The Narrows (2004)

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The Narrows (2004) Page 15

by Michael Connelly


  An hour went by and it gave me time to think about what I had stumbled into. There was no doubt that this was a body recovery site. The smell, that unmistakable smell, was in the air. Besides that, I had seen two unmarked vans with no windows on the sides or back. That told me something right there. Body movers. And there was more than one body to be moved.

  At the ninety-minute mark I was sitting on the couch reading a month-old FBI Bulletin I had picked up off the coffee table. I heard a helicopter fly over the RV and then its turbines rev down and quit after it landed. Five minutes later the RV's door opened and the agents I had been waiting for came in. Two women and a man. One of the women I recognized right off but I couldn't place from where. She was late thirties, tall and pretty with dark hair. There was a deadness in her eyes that I had seen before, too. She was an agent and that meant there could have been a lot of places where our paths had crossed.

  "Mr. Bosch?" said the other woman, the one in charge. "I'm Special Agent Cherie Dei. This is my partner, Tom Zigo, and this is Agent Walling. Thank you for waiting for us."

  "Oh, I had a choice? I didn't realize that."

  "Of course. I hope they didn't tell you that you had to stay."

  She smiled disingenuously. I decided not to argue the point and get things off to a bad start.

  "Do you mind if we move into the kitchen and sit at the table?" Dei asked. "I think it will be best to talk there."

  I shrugged like it didn't matter but I knew it did. They were going to sit me down and then corner me, one sitting across from me and then one on either side. I got up and took the seat I knew they'd want me in, the one where my back would be to the wall.

  "So," Dei said after sitting down across the table from me. "What brings you out to the desert, Mr. Bosch?"

  I made the shrug again. I was getting good practice at it.

  "I was just on my way to Vegas and pulled off to look for a place to take care of some business."

  "What kind of business?" I smiled.

  "I had to take a leak, Agent Dei."

  Now she smiled.

  "Oh, and then you just happened to stumble onto our little outpost here."

  "Something like that."

  "Something like that."

  'It is hard to miss. How many bodies you got out there?"

  "What makes you ask that? Who said anything about bodies?"

  I smiled and shook my head. She was going to play it hard all the way.

  "Do you mind if we take a look inside your car, Mr. Bosch?" she asked.

  "I think you probably already have."

  "And what makes you think that?"

  "I was a cop in L.A. I worked with the FBI before."

  "And so you know it all."

  "Put it this way, I know what a body dig smells like and I know you've looked in my car. You just want to get my permission now to cover your ass. I'm not giving it to you. Stay out of my car."

  I looked at Zigo and then over at Walling. It was then that I placed her and a whole profusion of questions came up out of the depths.

  "I remember you now," I said. "It's Rachel, right?"

  "Excuse me?" Walling asked.

  "We actually met once. A long time ago in L.A. In Hollywood Division. You were out from Quantico. You were chasing the Poet and you thought one of the guys on the table was the next target. All the time you were right there with the Poet."

  "You worked homicides?"

  "That's right."

  "How is Ed Thomas?"

  "Like me, he retired. But Ed went and opened a bookstore down in Orange. Sells mystery novels, if you can believe it."

  "lean."

  "You're the one who shot Backus, right? In the house on the hill."

  She didn't answer. Her eyes went from mine to Agent Dei's. There was something I didn't get. Walling was playing the lesser role here, but she obviously should have had seniority on Dei and her partner, Zigo. Then I put it together. She had probably been knocked down a notch or two in the scandal that came in the aftermath of the Poet investigation.

  That leap led to another. I took a shot in the dark.

  "That was a long time ago," I said. "Even before Amsterdam."

  Waiting's eyes flared for a split second and I knew I had hit something solid.

  "How do you know about Amsterdam?" Dei asked quickly.

  I looked back over at her. I pulled out the shrug again and gave it to her.

  "I just know, I guess. Is that what this is about? Is that the Poet's work out there? He's back, isn't he?"

  Dei looked at Zigo and signaled him to the door. He got up and left the RV. Dei then leaned forward so that I would not misunderstand the severity of the situation and her words.

  "We want to know what you are doing here, Mr. Bosch. And you are not going anywhere until we get what we want."

  I mirrored her posture by leaning forward. Our faces were two feet apart.

  "Your guy at the checkpoint took my license. I'm sure you took a look at it and know what I do. I'm working a case. And it's confidential."

  Zigo came back in. He was short and squat, must've just made it in over bureau regs. His hair was cut short like a military man's. He carried Terry McCaleb's file on the missing men in his hand. I knew inside it were the photos I had printed from Terry's computer. Zigo put the file down in front of Dei and she opened it The photo of the old boat was on top. She lifted it and slid it across to me.

