Dark Sacred Night (Harry Bosch Universe #31)(23)

“I got that feeling about them when I was reading the book online.”

“Speaking of which, I started a secondary book with what I’ve been doing.”

“I’d like to see it.”

“It’s in my car. I’ll bring it in when we get back. I guess you should keep it now that you have official standing.”

“All right. I will. Thanks.”

Bosch reached into an inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a shake card. He slid it across the table for Ballard to read.

“I thought you said there were no keepers,” she said.

“There weren’t,” he said. “That one’s from earlier. Read it.”

She did. The card was written at 3:30 a.m. on February 9, 2009, several months before Daisy Clayton’s murder. The subject of the field interview was a man named John McMullen who was thirty-six years old at the time he was questioned at the intersection of Western and Franklin Avenues. McMullen had no criminal record. According to the card, he was driving a white Ford panel van marked with Bible quotes and religious sayings and registered to a city-licensed charitable foundation called the Moonlight Mission.

The card said the van was parked in a red zone while McMullen was on the nearby sidewalk accosting pedestrians and asking if they wanted to be saved by the grace of Jesus Christ. Those who demurred were treated to a verbal lashing that included dire predictions of their being left behind during the upcoming rapture.

There was more on the flip side of the card: “Subject refers to himself as John the Baptist. Cruises Hollywood in his van, looking for people to baptize.”

Ballard flipped the card onto the table in front of Bosch.

“Okay,” she said. “Why’d you wait to show me this now?”

“I wanted to check him out a little bit first,” Bosch said. “I made some calls while you were in the strip club.”

“And?”

“And the Moonlight Mission still exists and he’s still there.”

“Anything else?”

“The van—it’s still registered to him and apparently still in service.”

“Okay, but I have a stack back at the station of about twenty van stops. Why is this the one card you decided to steal?”

“Well, I didn’t steal it. I’m showing it to you. How’s that stealing?”

“I told you all the cards had to remain on LAPD property except that stack I let you take tonight.”

“Okay, fine. I took one of the cards I read earlier because I thought maybe after your callout we’d cruise by the Moonlight Mission and see what it’s all about. That’s all.”

She dropped her eyes to her plate and pushed the eggs around again with her fork. She didn’t like the way she was acting, being so picky and by the book with Bosch.

“Look,” Bosch said. “I know about you. I know you’ve been burned bad in the department. So was I. But I’ve never betrayed a partner, and over the years, I’ve had a lot of them.”

Ballard looked up at him.

“Partner?” she said.

“On this case,” Bosch said. “You said you wanted in. I let you in.”

“It’s not your case. It’s an LAPD case.”

“It belongs to whoever’s working it.”

Bosch took a sip of coffee, but she could tell by his reaction that it had gone cold. He turned to look back from the booth toward the kitchen, where the waitress was loitering, and held the mug up for more.

He then turned back to Ballard.

“Look, you want to work with me on it, then fine, let’s work,” he said. “If not, we work separately, and that would be too bad. But this territorial bullshit…that’s why nothing ever gets done. Like the great man said, Can’t we all just get along?”

Ballard was about to bark back at him, but the waitress was suddenly at the table with the coffee pot, and she held her tongue while both mugs were topped off. In those few seconds she calmed and thought about what Bosch had just said.

“Okay,” she said.

The waitress put a check down on the table and walked back toward the kitchen.

“Okay what?” Bosch said. “Which way do you want to go?”

Ballard reached over and grabbed the check.

“Let’s go to the Moonlight Mission,” she said.

When they got into Ballard’s city ride, she used her cell to call Lieutenant Munroe and tell him she was back in service but pursuing an investigative lead and would be out of the station until further notice. Munroe asked what case she was working on and she put him off, saying it was just a loose end on a hobby case. She disconnected and started the car.

“You don’t like him, do you?” Bosch said.

“I’m the only detective who has to report to a patrol lieutenant,” Ballard said. “He’s not really my boss but he likes to think he is. And look, about before? That callout to the strip club…it just sort of fired up my feral instincts. I shouldn’t have said you stole the shake card, okay? I apologize.”

“No need to. I get it.”

“No, you don’t. You couldn’t. But I appreciate your saying so.”

She pulled out of the empty Farmers Market parking lot onto Fairfax and headed north.

“Tell me about John the Baptist,” she said. “Where are we going and why?”