same age, you know.”
Bosch hesitated. He knew that Haller was asking for more than a visit between the two girls. Haller was Bosch’s half brother, though they had never met as adults until they crossed paths on a case just a year before. Hooking up the daughters meant hooking up the fathers, and Bosch wasn’t sure he was ready for that.
“When the time is right we’ll do it,” he said. “Right now, she’s supposed to start school tomorrow and I’ve got to get her settled in here.”
“Sounds good. You be safe, Harry.”
Bosch closed the phone and concentrated on finding Henry Lau’s residence. The streets that made up the neighborhoods at the south end of Venice were gridded in alphabetical order and Quarterdeck was one of the last before the inlet and Marina del Rey.
Venice was a bohemian community with uptown prices. The building where Lau resided was one of the newer glass-and-stucco structures that were slowly crowding out the little weekend bungalows that had once lined the beach. Bosch parked in an alley off Speedway and they walked back.
The building was a condominium complex and there were signs out front advertising two units for sale. They entered through a glass door and stood in a small vestibule with an inner security door and a button panel for calling up to individual units. Bosch didn’t like the idea of pushing the button for unit 11. If Lau knew police were at the building entrance, he could escape through any fire exit in the building.
“What’s the plan?” Chu said.
Bosch started pushing the buttons for the other units. They waited and finally a woman answered one of the calls.
“Yes?”
“Los Angeles police, ma’am,” Bosch said. “Can we speak with you?”
“Speak to me about what?”
Bosch shook his head. There was a time when he would not have been questioned. The door would have been immediately opened.
“It’s about a homicide investigation, ma’am. Can you open the door”
There was a long pause and Bosch wanted to buzz her again but he realized he was not sure which of the buttons he had pushed was the one she had responded to.
“Can you hold your badges to the camera, please?” the woman said.
Bosch had not realized there was a camera and looked around.
“Here.”
Chu pointed to a small aperture located at the top of the panel. They held up their badges and soon the inner door buzzed. Bosch pulled it open.
“I don’t even know what unit she was in,” Bosch said.
The door led to a common area that was open to the sky. There was a small lap pool in the center and the building’s twelve townhomes all had entrances here, four each on the north and south sides and two each on the east and west. Eleven was on the west side, which meant the unit had windows facing the ocean.
Bosch approached the door to number 11 and knocked on it and got no answer. The door to number 12 opened and a woman stood there.
“I thought you said you wanted to speak to me,” she said.
“We’re actually looking for Mr. Lau,” Chu said. “Do you know where he is?”
“He might be at work. But I think he said he was shooting at night this week.”
“Shooting what?” Bosch asked.
“He’s a screenwriter and he’s working on a movie or a TV show. I’m not sure which.”
Just then the door to number 11 cracked open. A man with bleary eyes and unkempt hair peered out. Bosch recognized him from the photo Chu had printed.
“Henry Lau?” Bosch said. “LAPD. We need to ask you some questions.”
44
Henry Lau had a spacious home with a back deck that was ten feet over the boardwalk and had a view of the Pacific across the widest stretch of Venice beach. He invited Bosch and Chu in and asked them to sit down in the living room. Chu sat down but Bosch remained standing, positioning his back to the view so that he would not be distracted during the interview. He wasn’t getting the vibe he was expecting. Lau seemed to take their knocking on his door as routine and expected. Harry hadn’t counted on that.
Lau was wearing blue jeans, sneakers and a long-sleeved T-shirt with a silk-screened image of a long-haired man wearing sunglasses, and a caption that said, the dude abides. If he had been sleeping, he had slept in his clothes.
Bosch pointed him to a square black leather chair with armrests a foot wide.
“Have a seat, Mr. Lau, and we’ll try not to take