The Night Fire (Harry Bosch #22) - Michael Connelly Page 0,78
got one hit of interest.”
“Which was?”
“About five years ago Michaelson and Mitchell represented Dominick Butino. Got him off on a weapons beef—witness changed his story. And that was it. Then the DNA came in on Herstadt and we dropped it. It didn’t mean anything anyway.”
Bosch knew the name. Dominick “Batman” Butino was a reputed organized-crime figure from Las Vegas who had business interests in Los Angeles. Bosch now knew exactly what Gustafson and Reyes had done. They had DNA directly linking Herstadt to the Montgomery killing. They weren’t going to put something in discovery—a certified mobster—that would allow the defense to create any sort of jury distraction.
They didn’t want Haller building a potential third-party-culpability case by pointing to a lawyer who had threatened and sued Montgomery, and whose firm represented a notorious organized-crime figure. Butino’s nickname did not come from the superhero but from his alleged use of a baseball bat to collect money owed to him.
It was a classic anti-discovery move by the cops. And it may have inadvertently hidden the real killer.
“Which lawyer?” Bosch asked.
“What?” Reyes said.
“Which lawyer in the firm represented Butino?”
“William Michaelson.”
A founding partner. Bosch wrote it down.
“So, you never talked to Manley about this?” he asked.
“Didn’t need to,” Reyes said.
“Did he ever know he was being looked at, that he was a suspect?”
“No, because he wasn’t a suspect. He was a person of interest for about five minutes. You’re acting like we dropped the ball on this but we didn’t. We had a DNA match, a suspect documented to have been in the vicinity, and then we had a confession. You think for one second we were going to spend another minute on Clayton Manley? Think again, Bosch.”
Bosch had what he needed but couldn’t end the call without throwing something back at Reyes.
“You know what, Reyes, you were right about what you said before,” he said. “A killer is out there walking free. But not because of anything I did.”
He disconnected the call.
BALLARD
33
Ballard met Bosch at a gas station on Crenshaw four blocks from Dulan’s. She was driving her van and Bosch was in his Cherokee. She had loaded her paddleboard inside the van to avoid being conspicuous. They pulled up side by side, driver’s window to driver’s window. Bosch had dressed as a detective, right down to his sport coat and tie. Ballard had dressed down and was wearing a Dodgers cap and a sweatshirt and jeans. Her hair was still damp from the shower after paddling.
“What’s our plan?” Ballard asked.
“I thought you had the plan,” Bosch said.
She laughed.
“Actually, I caught an all-night case last night and didn’t have much time to scheme,” she said. “I do have good news, though.”
“What’s that?” Bosch asked.
“Marcel Dupree hasn’t paid child support in three years and a judge wants to talk to him about it. He’s got a felony warrant.”
“That helps.”
“So what do you think we should do?”
“You’ve been in there before? What’s the setup?”
“One time. I read somewhere they had the best fried chicken in the city. And peach cobbler. So, I went to see. It’s like a counter—you go down the line, order what you want, then take it on a tray and find a place to sit. They have an overflow room that will probably be in use at one today, end of the lunch hour.”
“We need a signal. In case you need me. We’ve got no radios.”
“I brought my rover in case we want to hook Dupree up after.”
She handed the radio across to Bosch.
“You keep it in case something goes really sideways and you need to call it in. You remember the codes?”
“Of course. Code three—officer needs help. But what if things don’t go sideways? What are we doing?”
“Well, I’m going in by myself. Most people by themselves look at their cell phones. I’ll text you a running play-by-play and a code three if I need you to call in the troops.”
Bosch thought about things before speaking next.
“Once you’re in there and have your phone out, text me a hello so I know we have a clear signal,” he said. “But my question is what are you hoping to accomplish in there? You think you’re going to overhear their conversation, just get a look at Kidd, what?”
“Yeah, I want to get a look at him,” Ballard said. “And if I’m lucky and I’m close, I may hear something. I’ll put my phone on Record but I know that’s a long shot. I want to see if he’s panicked, and if he is