  "Where did you get this?"

  "That's confidential."

  "Who are you working for?"

  "That's confidential."

  She flipped through the photos and came to the surreptitious shot Terry had taken of Shandy. She held it up tome.

  "Who is this?"

  "I don't know for sure but I'm thinking it's the long lost Robert Backus."

  "What?" Walling exclaimed.

  She reached over and grabbed the photo out of Dei's hands. I watched her eyes flick back and forth as she studied it.

  "Jesus Christ!" she whispered. She got up and walked with the photo over to the kitchen counter. She put it down and studied it some more.

  "Rachel?" Dei asked. "Don't say anything else."

  Dei turned back to the file. She spread the other photos of Shandy out on the table. She then looked back up at me. There was fire in her eyes now.

  "Where did you take these photos?"

  "I didn't."

  "Who did? And don't say it's confidential again, Bosch, or you are going to find yourself in a deep dark hole until it becomes wn-confidential. This is your last chance."

  I had been in one of the FBI's deep dark holes before. I knew if I had to I could take her best shot. But the truth was I wanted to help. I knew I should help. I had to balance that desire with what would be the best move for Graciela McCaleb. I had a client and I had to protect her.

  "Tell you what," I said. "I want to help. And I want you to help me. Let me make a phone call and see if I can't get released from confidentiality. How does that sound?"

  "You need a phone?"

  "I have one. I just don't know if it works out here."

  "It will. We put up a repeater."

  "That's nice. You guys think of everything."

  "Make your call."

  "I need to do it in private."

  "Then we'll leave you here. Five minutes, Mr. Bosch."

  I was back to Mr. Bosch with her. That was an improvement. "Actually, I would rather you wait here while I took a walk out in the desert. More private that way."

  "Suit yourself. Just do it."

  I left Rachel standing at the counter staring at the photo and Dei at the table looking at the file. I was escorted out of the RV and out to the open desert near the makeshift helicopter landing pad. Zigo stopped and let me walk on out by myself. He lit a smoke and kept his eyes on me. I pulled out my phone and checked the screen showing my last ten calls. I chose Buddy Lockridge's number and called it. I knew I had a good shot at reaching him because bis phone was a cell.
>
  "Yeah?"

  It didn't sound like him.

  "Buddy?"

  "Yeah, who is this?"

  "It's Bosch, where are you?"

  "I'm in bed, man. You always call me in bed."

  I looked at my watch. It was past noon.

  "Well, get up. I'm putting you to work."

  His voice immediately took on an alertness.

  "I'm up. What do you want me to dp?"

  I tried to quickly put together a plan. On the one hand I was annoyed with myself for not bringing McCaleb's computer with me, but on the other hand I knew that if I had brought it, then it would be in the bureau's hands now and not much use to me.

  "I need you to get to The Following Sea as fast as you can. In fact, take a helicopter and I'll pay you back. Just get over there and get on the boat."

  "Not a problem. Then what?" "Go on Terry's computer and into the photos. Print out the front and side shots of Shandy. Can you do that?"

  "Yeah, but I thought you already printed-"

  "I know, Buddy, I need you to do it again. Print those out, then go up into the file boxes on top. I forget which box but one of them has a file on a guy named Robert Backus. It's a-"

  "The Poet-yeah, I know which one."

  Of course you do, I almost said.

  "Okay, good. Take the file and the photos and bring them to Las Vegas."

  "Vegas? I thought you were in San Francisco."

  For a moment that confused me but then I remembered how I had lied to him to throw him off my track.

  "Changed my mind. Bring it all to Las Vegas, check into a hotel and wait for my call. Make sure your phone is charged. But don't call me, I'll call you."

  "How come I can't call you when I get in?"

  "Because in another twenty minutes I may not have this phone. Get moving now, Buddy."

  "You're going to pay for all of this, right?"

  "I'll pay. I'll also pay you for your time. You're on the clock, Buddy, so get moving."

  "All right, I'm on it. You know, there's a ferry in twenty minutes. I could take that and save you a bunch of money, you know."

  'Take a chopper. You'll beat the ferry by an hour. I need that hour."

  "Okay, man, I'm gone."

  "And Buddy? Don't tell anybody where you're going and what you're doing."

  "Right." He hung up and I checked Zigo before disconnecting. The agent had on dark glasses now but it appeared he was watching me. I faked like I had lost the signal and yelled hello a few times into the phone. I then closed it and reopened it and called Graciela's number. My luck was holding. She was home and answered.

  "Graciela, it's Harry. Some things are happening and I need your permission to talk with the FBI about Terry's death and my investigation."

