The Closers

by Michael Connelly

  "They're only homeless people."

  "Yeah, and eighty percent of them are homeless because they've got faulty wiring, faulty plumbing, the whole bit. You be careful. Maybe you ought to call Central Division and see if they'll send a car with you. Maybe they can spare the U-boat tonight."

  The U-boat was a single-officer car primarily used as a gopher for the watch commander. But Bosch didn't think he needed a chaperone. He told Rider he would be all right and that she could go as soon as she showed him how to use the AutoTrack computer.

  "Well, Harry, first you have to have a computer. I did it right from my laptop."

  He came around to her side and watched as she went to the AutoTrack website, entered password information and arrived at a template for a name search.

  "Who do you want to start with?" she asked.

  "How about Robert Verloren?"

  She typed in the name and set parameters for the search.

  "How fast does this work?" Bosch asked.

  "Fast."

  In a few minutes she had located an address trail for Rebecca Verloren's father. But it stopped short at the house in Chatsworth. Robert Verloren had not updated his driver's license, bought property, registered to vote, applied for a credit card or had a utilities account in over ten years. He was a blank. He had disappeared-at least from the electronic grid.

  "He must still be on the street," Rider said.

  "If he's even still alive."

  Rider put the names Tara Wood and Daniel Kotchof through the AutoTrack moves and came up with multiple name hits for both of them. But by using their approximate ages and focusing on Hawaii and California they narrowed the searches to two address trails they believed belonged to the correct Tara Wood and Daniel Kotchof. Wood may not have gone to her high school reunion but it wasn't because she had moved far away. She had only moved from the Valley over the hills to Santa Monica. Meanwhile, it appeared that Daniel Kotchof had returned from Hawaii many years earlier, lived in Venice for a few years and then returned to Maui, where his current address was located.

  The last name Bosch gave Rider to run through the computer was Sam Weiss, the burglary victim whose gun was used to murder Rebecca Verloren. Though there were hundreds of hits on the name, it was easy to find the right Sam Weiss. He had never left the home where the burglary had taken place. He even had the same phone number. He had stood his ground.

  Rider printed everything out for Bosch and also gave him the number for Grace Tanaka, which they had gotten earlier from Bailey Sable. She then gathered what she would need to work on the search warrant at home.

  "If you need me give me a page," she said as she put her computer into a padded case.

  After she was gone Bosch checked the clock over Pratt's door and saw it was just past six. He decided he would spend an hour or so chasing names before heading down to the Toy District to look for Robert Verloren. He knew he was just procrastinating over a search through the human throwaway zone that would be certain to leave him depressed. So he checked the clock again and promised himself he would spend no more than an hour working the phone.

  He decided to go with the locals first but quickly struck out. Calls to both Tara Wood and Sam Weiss went unanswered and connected him with automated message systems. He left a message for Wood identifying himself, giving his cell phone number and mentioning that the call was in regard to Becky Verloren. He hoped that mentioning her friend's name would be enough to intrigue and draw a response from her. With Weiss he only left his name and number, not wanting to forewarn him that the call was about what might be a source of guilt for the man who had indirectly provided the weapon that killed a sixteen-year-old girl.

  Next he called Grace Tanaka's number in Hayward and she answered after six rings. From the start she seemed put out by the call, as if it had interrupted something important, but her gruff manner and voice softened as soon as Bosch said he was calling about Rebecca Verloren.

  "Oh my God, is something happening?" she asked.

  "The department has taken an avid interest in reinvestigating the case," Bosch said. "A name has come up. This is an individual who may have been involved in the case in nineteen eighty-eight and we are trying to figure out if he fit in with Becky or her friends in any way."

  "What's his name?" she asked quickly.

  "Roland Mackey. He was a couple years older than Becky. Didn't go to Hillside but he lived right there in Chatsworth. Does the name mean anything to you?"

  "Not really. I don't remember it. How was he connected? Was he the father?"

  "The father?"

  "The police said she was pregnant. I mean, that she had been pregnant."

  "No, we don't know if he was connected that way or not. So you don't recognize the name?"

  "No."

  "He goes by Ro for short."

  "Still don't."

  "And you're saying you didn't know about the pregnancy, is that right?"

  "I didn't. None of us did. I mean, her friends."

  Bosch nodded even though he knew she couldn't see this. He didn't say anything, hoping that she might get uncomfortable with the silence and say something that might be of value.

  "Um, do you have a picture of this man?" she finally asked.

  It wasn't what Bosch was looking for.

  "Yes," he said. "I'll have to figure out a way to get it up there for you to look at, see if it jogs anything loose."

  "Can you just scan it and e-mail it?"

