The Dark Hours (Harry Bosch #23)(60)

“I haven’t broken any laws,” the informant said.

“There are state laws, and there are gang laws,” Ballard said. “You think Humberto Viera up in Pelican Bay thinks you’re innocent? You think he doesn’t want to know where you’ve been these last ten years?”

Ballard could see the threat pierce the informant’s armor. Ballard had put things together correctly. Viera was the philandering fiancé and he now had the rest of his life in maximum security to consider who had wronged him.

“Sit down over there,” Bosch said, pointing to a couch. “Now.”

He had read the situation as well. The informant had just gone from tough ex-gang girl to kept woman, scared that her carefully ordered life with a wealthy older man could suddenly change.

She did as she was told and went to the couch. Ballard took a swivel chair across a bamboo coffee table from her, turning it from a view through the sliders to a view of the informant. Bosch walked over to the sliders and stayed standing with his back to Gene, who was trying to watch through the glass.

“What’s your name?” Ballard asked.

“I’m not giving my name,” the informant said.

Resentment was written all over her face.

“I need something to call you by,” Ballard insisted.

“Then call me Darla,” the woman said. “I always liked that name.”

“Okay, Darla, tell me about the street banker. Who was he?”

“All I know is that he was a cop and his name was Bonner. That’s it. I never saw him. I don’t know what he looks like. Please leave now.”

“What kind of cop?”

“I don’t know.”

“LAPD? Sheriff ’s?”

“I said I don’t know.”

“What was his first name?”

“I don’t know that either, or I would have told you.”

“How do you know he was a cop? How did you know his last name?”

“From Berto. He talked about the guy.”

“He said he was a street banker?”

“He said he was the guy who could get money for Raffa. He told him. I was there.”

“Where?”

“We drove to Raffa’s father’s place. Where they fixed cars up front and chopped ’em up in the back. Raffa came to the car and Berto told him. He gave him a number to call. And he also warned El Chopo that Bonner was a cop. He said he had to be careful about dealing with him because he was a cop and he was serious people.”

“What does that mean, ‘serious people’?”

“You know, like don’t cross him. There are consequences for shit like that.”

“Did that mean he was a killer?”

“I don’t know. It meant he was serious.”

“Okay. Were there other times Bonner was mentioned?”

“Yeah, when Raffa brought the money to Humberto. He said Bonner got it for him from a doctor and he had to sign papers and all of that.”

“What kind of doctor?”

“I didn’t hear that part or they didn’t talk about it. Just a doctor is what I remember.”

“How come you never told this to your handler at the LAPD — about the banker being a cop?”

“Because I’m not a fool.”

“What’s that mean?”

“For one thing, if something happened, Berto would know it came from me because he told me about Bonner in the first place. And the other thing is that you don’t rat out cops to cops. That’s just stupid. Next thing you know, somebody rats you out to your man. You understand what I’m saying?”

“I do. How do you think Berto met Bonner in the first place?”

“I don’t know that. They just got together somehow. They knew each other before I was in the picture.”

Ballard knew that was a key connection to make.

“When was that?” she asked. “When you entered the picture?”

“Me and Berto got together when I was seventeen,” Darla said. “That was ’04. And we were together for six years.”

Ballard had some respect for Darla and her path. To come out of East Hollywood and end up on the beach was an unlikely journey. She could see that Darla carried a certain pride in it, despite the choices of men she used to get there.

“Do you know if there were other transactions between Berto and Bonner?” Ballard asked. “I mean besides the deal with Raffa.”

“Yeah, they had business,” Darla said. “Like when someone needed big money, they would, like, talk and shit. I think there were other deals.”

Ballard looked at Bosch to see if he had any questions she had not covered. He nodded.

“How did Berto and Bonner communicate?” he asked.

“By phone mostly,” Darla said. “Sometimes they would meet up.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.”

Darla looked away when she answered. It was the first time in the conversation that Ballard had seen a tell indicating untruthfulness. Ballard glanced at Bosch and he nodded slightly. He had seen it too.

“You sure?” Ballard asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Darla said. “You think I asked Berto about his business all the time? That would get me killed.”