the other side of the room and Locke stepped through. He was wearing blue jeans and a tie-dyed T-shirt. He stuck his hand out to Bosch and Harry noticed the leather thong tied around his wrist.
“Harry, how goes it?”
“Fine. I'm fine. How're you? I'm sorry to barge in on you like this but I was wondering if you have a few minutes. I have some new information on that thing I bothered you with the other night.”
“No bother at all. Believe me, it's great to get my fingers on a real case. Student labs can be boring.”
He told Bosch to follow him and they went back through the door, down a hallway and into a suite of offices. Locke led him to the room in the back which was his office. Rows of textbooks and what Bosch guessed were collected theses lined shelves on the wall behind his desk. Locke dropped into a padded chair and put a foot up on the desk. A green banker's light on the table was lit, and the only other light came from a small casement window set high on the wall to the right. Every now and then the light from the window would flicker as someone up on the ground level walked by and briefly blocked its path, a human eclipse.
Looking up at the window, Locke said, “Sometimes I feel like I'm working in a dungeon down here.”
“I think the student out front thinks so, too.”
“Melissa? Well, what do you expect? She's chosen child psychology as her major and I can't seem to convince her to cross to my side of the road. Anyway, I doubt you came to campus to hear stories about pretty young students, though I don't suppose it could hurt.”
“Maybe some other time.”
Bosch could smell that someone had smoked in the room, though he saw no ashtray. He took his cigarettes out without asking.
“You know, Harry, I could hypnotize you and alleviate that problem for you.”
“No thanks, Doc, I hypnotized myself once and it didn't work.”
“Really, are you one of the last of the dying breed of LAPD hypnotists? I heard about that experiment. Courts shot it down, right?”
“Yeah, wouldn't accept hypnotized witnesses in court. I'm the last one they taught who's still in the department. I think.”
“Interesting.”
“Anyway, there've been some developments since we last talked and I thought it would be good to touch base with you, see what you think. I think you steered us right with that porno angle and maybe you'll come up with something now.”
“What have you got?”
“We have—”
“First off, do you want some coffee?”
“Are you having any?”
“Never touch it.”
“Then I'm fine. We've come up with a suspect.”
“Really?”
He dropped his foot off the desk and leaned forward. He seemed genuinely interested.
“And he had a foot in both camps, like you said. He was on the task force and his beat, uh, his area of expertise is the pornography business. I don't think I should identify him at this time because—”
“Of course not. I understand. He's a suspect, hasn't been charged with anything. Detective, don't worry, this entire conversation is off the record. Speak freely.”
Bosch used a trash can next to Locke's desk as an ashtray.
“I appreciate it. So, we are watching him, seeing what he is doing. But it gets tricky here. See, because he is probably the department's top man on the porno industry, it is natural we go to him for advice and information.”
“Naturally, if you didn't, he would most assuredly become suspicious of the fact that you are suspicious of him. Oh what a wonderful web we weave, Harry.”
“Tangled.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Locke got up and started pacing around the room. He put his hands in his pockets and then took them out. He was staring at nothing, just thinking the whole time.
“Go on, this is great. What'd I tell you? Two independent actors playing the same role. The black heart does not beat alone. Go on.”
“Well, like I said, it was natural to go to him and we did. We suspected that, with the discovery of the body this week and what you said, that there might be others. Other women who disappeared who were in that business.”
“So you asked him to check it out? Excellent.”
“Yes, I asked him yesterday. And today he gave me four more names. We already had the name of the concrete blonde found this week and one other that the suspect provided the other day. So you add the first two—Dollmaker victims seven and eleven—and now we have