could send all the manpower to the wrong place while his people in the vault went safely the opposite way.
"He's got everybody by the short hairs," Lewis said, more to himself than to the other two men in the car.
"Who, Bosch?" Clarke asked.
"He is running the caper. Nothing we can do but watch. We can't get in that vault. We can't go underground without knowing where we are going. He's already got the bureau's SWAT team tied up down by the freeway. They're waiting for burglars that aren't coming, goddammit."
"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Avery said. "The vault. You can get in it."
Lewis turned fully around in his seat to look at Avery. The vault owner told them that federal banking regulations didn't apply to Beverly Hills Safe & Lock because it wasn't a bank, and how he had the computer code that would open the vault.
"Did you tell this to Bosch?" Lewis asked.
"Yesterday and today."
"Did he already know?"
"No. He seemed surprised. He asked detailed questions on how long it would take to open the vault, what I had to do, things like that. Then today, when we had the alarm, I asked him if we should open it. He said no. Just said to get out of there."
"Damn," Lewis said excitedly. "I better call Irving."
He leapt from the car and trotted to the pay phones in front of Darling's. He dialed Irving at home and got no answer. He dialed the office and only got the duty officer. He had the officer page Irving with the pay phone number. He then waited for five minutes, pacing in front of the phone and worrying about the time going by. The phone never rang. He used the one next to it to call the duty officer back to make sure Irving had been paged. He had. Lewis decided he couldn't wait. He would have to make this call himself and it would be he who would become the hero. He left the bank of phones and went back to the car.
"What'd he say?" Clarke asked.
"We go in," Lewis said. He started the car.
The police radio keyed twice and then Hanlon's voice came on.
"Hey, Broadway, we have visitors over here on First."
Bosch grabbed up the radio.
"What have you got, First? Nothing showing on Broadway."
"We've got three white males going in on our side. Using a key. Looks like one is the man that was here earlier with you. Old guy. Plaid pants."
Avery. Bosch held the microphone up to his mouth and hesitated, not sure what to say. "Now what?" he said to Eleanor. Like Bosch, she was staring down the street at the vault room, but there was no sign of the visitors. She said nothing.
"Uh, First," Bosch said into the mike. "Did you see any vehicle?"
"None seen," Hanlon's voice came back. "They just walked out of the alley on our side. Must have parked there. Want us to take a look?"
"No, hold there a minute."
"They are now inside, no longer in visual contact. Advise, please."
He turned to Wish and raised his eyebrows. Who could it be?
"Ask for descriptions of the two with Avery," she said.
He did.
"White males," Hanlon began. "Number one and two in suits, worn and wrinkled. White shirts. Both early thirties. One with red hair, stocky build, five-eight, one-eighty. The other, dark-brown hair, thinner. I don't know, I'd say these guys were cops."
"Heckle and Jeckle?" Eleanor said.
"Lewis and Clarke. It's gotta be them."
"What are they doing in there?"
Bosch didn't know. Wish took the radio from him.
"First?"
The radio clicked.
"Reason to believe the two subjects in suits are Los Angeles police officers. Stand by."
"There they are," Bosch said, as three figures moved into the glare in the vault room. He opened the glove compartment and grabbed a pair of binoculars.
"What are they doing?" Wish asked as he focused.
"Avery is at the keypad next to the vault. I think he is opening the damned thing."
Through the binoculars, Bosch saw Avery step away from the computer board and move to the chrome wheel on the vault door. He saw Lewis turn slightly and glance up the street in the direction of the parking garage. Was there a slight trace of a smile there? Bosch thought he saw it. Then through the binoculars he saw Lewis draw his weapon from an underarm holster. Clarke did likewise and Avery started turning the wheel, the captain steering the Titanic.
"Those dumb assholes, they are opening it!"
Bosch leapt out of the car and started running down the