expression of skepticism on his face. But it was no act with Bosch. He felt sick at what they had done.
"Look," Rickard said. "We got two ounces of PCP off this asshole. He's mine. If he don't want to help out, then too fucking bad. He goes back into the zoo."
"No, he doesn't." And then Bosch leaned close to Rickard so the deputy behind the boy could not hear. "No, he doesn't, Rickard. We're taking him out. Now do it, or I'm going to fuck you up."
"What did you say?"
"I'll go to the fifth floor with it. This boy should've never been up here with that charge. That's on you, Rickard. I'll make the complaint. Your connection in here will get burned too. You want that? Just because you couldn't get this kid to talk?"
"You think IAD's going to give a shit about a little punk pusher?"
"No. But they'll give a shit about bagging you. They'll love you. You'll come out walking slower than this boy."
Harry leaned back away from him. Nobody said anything for a few moments and Bosch could see Rickard thinking it through, trying to decide if it was a bluff.
"A guy like you, going to IAD. I can't see it."
"That's the risk you take."
Rickard looked down at the paper in his hand and then slowly crumpled it.
"Okay, my man, but you better put me on the list."
"What list?"
"The one you got of people you have to watch your back with."
Bosch stood up and so did Rickard.
"We're cutting him loose," Rickard said to the guard.
Bosch pointed to the boy and said, "I want an escort with this man until he is out of there, got it?"
The deputy nodded. The boy said nothing.
It took an hour to get him out. After Rickard signed the appropriate papers and they got their badges back, they waited wordlessly by the glass window on the seventh floor.
Bosch was disgusted with himself. He had lost sight of the art. Solving cases was simply getting people to talk to you. Not forcing them to talk. He had forgotten that this time.
"You can go if you want," he said to Rickard.
"As soon as he walks out that door and you've got him, I'm gone. Want nothing to do with him. But I want to see him leave with you, Bosch. In case any of this comes back on me."
"Yeah, that's smart."
"Yes, it is."
"But you still've got a lot to learn, Rickard. Everything isn't black and white. Not everybody has to be ground into the sidewalk. You take a kid like that and—"
"Spare me the lesson, Bosch. I might have a lot to learn but it won't be from you. You're a class A fuckup. Think the only thing you could teach me is how to climb down the ladder. No thanks."
"Sure," Bosch said and walked to the other side of the room where there was a bench. He sat down and fifteen minutes later the boy came out. He walked between Rickard and Bosch to the elevator. Outside the Hall of Justice, Rickard headed off to his car after simply saying to Bosch, "Fuck you."
"Right," Bosch said.
He stood on the sidewalk, lit a cigarette and offered one to the boy. He declined.
"I'm not telling you anything," the boy said.
"I know. That's cool. You want me to take you anywhere? A real doctor? A lift back to Hollywood?"
"Hollywood's fine."
They walked to Bosch's car, which was parked two blocks away at Parker Center and he took Third Street toward Hollywood. They were halfway there before either one spoke.
"You have a place? Where do you want me to drop you?"
"Anywhere."
"No place?"
"No."
"Family?"
"Nope."
"What will you do?"
"Whatever."
Harry turned north on Western. They were silent for another fifteen minutes or so, until Bosch pulled to a stop in front of the Hideaway.
"What's this?"
"Sit tight. I'll only be a minute."
Inside the office, the manager tried to rent Bosch room seven but Harry flipped him his badge and told him try again. The manager, who was still wearing a dingy sleeveless T-shirt, gave him the key to room thirteen. He went back to the car and got in and gave the boy the key. He also took out his wallet.
"You've got a room in there for a week," Bosch said. "For what it's worth, which you probably don't think is much, my advice is that you think about things and then get as far away from this town as you can. There are better places to live than this."
The boy looked at the key