Dark Sacred Night (Harry Bosch Universe #31)(19)

Bosch and Ballard decided to split reading duties rather than have Bosch back-read the cards Ballard had already gone through. It was the first sign of trust between them, a belief that each could rely on the other’s assessment of the cards. And it would make the process faster.

Ballard was at a desk positioned perpendicular to Bosch’s and this allowed her to watch him head-on, while he would have to turn and be more obvious about attempting to observe her. At first she surreptitiously kept an eye on him and in doing so ascertained that his process was different. His rate of putting cards aside for further consideration was far quicker than hers. At some point, he noticed that she was watching him.

“Don’t worry,” he said without looking up from his work. “I’m employing a two-step approach. First a big net, then a smaller net.”

Ballard just nodded, a bit embarrassed that she had been caught.

She soon started her own two-step process and stopped paying attention to Bosch, realizing that she was only slowing her own work down by watching him. After a long stretch of silence and after putting a large stack of cards into the no-interest pile, Ballard spoke.

“Can I ask you something?” she began.

“What if I said no?” Bosch replied. “You’d ask anyway.”

“How did Daisy’s mother end up living in your house?”

“It’s a long story, but she needed a place to stay. I had a room.”

“So this is not a romantic thing?”

“No.”

“But you let this stranger stay in your house.”

“Sort of. I met her on an unrelated case. I helped her out of a jam and then I found out about Daisy. I told her I’d look into the case and she could use the room I had while I investigated. She’s from Modesto. I assume that if we close this thing, I’ll get my room back and she’ll go home.”

“You couldn’t do that if you were with the LAPD.”

“There’s a lot I couldn’t do if I were still with the LAPD. But I’m not.”

They both went back to the cards but almost immediately Ballard spoke again.

“I still want to talk to her,” she said.

“I told her that,” Bosch said. “Anytime you like.”

A half hour went by and they both managed to finish off the cards in their respective boxes. Bosch went out into the hallway and brought a fresh box in for Ballard and then repeated the process for himself.

“How long can you do this?” Ballard asked.

“You mean tonight?” Bosch asked. “Till about five thirty. I have a thing at six up in the Valley. It may run through most of the day. If it does, I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

“When do you sleep?”

“When I can.”

They were ten minutes into their next boxes when Ballard’s radio squawked. Ballard responded and Munroe told her that a detective was requested on the burglary of an occupied dwelling on Sunset Boulevard.

Ballard looked at the stack of FI cards in front of her and radioed back.

“You sure they need a detective, L-T?”

“They asked. You in the middle of something or what?”

“No, I’m rolling now.”

“Roger that. Lemme know what you’ve got out there.”

Ballard stood up and looked at Bosch.

“I need to go and I can’t leave you here,” she said.

“You sure?” he asked. “I’ll stay here and keep chopping wood.”

“No, you’re not LAPD. I can’t leave you here unsupervised. I’d take a hit for that if someone came in and found you here.”

“Whatever. So, what do I do, go with you?”

Ballard thought about that. It would work.

“You can do that,” she said. “Take a stack of those with you and sit in the car while I check this call out. Hopefully, it’s not a long one.”

Bosch reached down into the box next to his desk and used two hands to pull out a good-size stack of cards.

“Let’s go,” he said.

The burglary call was less than five minutes from the station. The address was familiar to Ballard but she did not place it until they arrived and saw that it was a strip bar called Sirens on Sunset. And it was still open, which made the question of burglary a bit baffling.

There was one patrol car blocking the valet zone. Ballard pulled in behind it. She knew two units had already responded and assumed the other car was in the alley behind the station.

“This should be interesting,” Bosch said.

“Not for you,” Ballard said. “You wait here.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I hope this is just bullshit and I’ll be right back out. Start thinking about code seven.”

“You’re hungry?”

“Not right now but I’m gonna need a lunch break.”

Ballard grabbed the rover out of the console charger and got out of the car.

“What’s open?” Bosch asked.

“Almost nothing,” she said.

She closed the door and headed toward the front door of Sirens.

The interior entry area was dimly lit in red. There was a pay station with a bouncer and cashier, and a velvet-roped channel that led to an arched doorway to the dance floor. Ballard could see three small stages outlined in red below faux Tiffany atrium ceilings. There were women in various stages of undress on the stages but very few customers. Ballard checked her watch. It was 2:40 a.m. and the bar was open until 4. Ballard badged the bouncer.