  Bosch knew what she was asking him to do, and while he could not do it himself he guessed that Kiz Rider probably could.

  "I think we could do that. My partner's the computer person and she's not here at the moment, though."

  "I'll give you my e-mail address and she can send me the picture when she comes back."

  Bosch wrote the address she recited in his small notebook. He told her she'd get the e-mail the following morning.

  "Is there anything else, Detective?"

  Bosch knew he could end the call and have Rider take a shot at bonding with Grace Tanaka after the photo was sent to her. But he decided not to miss the opportunity to start stirring emotions and memories. Maybe something would break loose.

  "I have just a few more questions. Uh, that summer, how would you characterize your relationship with Becky?"

  "What do you mean? We were friends. I'd known her since first grade."

  "Right, well, were you the closest to her, do you think?"

  "No, I think that would have been Tara."

  Another confirmation that Tara Wood had been tightest with Becky at the end.

  "So she didn't confide in you when she found out she was pregnant."

  "No, I already told you, I didn't know about it until after she was dead."

  "What about you? Did you confide in her?"

  "Of course I did."

  "Everything?"

  "Detective, what are you getting at?"

  "Did she know you were gay?"

  "What did that have to do with anything?"

  "I'm just trying to get a picture of the group. The Kitty Kat Club, I think the four of you called -"

  "No," she said abruptly. "She didn't know. None of them knew. I don't think I even knew back then. Okay, Detective? Is that enough?"

  "I'm sorry, Ms. Tanaka. I'm just trying to get as full a picture as I can. I appreciate your candor. One last question. If Becky was at a clinic after going through the procedure and she needed a ride home because she didn't think she could drive, who would she have called?"

  There was a long silence before Grace Tanaka answered.

  "I don't know, Detective. I would have hoped that it would have been me. That I was that kind of friend. But obviously it was somebody else."

  "Tara Wood?"

  "You'll have to ask her. Good night, Detective Bosch."

  She hung up and Bosch pulled open the yearbook so he could look at her photo. She was a petite Asian and the photo-so many years old-didn't match the gruff demeanor of the vo
ice he had just heard on the phone.

  Bosch wrote a note for Rider that contained the e-mail address and instructions to scan and send the photo of Mackey. He also wrote a short warning about his encountering resistance from Tanaka when he brought up her sexuality. He slid the note over to her desk so she would see it first thing in the morning.

  That left one last call, this one to Daniel Kotchof, who lived, according to AutoTrack, in Maui, where it was two hours earlier.

  He called the number he had gotten from the AutoTrack search and a woman answered the line. She said she was Daniel Kotchof's wife and told Bosch that her husband was at work at the Four Seasons Hotel, where he was employed as the hospitality manager. Bosch called the work number she gave him and was put through to Daniel Kotchof. He said he could only talk for a few minutes and put Bosch on hold for five of them while he went to a more private spot in the hotel to talk. When he finally came back on the line the call started out unproductively. Like Grace Tanaka, he did not recognize the name Roland Mackey. He also seemed to treat the call as a nuisance or an intrusion. He explained that he was married and had three children and that he rarely thought about Becky Verloren anymore. He reminded Bosch that he and his family had moved from the mainland a year before her death.

  "But I was led to believe that after you moved to Hawaii, you two continued to call each other quite often," Bosch said.

  "I don't know who told you that," Kotchof said. "I mean, we talked. Especially at first. I would have to call her 'cause she said her parents told her it was too much money for her to call me. I thought that was kind of bogus. They just wanted me out of the picture is all. So I had to call, but it was like, what's the use? I was in Hawaii and she was in L.A. It was over, man. And pretty soon I got a girlfriend here-in fact, she's my wife now-and I stopped calling Beck. That was it until, you know, later, when I heard about what happened and the detective called me."

  "Did you know about it before the detective called?"

  "Yeah, I'd heard. Mrs. Verloren called my dad and he broke the news to me. I also got some calls on it from some of my friends out there. They knew I'd want to know about it. It was weird, man, this girl that I knew gets wiped out like that."

  "Yeah."

  Bosch thought about what else he could ask. Kotchof's story conflicted in small ways with Muriel Verloren's account. He knew he would need to square the stories at some point. Kotchof's alibi also continued to bother him.

  "Hey, look, Detective, I should get going," Kotchof said. "I'm at work. Is there anything else?"

  "Just a few more questions. Do you remember how long before Rebecca's death it was that you stopped calling her?"

  "Um, I don't know. Somewhere around the end of that first summer. Something like that. It had been a while, almost a year."

  Bosch decided to try to rattle Kotchof and see what came out. It was something he would rather have attempted in person but there was no time or money for a trip to Hawaii.

