I put the flag on it.”

“Okay, so who cashed the slip?”

“A man named John Galvin. He had a local address.”

Bosch leaned over the counter and pressed the phone tightly to his ear.

“When did this happen?” he asked.

“At eight-thirty tonight. Less than two hours ago.”

“I don’t understand, Hank. Why is this upsetting to you?”

“Well, I left instructions on the computer for me to be contacted at home as soon as this slip was cashed. I was contacted. I came in and got the information on who cashed the slip so I could get it to you ASAP and then I went directly to the video room. I wanted to see this John Galvin, you know, if we got a clear picture of him.”

He stopped there. It was like pulling teeth getting the story out of him.

“And?” Bosch said. “Who was it, Hank?”

“We got a clear picture. It turns out I know John Galvin but not as John Galvin. Uh, as you know, one of my duties is to interface with law enforcement, maintain relations and help when I can whenever there-.”

“Yes, Hank, I know. Who was it?”

“I looked at the video. It was very clear. John Galvin is a man I know. He’s in Metro, a captain. His name is-”

“John Felton.”

“How’d-”

“Because I know him, too. Now listen to me, Hank. You didn’t tell me this, okay? We never talked. It’s best that way. Safest for you. Understand?”

“Yes, but…but what is going to happen?”

“You don’t have to worry. I’ll take care of it and no one at Metro will ever know about this. Okay?”

“Okay, I guess. I-”

“Hank, I’ve got to go. Thanks, and I owe you a favor.”

Bosch hung up and called information for the number of Southwest Airlines at the airport in Burbank. He knew Southwest and America West handled most of the flights to Las Vegas and they both flew out of the same terminal. He called Southwest and had them page Roy Lindell. While he waited, he looked at his watch. It had been more than an hour since he had talked to Lindell, but he didn’t think the agent was in as much of a hurry as he had intimated on the phone. Bosch thought he had just said that to get off the phone.

A voice came on the line and asked who he was holding for. After Bosch repeated Lindell’s name, he was told to hold and after two clicks Lindell’s voice was on the line.

“Yeah, this is Roy, who’s this?”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Who is this?”

“John Galvin is John Felton and you knew it all the time.”

“Bosch? Bosch, what are you doing?”

“Felton is Joey’s man in Metro. You knew that from being on the inside. And when Felton does things for Marks, he uses the name John Galvin. You knew that, too.”

“Bosch, I can’t talk about this. It’s all part of our in-”

“I don’t give a shit about your investigation. You have to figure out whose side you’re on, man. Felton has got Veronica Aliso. And that means Joey Marks has got her.”

“What are you talking about? This is crazy.”

“They know about the skim, don’t you see? Joey wants his money back and they’re going to squeeze it out of her.”

“How do you know all of this?”