The Night Fire (Harry Bosch #22) - Michael Connelly Page 0,74
sure.
He still remembered the main number at Robbery-Homicide Division by heart. He expected that he always would. He punched it in on his cell phone and when the call went through to the secretary he asked for Detective Lucia Soto. He was immediately connected.
“Lucky Lucy,” he said. “It’s Bosch.”
“Harry,” she said, with a smile he could hear in her voice. “A voice from the past.”
“Come on, it hasn’t been that long, has it?”
“Seems like it.”
Soto was Bosch’s last partner in the LAPD. It had been more than three years since he had retired, but they had crossed paths several times since.
“So I should be whispering,” Soto said. “You’re sort of persona non grata around here these days.”
“Is that because of the Montgomery case?” Bosch asked.
“You guessed that right.”
“That’s the reason I’m calling. I’ve gotta make a run at Gustafson and Reyes. They might have dropped the case because they think they had the right guy. But me, not so much. I’m still working at it and I don’t know either one of them. Which one of them do you think would be more receptive to a call from me?”
There was a short silence before Soto responded.
“Hmm,” she said. “That’s a good question. I think the answer would be neither one of them. But if my life depended on it, I would try Orlando. He’s more even and he wasn’t lead. Gussy was and he’s taken what happened pretty hard. If he had a dartboard at his desk he’d have your photo on it.”
“Okay,” Bosch said. “Good to know. Do you see Reyes in the squad right now?”
“Uh … yes. He’s at his desk.”
“What about Gustafson?”
“No. No sign of him.”
“You wouldn’t have a direct line for Reyes handy, would you?”
“There’s always a catch with you, Harry, isn’t there?”
“What catch? I’m just looking for a phone number, no big deal.” Soto gave him the number and followed it with a question.
“So, what’s it like working for the other side?”
“I’m not working for the other side. I’m doing this thing right now for myself. That’s it.”
His tone must have been too strident. Soto backed off with the small talk and asked in a perfunctory tone if there was anything else Bosch needed.
“No,” Bosch said. “But I appreciate your help. Who you working with these days?”
“I’m with Robbie Robins. You know him?”
“Yeah, he’s a good man. Sound detective, reliable. You like him?”
“Yeah, Robbie’s okay. I like his style and we’ve cracked a couple good ones.”
“Still working cold cases?”
“As long as they let us. Word is the new chief wants to close down cold case, put more people on the street.”
“That would be a shame.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, good luck, Lucia. And thanks.”
“Anytime.”
They disconnected and Bosch looked at the phone number he had just written down for Detective Orlando Reyes. He didn’t think Soto would give him a heads-up about Bosch calling but he decided to call right away.
“Robbery-Homicide Division, Detective Reyes. How can I help you?”
“You can start by not hanging up. This is Harry Bosch.”
“Bosch. I should hang up. You want my partner, not me.”
“I talked to your partner. I want to talk to you now.”
“I got nothin’ to say to you, man.”
“You and Gustafson, you still think you had the right guy?”
“We know we did.”
“So you’re not working it any longer.”
“Case is closed. We didn’t get the result we wanted—thanks to you. But the case is CBA.”
“So then where’s the harm in talking to me?”
“Bosch, I got here after you left but I heard about you. I know you fought the good fight and did some good work. But that’s in the past now. You’re history and I gotta go.”
“Answer one question.”
“What?”
“What did you hold back?”
“What are you talking about?”
“In discovery. I got the murder book you two turned over but you held something back. It always happens. What was it?”
“Goodbye, Bosch.”
“You know Clayton Manley’s alibi was cooked, right?”
There was a pause and Bosch was no longer worried about Reyes hanging up.
“What are you talking about?”
“He knew Montgomery was going to get hit, so he goes to Hawaii and keeps receipts for every penny he spent. Lots of selfies, including one predawn on the charter boat—within an hour of the judge getting hit. That didn’t strike you guys as bullshit?”
“Bosch, I’m not talking about the case with you. You want to go after Clayton Manley, have fun. But don’t expect us to back you on it. You’re on your own.”
“What about Maura Frederick? Pretty little wife number two selling Maura’s invention and