Desert Star (Renée Ballard, #5; Harry Bosch Universe, #36) (48)

“He’s got you down here as working for San Fernando PD.”

“I was there for a couple years, then I came back to the LAPD. I work cold cases now.”

“How can I help you?”

“I want to get the package for a guy named Nelson Hastings, DOB three-sixteen-seventy-six.”

“Okay, I’ve written it down.”

Now came the hard part. Bosch needed the information sooner rather than later and had to finesse Henic’s cooperation.

“Did you say your name is Henic?” he asked. “I want to update my contacts.”

“Yes, sir,” she said.

“Could you spell it? I want to make sure I have it right.”

“Hotel-Echo-November-India-Charlie.”

“Thanks. How about a first name?”

“Sarah with an h.”

“So, Sarah with an h, what kind of time frame are we talking about on this? I’ve got a clock on this case.”

“Well, you’re on the list. We usually take these in the order they come in. What sort of a clock?”

“If we’re right about this guy, he’s a serial killer. We need to take him down before he kills somebody new. And I need the military history to see if he can be placed in certain locations during certain years. We get that, and we can start pulling the net closed and get him off the street before he hurts somebody else. Nobody wants that on their conscience. You know what I mean?”

There was a beat of silence before Henic responded.

“I get it,” she finally said. “Give me twenty-four hours, and I’ll get back to you. Gary has your number and email on here. Those are still good?”

“Still good,” Bosch said. “So … tomorrow’s Saturday. Does that twenty-four hours carry over to Monday, or do you think I’ll hear something tomorrow?”

“I’m on duty tomorrow. You should hear from me.”

“Many thanks, Sarah with an h.”

Bosch disconnected and started his car. He then headed across the parking lot and back to the Ahmanson Center.





25


BALLARD WAS BACK at her workstation, writing up notes on her conversation with Kramer, when Bosch came up behind her chair and put down the evidence bag with the campaign button sealed in it.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Evidence,” Bosch said. “You need to get that into the print lab as soon as you can.”

“I know what it is. How did you get it?”

“I didn’t want to wait for the wheels of bureaucracy to turn. I went to Chicago and got it.”

Now Ballard raised her voice.

“You went to Chicago?”

“I just said I did.”

Ballard threw the pen she was holding down on the desk. It was a move that, along with her raised voice, was certain to draw attention in the pod.

“Harry, follow me.”

She got up and walked to the interview room for a private conversation. Bosch followed, head down, like a condemned man. They entered and Ballard closed the door loudly. She immediately brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh.

“That was so good,” she whispered. “They were all watching.”

“Well, you do need to get that button into forensics,” Bosch said.

“I will. Did you call your guy in St. Louis?”

“I did but he’s not there anymore. It’s a she now. I talked to her and she promised to get back within twenty-four hours. We’ll see. My other guy would have dropped everything, and he trusted me enough not to redact stuff. We’ll see with this new one.”

“Okay, let me know what you hear. You ready to go back out there?”

“Yeah. But you should raise your voice one more time, don’t you think?”

Ballard smiled and brought her hand up again before it turned into a laugh. Then she dropped the hand and spoke loud enough to be heard through the door.

“Go home. Now!”

Bosch nodded and whispered.

“That should work.”

He opened the door and walked out, adopting the same head-down countenance. Ballard watched from the doorway as he bypassed his workstation and headed straight for the exit. She shook her head as though frustrated to the limit by Bosch’s infraction.

After Bosch was gone, she returned to her workstation but stayed standing as she put her laptop and the evidence bag in her backpack. She was aware that Colleen Hatteras was watching her.

“Colleen, if anybody’s looking for me, I’m going downtown to the lab,” she said.

“Okay,” Hatteras said. “Are you coming back?”

“Probably not.”

“I wanted to give you an IGG update.”

“Did you make a connection?”

“No, not yet.”

“Then let’s see where you are Monday morning. I need to get to the lab.”

Hatteras frowned. She wanted the moment.

“Maybe something will break by then, Colleen,” Ballard said. “We’ll talk first thing Monday.”

“Fine,” Hatteras asked. “Did you just fire Bosch?”

She blurted out the last part and Ballard was pleased to know that the interview room play had worked.

“I’m not sure yet,” she said.