The Dark Hours (Harry Bosch #23)(52)

Ballard and Bosch went back to the church to see if the family was finished with the procession of well-wishers. There was no one at the door of the chapel. Ballard looked inside and saw the widow and the daughters but not the son, Gabriel.

“I need to find Gabriel so he can translate if needed,” she said. “Stay here in case they start to leave.”

“I’ll stall them,” Bosch said.

Ballard went back down the hallway and looked through the double doors leading to the larger cathedral. She saw Gabriel sitting in a pew by himself. She entered and quietly walked down the center aisle. Gabriel was using a penknife to scratch something into the wooden bench. It said “GOD S,” and she didn’t think after the last three days that he was working on the word “SAVES.”

“Gabriel,” she said. “Stop.”

He was so badly startled that he dropped the knife and it clattered to the marble floor. Ballard could see smeared tears on his face.

“Look,” she said. “I know what has happened to your family is horrible. If you want to help do something about it, help me talk to your mother. Come.”

She stepped back into the aisle. He hesitated, then started to reach down for his knife.

“Give me that,” Ballard said. “You don’t need it, and it will only get you into trouble. Let’s go talk to your mother.”

Gabriel came out of the pew and handed her the knife. He walked with his head down all the way to the chapel. Ballard folded the knife closed and put it in her pocket.

“What was done to your father wasn’t right,” Ballard said. “But he got out of the street life and that’s what he wanted for you. Don’t let him down, Gabriel.”

“I won’t,” Gabriel said.

“You told me the other night that your father had a partner — a white guy from Malibu. Did he come to the memorial today?”

“I think so. He was the white guy, right?”

“I don’t know, Gabriel. I’m asking you. Do you know his name?”

“No, I don’t remember it. I only saw him one time when he came to the shop.”

Bosch was waiting outside the door of the chapel. He nodded to Ballard, indicating that the rest of the family was still inside.

Ballard and Gabriel entered. Bosch followed but hung back by the door. Ballard reintroduced herself to the family and said she needed to ask some questions. She said Gabriel had volunteered to translate if necessary. The mother was named Josefina and she agreed to talk to Ballard. She looked as if the tears of the last days had left permanent lines on her brown face. She had the look that Ballard had seen a hundred times before on women whose men were taken by violence — the look that asks, How do I live? How do I take care of my family?

“First, I want to assure you that we are doing everything we can to find out who did this to Javier,” Ballard began, speaking slowly. “We have some leads that we are following and hopefully they will bring us to an arrest. I can’t tell you everything we’re doing, so some of my questions might seem strange. I just ask you to be patient and to know the information you provide is important. Do you understand, or would you like Gabriel to translate?”

“I understand, yes,” Josefina said.

“Good. Thank you. Let me start with what we asked the other night at the hospital. Do you know of anyone who wanted to harm Javier?”

“No. Who would do this? Javier was good man.”

“Did he say anything recently about angry customers or employees?”

“No. Everybody happy. It was a happy place.”

“Did Javier have a will?”

Josefina’s face showed confusion. Ballard looked at Gabriel, trying to think of how to explain. Bosch called from the back of the chapel.

“Ultimo testamento.”

Ballard looked back at him and nodded, realizing he’d had many such conversations in his years as a homicide detective. She looked back at Josefina, who spoke to her son in Spanish.

“She doesn’t know,” Gabriel said.

“Did he have a lawyer?” Ballard asked. “Abogado?”

“Sí, sí, sí,” Josefina said. “Dario Calvente es su abogado.”

Ballard nodded.

“Thank you,” she said. “We’re going to call on him and he may ask you for permission to talk to us.”

Gabriel translated and Josefina nodded.

“Did Mr. Calvente come today?”

Josefina nodded.

“Did you know your husband’s business partner?” Ballard asked.

“No,” Josefina said.

“Was he here today? Dr. Hoyle?”

“I don’t know.”

It was clear to Ballard that Josefina knew little about Javier’s business dealings and that she needed to talk to the lawyer for clarity on things like the will, insurance, and records pertaining to the partnership.

“Josefina, did you know that Javier had to pay his way out of the Las Palmas gang?” Ballard asked.

Josefina nodded and seemed to take a moment to compose her answer. She spoke in Spanish and Gabriel translated.

“We could not have a family if he was doing these things with the gang,” he said.

“How much did he have to pay?” Ballard asked.

“Veinticinco,” Josefina said.