  "So your relationship was definitely over by the time of her death?"

  "Yes, definitely."

  Bosch thought the chances of recovering phone records from back then were not very high.

  "When you were still calling was it always at a certain time? You know, like an appointment."

  "Sort of. I was two hours behind so I couldn't call too late. I usually called right after dinner and that was right before she was going to go to bed. But like I said, it didn't last too long."

  "Okay. Now I have to ask you something pretty personal. Did you have sex with Rebecca Verloren?"

  There was a pause.

  "What's that got to do with this?"

  "I can't explain that, Dan. But it is part of the investigation and it could have a bearing on the case. Do you mind answering?"

  "No."

  Bosch waited but Kotchof said nothing else.

  "Is that your answer?" Bosch finally asked. "You two never had sex?"

  "We never did. She said she wasn't ready and I didn't push it. Look, I have to go."

  "Okay, Dan, just a few more. I'm sure you would like for us to catch the guy who did this, right?"

  "Yes, right, it's just that I'm at work."

  "Yes, you said that. Let me ask you, when was the last time you saw Rebecca?"

  "I don't remember the exact date but it was like the day we left. When we said good-bye. That morning."

  "So you never came back from Hawaii once your family moved?"

  "No, not at first. I mean, I've been back since. I lived in Venice for a couple years after I finished school, but then I came back here."

  "But not between the time your family moved and the time of Rebecca's murder. Is that what you are saying?"

  "Yes, right."

  "So if another witness I have spoken to said she saw you in town that weekend of July Fourth, right before Rebecca disappeared, then she would be wrong about that?"

  "Yeah, she'd be wrong. Look, what is this? I told you. I never went back. I had a new girlfriend. I mean, I didn't even go back for the funeral. Who told you they saw me? Was it Grace? She never liked me-that dyke. She was always trying to get me in trouble with Beck."

  "I can't tell you who it is, Dan. Just like if you want to tell me something in confidence then I will respect that."

  "Whoever it is, she's a fucking liar," Kotchof said, his voice turning shrill. "That is a goddamn lie! Check your records, man! I had an alibi. I was working on the day she was taken, and I was working the next day, too. How could I have gotten there and back? Whoever told you that is totally fucking bogus!"

  "It's your alibi that is bogus, Dan. Your old man could have put your supervisor up to it. That was easy."

  A moment of silence passed before there was a response.

  "I don't know what you are talking about. My father didn't put anybody up to anything and that's a goddamn fact. We had the time cards and my boss talked to the cops and that was it. Now you come along seventeen years later with this shit? Are you fucking kidding me?"

  "Okay, Dan, take it easy. Sometimes people make mistakes. Especially when you are going back all those years."

  "This is all I need, to be dragged into this. Man, I've got a family over here."

  "I said take it easy. You aren't dragged into anything. This is just a phone call. Just a conversation, okay? Now, is there anything else you can tell me or want to tell me to help with this thing?"

  "No. I told you all I know, which is nothing. And I have to go. I mean it this time."

  "So were you upset when Rebecca told you she was pregnant and it was obvious to you that it was with another guy?"

  There was no answer at first so Bosch tried to turn the screw a bit.

  "Especially since she would never have relations with you when you two were together."

  Bosch realized he had gone too far and tipped his hand. Kotchof realized that Bosch was playing good cop and bad cop with him all at once. When he responded, his voice was calm and modulated.

  "She never told me that," he said. "I never knew until it came out after."

  "Really? Who told you?"

  "I can't remember. One of my friends, I guess."

  "Really? Because Rebecca kept a journal. And you're all over it, man. And she says she told you and you weren't too happy about it."

  Now Kotchof laughed and Bosch knew he had really blown it.

  "Detective, you are full of shit. You're the one who's lying. This is really weak, man. I mean, I watch Law and Order, you know."

  "Do you watch CSI?"

  "Yeah, so?"

  "Well, we got the killer's DNA. If we match it to somebody they're going to take a fall. DNA is the ultimate closer."

  "Good. Check mine and maybe this can all be over for me."

  Bosch knew he was the one backpedaling now. He had to end the call.

  "Okay then, Dan, we'll let you know about that. Meantime, thank you for your help. One last question. What's a hospitality manager?"

  "You mean here at the hote
l? I take care of large parties and conferences and weddings and things like that. I make sure it all runs smoothly when these big groups come in here."

  "Okay, well, I'll let you get back to it. Have a good day."

  Bosch hung up and sat at the desk thinking about the call. He was embarrassed by how he had let the upper hand slip across the line to Kotchof. He knew his interviewing skills had largely been dormant for three years but that did not salve the burn. He knew he had to get better and it had to be soon.