The concrete blonde - By Michael Connelly Page 0,109
city attorney apparently suspected none of this. Instead, he thought of it as a stroke on his side of the page. Probably in two weeks, when Keyes lets her go with a hundred-dollar fine and a lecture during the contempt hearing, he'll get it.
“You can do whatever you want,” he told Belk. “But she isn't going to take it. She's in on this one until the end.”
At Parker Center Bosch went into Irving's conference room through the door that opened directly off the hallway. Irving had decided the day before that the now-called Follower Task Force would work out of the conference room so the assistant chief could be kept up on developments to the minute. What wasn't said about the move but was known was that keeping the group out of one of the squad rooms improved the chance that word of what was happening would remain secure—for at least a few days.
When Bosch walked in only Rollenberger and Edgar were in the room. Bosch noticed that four phones had been installed and were on the round meeting table. There were also six rovers—Motorola two-way radios—and a main communications console on the table, ready to be used as needed. When Edgar looked up and saw Bosch he immediately looked away and picked up a phone to make a call.
“Bosch,” Rollenberger said. “Welcome to our operations center. Are you free from the trial? No smoking in here, by the way.”
“I'm free until a verdict but I've got a fifteen-minute leash on me. Anything going on? What's Mora doing?”
“Not much is happening. Been quiet. Mora spent the morning in the Valley. Went to an attorney's office in Sherman Oaks and then to a couple of casting agencies, also in Sherman Oaks.”
Rollenberger was looking at a logbook in front of him on the table.
“After that he went to a couple houses in Studio City. There were vans outside of these houses and Sheehan and Opelt said they thought they might be making movies at these locations. He didn't stay long at either place. Anyway, he's back over at Ad-Vice now. Sheehan called in a couple minutes ago.”
“Did we get the extra people?”
“Yeah, Mayfield and Yde will take the watch at four from the first team. Then we've got two other teams after that.”
“Two?”
“Chief Irving changed his mind and wants an around-the-clock watch. So we'll be on him through the night, even if he just stays at home and sleeps. Personally, I think it's a good idea that we go ‘round the clock.”
Yeah, especially since Irving decided to do it, Bosch thought but didn't say. He looked at the radios on the table.
“What's our freek?”
“Uh, we're on … frequency, frequency—oh, yeah, we're on five. Symplex five. It's a DWP communications freek that they only use during a public emergency. Earthquake, flooding, stuff like that. Chief thought it be best to keep off our own freeks. If Mora is our man, then he might be keeping an ear to the radio.”
Bosch thought Rollenberger probably thought it was a good idea, but didn't ask him.
“I think it's a good idea to play it safe this way,” the lieutenant said.
“Right. Anything else I should know?” He looked at Edgar, who was still on the phone. “What's Edgar got?”
“Still trying to locate the survivor from four years ago. He already pulled a copy of Mora's divorce file. It was uncontested.”
Edgar hung up, finished writing something in a notebook and then stood up without looking at Bosch. He said, “I'm going down to get a cup.”
“Okay,” Rollenberger said. “We should have our own coffeemaker in here by this afternoon. I talked it over with the chief and he was going to requisition one.”
Bosch said, “Good idea. I think I'm going down with Edgar.”
Edgar walked quickly down the hallway so that he could stay ahead of Bosch. At the elevator he pushed the button but then without breaking stride walked past the elevator and into the stairwell to go down. Bosch followed and after they had gone down one floor, Edgar stopped and whipped around.
“What are you following me for?”
“Coffee.”
“Oh, bullshit.”
“Did—”
“No, I didn't talk to Pounds yet. I've been busy, remember?”
“Good, then don't.”
“What are you talking about?”
“If you haven't talked to Pounds about it, then don't. Forget about it.”
“Serious?”
“Yeah.”
He stood there looking at Bosch, still skeptical.
“Learn from it. So will I. I already have. Okay?”
“Thanks, Harry.”
“No, don't ‘Thanks, Harry’ me. Just say ‘okay.’”
“Okay.”
They walked down to the next floor and to the cafeteria. Rather than sit in front of