Dark Sacred Night (Harry Bosch Universe #31)(85)

“Look again, Mr. Pascal,” Ballard said. “It’s important. Did any of those women ever get into the van with you and Gayley?”

Pascal withdrew the file and impatiently looked again.

“You know how many women I’ve fucked in ten years?” he asked. “I can’t remember every—maybe her and maybe her.”

“Which ones?” Ballard asked

Pascal turned the file and pointed to two of the photos. One was Vickers. The other was Daisy Clayton.

Ballard took the file back and pointed to the photo of Daisy.

“Let’s start with her,” Ballard said. “You recognize her from the van?”

“I don’t know,” Pascal said. “Maybe. I can’t remember.”

“Think, Mr. Pascal. Look again. How do you recognize her? From where?”

“I told you. I don’t know. It was from back at that time, I guess.”

“She got into the van with you and Gayley?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ve fucked about a thousand women since then. How am I supposed to remember them all?”

“It must be difficult. What about her?”

She pointed to the photo of Vickers.

“Same thing,” Pascal said. “I think I remember her from back then. She mighta been in the van.”

“Where in Hollywood would Gayley stop the van to pick up women for his films?” Ballard asked.

“All over the place. Wherever the whores were, you know?”

“Santa Monica Boulevard?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Hollywood Boulevard?”

“Sure.”

“How about Western Avenue? Was that a place you stopped?”

“Most likely—if that’s where the pros were working.”

“Do you remember specifically stopping at Hollywood and Western to recruit women for the films?”

“No. Been too long.”

“Do you remember the name Daisy from back then?”

“Uh…”

He shook his head. Ballard knew she wasn’t getting anywhere. She went in a new direction.

“What was in the van?” she asked.

“You mean, like, inside the VW?” Pascal asked.

“Yes.”

“I don’t know. Stuff, you know? He always had a fucking carton of rubbers. He had to. And there was a mattress. All the seats were taken out and a mattress was on the floor. And he had extra sheets and all of that. Some costumes. Sometimes the girls would only work if they had on a disguise, you know?”

“How’d he store it?”

“He, uh, he had boxes and cartons and shit that he put it all in.”

“What kind of cartons?”

“You know, like plastic containers for putting shit in.”

“How big?”

“What?”

“How big were the plastic containers?”

“I don’t know. Like this.”

He used his hands to shape a box in the air in front of him. He delineated a square that was maybe two feet by two feet. It would be difficult to fit a body into such a space.

“I really gotta go now,” Pascal said. “I have a wax at five. I’ve got work tomorrow.”

“Just a few more questions,” Ballard said. “You’ve been very helpful. Do you know what happened to the van you and Mr. Gayley used?”

“No, but I doubt it’s around anymore. It was a real piece of shit back then. What else?”

“The films you made in the van with Mr. Gayley, do you have copies?”

Pascal laughed.

“Fuck, no. I wouldn’t keep that shit. But it’s all gotta be out there somewhere on the internet, right? Everything’s on the net.”

Ballard looked at Bosch to see if he had any questions. He gave a quick head shake.

“Can I go now?” Pascal said.

“Do you have a driver’s license?” Ballard asked.

“No, I don’t drive anymore. I Uber.”

“Where do you live, then?”

“Why do you need that?”

“In case we have follow-up questions.”

“You can call my agent. He’ll find me.”

“You’re not going to give me your home address?”

“Not if I don’t have to. I don’t want it in some police file somewhere, you know?”

“What about your cell-phone number?”

“Same answer.”

Ballard stared at him for a long moment. She knew there would be many ways to find Pascal later. She wasn’t worried about that. The moment was more about cooperation and what his refusal meant in terms of her suspicions about him. It was also the moment when she needed to make a decision. If she wanted to shift things and go at him hard with questions about Daisy Clayton and his possible involvement with her murder, then she would need to advise him of his rights to have an attorney present and to choose not to speak to the police. Considering the reluctance to talk that Pascal had already shown, such an advisement would most likely bring the interview to an abrupt end and put Pascal on notice that they considered him a suspect.

She decided it was too soon for that. She hoped Bosch was on the same page with her.