A Darkness More Than Night

by Michael Connelly

“I hope you make it through, Harry.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  • • •

  Bosch stepped out of the elevator into the hallway and headed toward the Department N courtroom. He saw a line of people cordoned off by the courtroom door: people waiting for a spectator seat to possibly open. A few reporters were milling about the open door of the pressroom but everybody else was at stations, watching the trial.

  “Detective Bosch?”

  Bosch turned. Standing in a pay-phone alcove was Jack McEvoy, the reporter he had met the day before. He stopped.

  “I saw you walk out and I hoped I’d catch you.”

  “I have to get back in there.”

  “I know. I just wanted to tell you that it is very important that I talk to you about something. The sooner the better.”

  “What are you talking about? What’s so important?”

  “Well, it’s about you.”

  McEvoy stepped out of the alcove so that he was closer to Bosch and did not have to speak as loud.

  “What about me?”

  “Do you know you are under investigation by the Sheriff’s Department?”

  Bosch looked up the hall toward the courtroom door and then back at McEvoy. The reporter was slowly bringing a pad of paper and pen up in his hands. He was ready to take notes.

  “Wait a minute.” Bosch put his hand on the notebook. “What are you talking about? What investigation?”

  “Edward Gunn, you remember him? He’s dead and you’re their suspect.”

  Bosch just stared at him, his mouth coming slightly open.

  “I wondered if you wanted to comment on this. You know, defend yourself. I’ll be writing a story for next week’s edition and wanted you to have the chance to tell your —”

  “No, no comment. I have to get back.”

  Bosch turned and walked a few paces toward the courtroom door but then stopped. He walked back to McEvoy, who was writing in the notebook.

  “What are you writing? I didn’t say anything.”

  “I know. That’s what I’m writing.”

  McEvoy looked up from the notebook to him.

  “You said next week,” Bosch said. “When does it come out?”

  “New Times is published every Thursday morning.”

  “So until when do I have, if I decide to talk to you?”

  “About Wednesday lunch. But that will be pressing it. I won’t be able to do much then but drop in some quotes. The time to talk is now.”

  “Who told you this? Who’s your source?”

  McEvoy shook his head.

  “I can’t discuss sources with you. What I want to talk about is this allegation. Did you kill Edward Gunn? Are you some kind of avenging angel? That’s what they think.”

  Bosch studied the reporter for a long moment before finally speaking.

  “Don’t quote me on this, but fuck you. You know what I mean? I don’t know if this is a bullshit bluff or not, but let me give you some advice. You better make damn sure you’ve got it right before you put anything in that paper of yours. A good investigator always knows the motivation of his sources — it’s called having a bullshit meter. Yours better be working real well.”

  He turned and walked quickly to the courtroom door.

  • • •

  Langwiser had just finished with the hair specialist when Bosch came back into the courtroom. Once again Fowkkes stood up and reserved the right to recall the witness during the defense case.

  While the witness came through the gate behind the attorneys’ lectern, Bosch slipped past him and went to his seat at the prosecution table. He didn’t look at or say anything to Langwiser or Kretzler. He folded his arms and looked down at the notepad he had left on the table. He realized he had adopted the same position and posture he had seen David Storey take at the defense table. The posture of a guilty man. Bosch quickly dropped his arms to his lap and looked up at the seal of the State of California which hung on the wall above the judge’s bench.

  Langwiser got up and called the next witness, a fingerprint technician. His testimony was quick and more corroboration of Bosch’s testimony. It went unchallenged by Fowkkes. The technician was followed to the stand by the patrol officer who answered the first call from Krementz’s roommate and then by his sergeant, who was the next to arrive.

  Bosch barely listened to the testimony. There was nothing new in it and his mind was racing in another direction. He was thinking about McEvoy and the story he was working on. He knew he should inform Langwiser and Kretzler but wanted time to think about things. He decided to hold off until after the weekend.

  The victim’s roommate, Jane Gilley, was the first witness to appear who was not part of the law enforcement community. She was tearful and sincere in her testimony, confirming details of the investigation already revealed by Bosch but also adding more personal bits of information. She testified about how excited Jody Krementz had been at the prospect of dating a major Hollywood player and how both of them had spent the day before her date getting manicures, pedicures and hair stylings.

  “She paid for me,” Gilley testified. “That was so sweet.” Her testimony put a very human face on what so far had been an almost antiseptic analysis by law enforcement professionals of a murder.

  When Gilley’s examination by Langwiser was concluded, Fowkkes finally broke with his pattern and announced he had a few questions for the witness. He stepped to the lectern without any notes. He clasped his hands behind his back and leaned slightly forward to the microphone.

