The Night Fire (Harry Bosch #22) - Michael Connelly Page 0,93

a few guys. I’ll also have to call in Rialto PD because it’s their turf.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“So, where are you?”

“On my way down to see my daughter. I’ll be back up tonight.”

“Any chance you can go by Norwalk? I still haven’t gotten anything from Sacramento and it’s on Selma’s follow-up list. We need Hilton’s birth certificate.”

Bosch pulled the documents out of his inside coat pocket. He unfolded them on the center console.

“I just walked out. Had to show my San Fernando star to get access. I traced Hilton through his mother. Her maiden name was Charles but she was never married before she married his stepfather.”

“Donald Hilton.”

“Right.”

“So, she was an unwed mother.”

“Right. So I looked through births under her name and found a birth that matched the DOB on John Hilton’s driver’s license. It was him. And the father was listed as John Jack Thompson.”

Ballard had a delayed reaction.

“Holy shit,” she finally said.

“Yeah,” Bosch said. “Holy shit.”

“Oh my god, this means he sat on his own child’s murder case! He stole the book so no one else could work it, then didn’t work it himself. How could he do that?”

They were both silent for a long moment. Bosch returned to the thoughts that had preoccupied him as he left the records building: the gut punch of knowing his mentor had acted so unethically and had put pride ahead of finding justice for his own child.

“This explains Hunter and Talis,” Ballard said. “They found out and then took a dive on the case to save Thompson from being embarrassed by public knowledge in the department that his son was—take your pick—a drug addict, an ex-con, and a gay man in love with a black gangbanger.”

Bosch didn’t respond. Ballard had nailed it. The only thing she had left out was the possibility that Thompson’s actions may have been an effort to protect his wife from that knowledge too. Bosch also thought about what Thompson had told him that time about not bringing a child into the world. It made him wonder if he had known about Hilton before his death or learned of his son only when Hunter and Talis brought the news.

“I’m going to call Talis back,” Ballard said. “I’m going to tell him I know why he and his partner took a dive. See what he has to say then.”

“I know what he’ll say,” Bosch responded. “He’ll say it was a different time and the victim was a no-count. They weren’t going to ruin John Jack’s marriage or reputation by hanging all this on the clothesline for the world to see.”

“Yeah, well, fuck that. There is no valid reason for this.”

“No, there isn’t. Just be careful about going back to Talis.”

“Why should I? Don’t tell me you’re sticking up for that old-school bullshit.”

“No, I’m not. I’m just thinking about the case. Selma Robinson might have to bring him down to testify. You don’t want to turn him into a hostile witness for the prosecution.”

“Right. I didn’t think about that. And sorry about that ‘old-school’ crack, Harry. I know you’re not like that.”

“Good.”

They were both quiet again for a long moment before Bosch spoke.

“So who do you think redacted the report in the murder book?” he asked. “And why?”

“Talis will never own up to it now,” Ballard said. “But my guess is they interviewed Hilton’s mother and stepfather, were told the real father was Thompson, and put it in the report. They inform Thompson and he asks them to wipe all mention of it out of the murder book. You know—professional courtesy, scumbag to scumbag.”

Bosch thought that was a harsh assessment, even while feeling that what John Jack had done to his own son was unforgivable.

“Or it was in the book all along and Thompson did it after he stole it,” Ballard added. “Maybe that was why he stole it. To make sure any mention of the biological father’s identity was removed or redacted.”

“Then why not just throw the book away or destroy it?” Bosch asked. “Then there would be no chance any of this would ever come to surface.”

“We’ll never know about that. He died with that secret.”

“I’m hoping there was still enough detective in him to think someone would get the book after he was gone and look into the case.”

“That someone being you.”

Bosch was silent.

“You know what I wonder?” Ballard said. “Whether Thompson even knew about the kid before the murder. You have an unwed mother. Did she tell him? Or did she just go off and