  "The FBI? Harry, I told you I couldn't go to them first. Not until I-"

  "I didn't go to them. They came to me. I'm out in the middle of the desert, Graciela. Things I found in Terry's office led me out here and the FBI was already here. I think it is safe to talk. I think the person they are looking for here is the one who hurt Terry. I don't think this is going to come back on you now. I think I should talk to them, tell them what I've got. It might help catch this guy."

  "Who is it?"

  "Robert Backus. Do you know the name? Did Terry mention it?"

  There was silence while she thought about it.

  "I don't think so. Who is it?"

  "A guy he used to work with."

  "An agent?"

  "Yes. He was the one they called the Poet. Did you ever hear Terry talk about the Poet?"

  "Yes, a long time ago. I mean, three or four years. I remember he was upset because I think he was supposed to be dead but it looked like he wasn't Something like that."

  It must have been around the time that Backus had supposedly resurfaced in Amsterdam. Terry had probably just gotten the internal files on the investigation.

  "Nothing since then?"

  "No, I can't remember anything."

  "Okay, Graciela. So what do you think? I cannot talk to them unless you allow it. I think it is okay."

  "Then go ahead if you think it will help."

  "It means they'll be coming out there soon. FBI agents. They'll probably take The Following Sea back to the mainland to go over it."

  "What for?"

  "Evidence. This guy was on the boat. First as a charter and then he came back and snuck on. That was when he changed the meds."

  "Oh."

  "And they'll also come to the house. They'll want to talk to you. Just be honest, Graciela. Tell them everything. Don't hold anything back and it will be all right."

  "Are you sure, Harry?"

  "Yes, I'm sure. So you're all right with this?"

  "I'm all right."

  We said good-bye and disconnected. As I was walking back toward Zigo I opened my phone again and called my home number. I then disconnected and repeated the process nine more times, wiping out any record on my phone of the calls to Buddy Lockridge and Graciela McCaleb. If things went wrong in the RV and Dei wanted to know who I called, it wouldn't be easy for her. She'd get nothing off my phone. She'd have to go to the phone company with a warrant.

  As I approached, Zigo saw what I was doing. He smiled and shook his head. "You know, Bosch, if we wanted your phone numbers, we would've picked them out of the air."

  "Is that right?"

  "That's right, if we wanted to."

  "Wow, you guys are really rather special, aren't you?"

  Zigo looked at me over his sunglasses.

  "Don't be an asshole, Bosch. It gets tiring after a while."

  "You should know."

  CHAPTER 19

  Zigo escorted me back in without another word. Agent Dei was waiting at the table. Rachel Walling still stood by the counter. I calmly sat down and looked at Dei.

  "How'd it go?" she asked in a pleasant tone.

  "It went fine. My client says I can talk to you. But it's not going to be a one-way street. We trade. I answer your questions, you answer mine."

  She shook her head.

  "Uh-uh, that's not how it works. This is an FBI investigation. We don't trade information with amateurs."

  "You're saying I'm an amateur? I bring you a photo of the long-lost Robert Backus and I'm the amateur?"

  I saw movement and looked over to Rachel. She had brought her hand up to her face to hide a smile. When she saw me looking at her she turned toward the counter and acted like she was studying the photo of Backus again.

  "We don't even know if that is Backus," Dei said. "You've got a guy with a beard, a hat and dark glasses. It could be anybody."

  "And it could be the guy that is supposedly dead but somehow managed to kill five men in Amsterdam a few years ago and now, what, six men here. Or is it more than the six listed in that newspaper story?"

  Dei gave me a tight, unpleasant smile.

  "Look, you may be impressing yourself with all of this, but we're still not impressed. It still comes down to one thing: you want to get out of here, then start talking to us. Now you have your client's permission. I suggest you start by telling us who this client is."

  I leaned back. She was a fortress I didn't think I could break through. But if nothing else, I had gotten that smile from Rachel Walling. That told me I might have a shot at climbing over the FBI barricade with her later.

  "My client is Graciela McCaleb. Terry McCaleb's wife. Widow, I mean."

  Dei blinked, then quickly recovered from the surprise. Or possibly it wasn't surprise. Possibly it was a confirmation of some sort.

  "And why did she hire you?"

  "Because somebody switched out her husband's medicine and killed him."

  That brought a momentary silence. Rachel slowly stepped away from the counter and came back to her chair. With few questions or any direction from Dei I told them the story of how I had come to be called by Graciela, the details of her husband's tainted medications, and my investigation up until the point I reached t
he desert. I began to believe I was not surprising them with anything. Rather, it seemed more like I was confirming something or at least telling a story they already knew parts of. When I was finished Dei hit me with a few clarifying questions related to my movements. Zigo and Walling asked nothing.

 

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