  “Now, Ms. Gilley, your roommate was an attractive young woman, wasn’t she?”

  “Yes, she was beautiful.”

  “And was she popular? In other words, did she date a lot of fellows?”

  Gilley nodded hesitantly.

  “She went out.”

  “A lot, a little, how often?”

  “It would be hard to say. I wasn’t her social secretary and I have my own boyfriend.”

  “I see. Then let’s take, say, the ten weeks prior to her death. How many of those ten weeks would you say went by without Jody going out on a date?”

  Langwiser stood up and objected.

  “Your Honor, this is ridiculous. It has nothing to do with the night of October twelfth going into the morning of the thirteenth.”

  “Oh, but Your Honor, I think it does,” Fowkkes responded. “And I think Ms. Langwiser knows it does. If you allow me a little bit of string here, I will be able to quickly tie it up.”

  Houghton overruled the objection and told Fowkkes to ask the question again.

  “In the ten weeks prior to her death, how many weeks went by without Jody Krementz having a date with a man?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe one. Maybe none.”

  “Maybe none,” Fowkkes repeated. “And, Ms. Gilley, how many of those weeks would you say your roommate had at least two dates?”

  Langwiser objected again but was overruled again.

  “I don’t know the answer,” Gilley said. “A lot of them.”

  “A lot of them,” Fowkkes repeated.

  Langwiser rose and asked the judge to direct Fowkkes not to repeat the witness’s answer unless it was in the form of a question. The judge complied and Fowkkes went on as if he had not been corrected at all.

  “Were these dates all with the same fellow?”

  “No. Different guys mostly. A few repeats.”

  “So she liked to play the field, is that correct?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Is that a yes or no, Ms. Gilley?”

  “It’s a yes.”

  “Thank you. In the ten weeks prior to her death, weeks in which you said she most often had at least two dates, how many different men did she see?”

  Gilley shook her head in exasperation.

  “I have no idea. I didn’t count them. Besides, what does this have to do —”

  “Thank you, Ms. Gilley. I would appreciate it if you would just answer the questions I pose to you.”
r />   He waited. She said nothing.

  “Now, did Jody ever encounter difficulties when she stopped dating a man? When she moved on to the next?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I mean were all the men happy not to have a return engagement?”

  “Sometimes they’d get mad if she didn’t want to go out again. Nothing serious.”

  “No threats of violence? She wasn’t afraid of anyone?”

  “Not that she told me about.”

  “Did she tell you about every man she dated?”

  “No.”

  “Now, on these dates, did she often bring the men back to the home you two shared?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Did they stay over?”

  “Sometimes, I don’t know.”

  “You often weren’t there, is that correct?”

  “Yes, I often stayed at my boyfriend’s.”

  “Why is that?”

  She gave a short laugh.

  “Because I love him.”

  “Well, did you ever stay together overnight at your home?”

  “I don’t remember him ever staying over.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I guess because he lives alone. It was more private.”

  “Isn’t it true, Ms. Gilley, that you stayed overnight several times a week at your boyfriend’s home?”

  “Sometimes. So what?”

  “And that this was because you were unhappy with your roommate’s constant procession of overnight guests.”

  Langwiser stood up.

  “Your Honor, that’s not even a question. I object to its form and content. Jody Krementz’s lifestyle is not on trial here. David Storey is on trial for her murder and it’s not fair for the defense to be allowed to go after someone who —”

  “Okay, Ms. Langwiser, that’s enough,” Judge Houghton said. He looked over at Fowkkes. “Mr. Fowkkes, that’s about all the string I’m going to allow you to run with in that direction. Ms. Langwiser makes her point. I want you to move on with this witness.”

  Fowkkes nodded. Bosch studied him. He was a perfect actor. In his demeanor he was able to convey the frustration of a man being pulled back from a hidden truth. He wondered if the jury would see it as an act.

  “Very well, Your Honor,” Fowkkes said, putting the frustration into the inflection of his voice. “I have no further questions for this witness at this time.”

  The judge adjourned for the afternoon break of fifteen minutes. Bosch ushered Gilley through the reporters, down the elevator and out to her car. He told her she had done very well and handled Fowkkes’s cross-examination perfectly. He then joined Kretzler and Langwiser in the second-floor DA’s office where the prosecution team had a temporary office during the trial. There was a small coffeemaker in the room and it was half-filled with coffee brewed during the morning break. There wasn’t enough time for a fresh brew so they all drank the stale coffee while Kretzler and Langwiser considered the progress of the day.

