The Dark Hours (Harry Bosch #23)(95)

“Oh, yes. Right in front of my house.”

“And how long would you estimate that it has been out?”

“Just since yesterday. I know it was working Saturday because it shines over the top of my shades in my bedroom. It’s like a night-light for me. I noticed it was gone last night and I emailed Martha Welborne this morning. This seems to be a lot of attention for one little streetlight. What’s going on?”

“My name is Renée Ballard. I’m a detective with the Los Angeles Police Department. I don’t want to scare you, Ms. Stovall, but I believe someone may be planning to break into your home.”

Ballard knew no gentler way to put it, but as she expected, Stovall reacted with extreme alarm.

“Oh my god — who?”

“I don’t know that but — ”

“Then how do you know? You just call people up and scare the shit out of them? This doesn’t make sense. How do I know you’re even a cop? A detective or whatever you say you are.”

Ballard had anticipated having to prove who she was to this woman.

“Is this number a cell phone?” she asked.

“Yes,” Stovall said. “Why do you want to know that?”

“Because I’m going to hang up and text you photos of my police ID and my badge. Then I’ll call you back and explain what’s going on in fuller detail. Okay, Ms. Stovall?”

“Yes, send the text. Whatever this is, I want it to be over.”

“So do I, Ms. Stovall. I’m disconnecting now and will call you back.”

Ballard ended the call, pulled up photos of her badge and police ID, and texted them to Stovall. She waited a few minutes for them to land and be viewed, then called back.

“Hello.”

“Hannah — can I call you Hannah?”

“Sure, fine, just tell me what’s going on.”

“Okay, but I’m not going to sugarcoat this, because I need your help. There are two men out there targeting women in the Hollywood area. They invade their homes in the middle of the night and assault them. We believe they knock out the streetlights near the victim’s home a night or two before the attack.”

There was a long silence only punctuated by the repeated intake of breath.

“Hannah, are you all right?”

Nothing.

“Hannah?”

Finally she came back with words.

“Are they the Midnight Men?”

“Yes, Hannah.”

“Then why aren’t you here right now? Why am I alone?”

“Because they might be watching you. If we make a show, we lose the chance to capture them and end this.”

“You’re using me as bait? Oh my fucking god!”

“No, Hannah. You’re not bait. We have a plan to keep you safe. Again, that’s why I’m calling you instead of showing up. There’s a plan. I want to tell it to you but I need you to be calm. There is no reason to panic. They don’t come during the day. They — ”

“You said they could be watching.”

“But they are not going to break in during daylight hours. It’s too dangerous for them, and the fact that your light is out proves they’re coming at night. Do you understand?”

No answer.

“Hannah, do you understand?”

“Yes. What do you want me to do?”

“Good, Hannah. Stay calm. In an hour this will be over for you and you’ll be safe.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes, I promise. Now, this is what I want you to do. You keep your car in your garage, right?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of car is it? What color?”

“It’s an Audi A-six. Silver.”

“Okay, and where do you do your grocery shopping?”

“I don’t understand, why are you asking me this?”

“Just bear with me, Hannah. Where do you shop?”

“Usually at the Pavilions on Vine. Melrose and Vine.”

Ballard was not familiar with the store but immediately computed that this was a different location from the markets frequented by the other three victims of the Midnight Men.

“Is there a coffee shop inside?”

“There’s a Starbucks.”

“Okay, what I want you to do is get in your car and go to Pavilions. If you have reusable bags, carry one of them in like you’re going to do some light shopping. But first go to the Starbucks. I will meet you there.”

“I have to leave here?”

“It’s going to be safest if you are not there tonight, Hannah. I want to get you out without anything looking unusual. You are just going to the store to pick up a coffee and some dinner. Okay?”

“I guess. Then what?”

“I’ll meet you there, we’ll talk some more, and then I’ll put you in the hands of another detective, who will make sure you are guarded and safe until this is over.”

“When should I leave?”

“As soon as you can. You drive up to Melrose and go right and head to the store. You’ll pass me and I’ll be able to tell if you are followed. Then I’ll meet you at the Starbucks. Can you do this, Hannah?”

“Yes. I told you I could.”