  “I think the she’s-a-whore defense is going to backfire on them big time,” Langwiser said. “They have to have more than that.”

  “He’s just trying to show there were a lot of men,” Kretzler said. “And it could have been any of them. The shotgun defense. You shoot a lot of pellets and one’s bound to hit the target.”

  “It’s still not going to work.”

  “I’ll tell you one thing, with John Reason reserving on all of these wits, we’re moving really quickly. He keeps this up, we’re going to finish our case Tuesday or Wednesday.”

  “Good. I can’t wait to see what they’ve got.”

  “I can,” Bosch interjected.

  Langwiser looked at him.

  “Oh, Harry. You’ve weathered these storms before.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this one.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Kretzler said. “We’re going to kick their ass across the courtroom. We’re in the tube, man, and we ain’t coming out.”

  They put their three Styrofoam cups together in a toast.

  • • •

  Bosch’s current partner, Jerry Edgar, and former partner, Kizmin Rider, testified during the afternoon session. Both were asked by the prosecutors to recall the moments after the search of David Storey’s home when Bosch got into the car and reported to them that Storey had just bragged of committing the crime. Their testimony was solidly in tandem with Bosch’s own testimony and would act to buttress the case against defense assaults on Bosch’s character. Bosch also knew that the prosecutors hoped to gain additional credence with the jury because both Edgar and Rider were black. Five members of the jury and the two alternates were black. In a time when the veracity of any white police officer in Los Angeles would fall under suspicion by black jurors, having Edgar and Rider join a line of solidarity with Bosch was a plus.

  Rider testified first and Fowkkes passed on cross-examination. Edgar’s testimony mirrored hers but he was asked additional questions because he had delivered the second search warrant issued in the case. This one was a court order seeking hair and blood samples from David Storey. It had been approved and signed by a judge while Bosch was in New York following the Architectural Digest lead and Rider was on a Hawaiian vacation planned before the murder. With a patrol officer in tow, Edgar had once again appeared at Storey’s house at 6 A.M. with the warrant. He testified that Storey kept them waiting outside while he contacted his lawyer, who by now was the criminal defense attorney J. Reason Fowkkes.

  Once Fowkkes was apprised of the situation he told Storey to cooperate and the suspect was taken to Parker Center in downtown where samples of his pubic hair, scalp hair and blood were collected by a lab nurse.

  “Did you at any point during this traveling time and collection process question the defendant about the crime?” Kretzler asked.

  “No, I did not,” Edgar responded. “Before we left his residence he gave me his phone and I spoke to Mr. Fowkkes. He told me his client did not wish to be questioned or harassed, as he put it, in any way. So we basically drove in silence — at least on my part. And we didn’t talk at Parker Center either. When we were finished, Mr. Fowkkes was there and he drove Mr. Storey home.”

  “Did Mr. Storey make any unsolicited comments to you during the time he was with you?”

  “Just one.”

  “And where was that?”

  “In the car while we were driving to Parker Center.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “He was looking out the window and just said, ‘You people are fucked if you think I’m going down for this.’”

  “And was this piece of conversation tape-recorded?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because of his earlier admission to Detective Bosch, we thought there was a chance he might go ahead and make another statement like that. On the day I served the hair and blood warrant, I used a car borrowed from the narcotics unit. It’s a car they use for making street buys. It is wired for sound.”

  “Did you bring the tape from that day with you, Detective?”

  “Yes.”

  Kretzler introduced the tape as evidence. Fowkkes objected, saying that Edgar had already testified as to what was said and the audio wasn’t necessary. Again the judge overruled and the tape was played. Kretzler started the tape well before the statement made by Storey so that the jurors would hear the hum of the car engine and traffic noise and know that Edgar did not violate the defendant’s rights by questioning him in order to elicit the statement.

  When the tape came to Storey’s comment, the tone of arrogance and even hate for his investigators came through loud and clear.

  Wanting that tone to be what carried the jurors into the weekend, Kretzler ended his questioning of Edgar.

  Fowkkes, perhaps understanding the ploy, said he would have a brief cross-examination. He proceeded to ask Edgar a series of innocuous questions that added little to the record in fav
or of the defense or disfavor of the prosecution. At precisely 4 : 30 P.M. he ended the cross-examination and Judge Houghton promptly recessed for the weekend.

  As the courtroom emptied into the hallway, Bosch looked around for McEvoy but didn’t see him. Edgar and Rider, who had hung around after her testimony, came up to him.