9 Dragons
From across the aisle Harry Bosch looked into his partner's cubicle and watched him conduct his daily ritual of straightening the corners on his stacks of files, clearing the paperwork from the center of his desk and finally placing his rinsed-out coffee cup in a desk drawer. Bosch checked his watch and saw it was only three-forty. It seemed that each day, Ignacio Ferras began the ritual a minute or two earlier than he had the day before. It was only Tuesday, the day after Labor Day weekend and the start of a short week, and already he was edging toward the early exit. This routine was always prompted by a phone call from home. There was a wife waiting there with a toddler and a brand-new set of twins. She watched the clock like the owner of a candy store watches the fat kids. She needed the break and she needed her husband home to deliver it. Even across the aisle from his partner, and with the four-foot sound walls separating work spaces in the new squad room, Bosch could usually hear both sides of the call. It always began with "When are you coming home?"
Everything in final order at his workstation, Ferras looked over at Bosch.
"Harry, I'm going to take off," he said. "Beat some of the traffic. I have a lot of calls out but they have my cell. No need waiting around for that."
Ferras rubbed his left shoulder as he spoke. This was also part of the routine. It was his unspoken way of reminding Bosch that he had taken a bullet a couple years before and had earned the early exit.
Bosch just nodded. The issue wasn't really about whether his partner left the job early or what he had earned. It was about his commitment to the mission of homicide work and whether it would be there when they finally got the next call out. Ferras had gone through nine months of physical therapy and rehab before reporting back to the squad room. But in the year since, he had worked cases with a reluctance that was wearing thin for Bosch. He wasn't committed and Bosch was tired of waiting for him.
He was also tired of waiting for a fresh kill. It had been four weeks since they'd drawn a case and they were well into the late summer heat. As certain as the Santa Ana winds blowing down out of the mountain passes, Bosch knew a fresh kill was coming.
Ferras stood up and locked his desk. He was taking his jacket off the back of the chair when Bosch saw Larry Gandle step out of his office on the far side of the squad room and head toward them. As the senior man in the partnership, Bosch had been given the first choice of cubicles a month earlier when Robbery-Homicide Division started to move over from the decrepit Parker Center to the new Police Administration Building. Most detective 3s took the cubicles facing the windows that looked out on City Hall. Bosch had chosen the opposite. He had given his partner the view and took the cube that let him watch what was happening in the squad room. Now he saw the approaching lieutenant and he instinctively knew that his partner wasn't going home early.
Gandle was holding a piece of paper torn from a notepad and had an extra hop in his step. That told Bosch the wait was over. The call out was here. The fresh kill. Bosch started to rise.
"Bosch and Ferras, you're up," Gandle said when he got to them. "Need you to take a case for South Bureau."
Bosch saw his partner's shoulders slump. He ignored it and reached out for the paper Gandle was holding. He looked at the address written on it. South Normandie. He'd been there before.
"It's a liquor store," Gandle said. "One man down behind the counter, patrol is holding a witness. That's all I got. You two good to go?"
"We're good," Bosch said before his partner could complain.
But that didn't work.
"Lieutenant, this is Homicide Special," Ferras said, turning and pointing to the boar's head mounted over the squad room door.
"Royal Canadian Mounted Police? You get around, Chu. Nice work."
"Thanks."
"Did you tell this to Ignacio? Chang's attempt to smoke his trail will help with the PC for the search warrant."
"He knows. He put it in."
"Good."
Bosch looked at the monitor. Chang was sitting at a table with his wrists now handcuffed in front of him to an iron ring bolted through the center of the table. His massive shoulders looked ready to burst the seams of his shirt. He was sitting ramrod straight and staring dead-eyed at the wall directly across from him.
"Lieutenant, how long are you comfortable with us stalling this before we book him?"
Gandle looked concerned. He didn't like being put on the spot with something that could later hit him in the face with blowback.
"Well, I think we're stretching it. Chu told me you already gave him the scenic tour coming in. You wait too much longer and a judge might take issue with it."
Bosch looked at his watch. They needed another fifty minutes before allowing Chang to call his lawyer. The booking process involved paperwork, fingerprinting and then the physical transfer of the suspect to jail, at which point he would be given access to a phone.
"Okay, we can start the process. We just keep taking it slow. Chu, you go in and start filling out the sheet with him. If we're lucky he won't cooperate and that will just take up more time."
Chu nodded.
"Got it."
"We don't put him into a cell until two at the earliest."
"Right."
Chu squeezed between the lieutenant and Bosch and left the room. Gandle started out after him but Bosch tapped him on the shoulder and signaled him to stay. Bosch waited until the door was closed before speaking.
"I just got a phone call. A threat. Somebody told me to back off."
"Back off what?"
"The case. Chang. Back off everything."
"How do you know the call was even about this case"
"Because the caller was Asian and he mentioned Chang. Said Chang was not alone, that I needed to back off or there would be consequences."
"You try to trace it? You think it's serious?"
"A trace would be a waste of time. And as far as the threat goes, let them come. I'll be waiting. But the point is, how did they know?"
"Know what?"
"That we picked up Chang. We pull him in and then within two hours one of his asshole buddies from the triad calls up and tells me to back the fuck off. We've got a leak, Lieutenant. First Chang is tipped, now they know we grabbed him. Somebody's talking to -- "
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, we don't know that, Harry. There could be explanations."
"Yeah? Then how do they know we have Chang?"
"Could be a lot of reasons, Harry. He had a cell phone. Maybe he was supposed to check in from the airport. Could be anything."
Bosch shook his head. His instincts told him otherwise. There was a leak somewhere. Gandle opened the door. He didn't like this conversation and wanted to get out of the room. But he looked back at Bosch before leaving.
"You better be careful with this," he said. "Until you have something like this nailed down, you be very careful."
Gandle closed the door behind him, leaving Bosch alone in the room. Harry turned to the video screen and saw that Chu had entered the interview room. He sat down across from Chang with a pen and clipboard, ready to fill out the arrest form.
"Mr. Chang, I need to ask you some questions now."
Chang did not answer. He showed no recognition in his eyes or body language that he had even heard the question.
Chu followed this with a Chinese translation but again Chang remained mute and motionless. This was no surprise to Bosch. He left the interview room and went back out to the squad, still feeling anxious and upset about the phone-call threat and Gandle's seeming lack of concern about it or the leak that had to have spawned it.
"What do you mean, sweetheart?"
"When I was talking to Dr. Hinojos, she said I have to unburden. I have to tell what's bothering me."
Tears started to flow now. Bosch sat sideways on the lounge chair and took his daughter by the hand and guided her to a seat right next to him. He put his arm across her shoulders.
"You can tell me anything, Madeline."
She closed her eyes and held a hand over them. She squeezed his hand with the other.
"I got Mom killed," she said. "I got her killed and it should've been me."
"Wait a minute, wait a minute. You're not respons -- "
"No, wait, listen to me. Listen to me. Yes, I am. I did it, Dad, and I need to go to jail."
Bosch pulled her into a crushing hug and kissed the top of her head.
"You listen to me, Mads. You're not going anywhere. You're staying right here with me. I know what happened but it doesn't make you responsible for what other people did. I don't want you thinking that."
She pulled back and looked at him.
"You know? You know what I did?"
"I think you trusted the wrong person &hellip; and the rest, all the rest, is on him."
She shook her head
"No, no. The whole thing was my idea. I knew you would come and I thought maybe you'd make her let me go with you back here."
"I know."
"How do you know?" she demanded.
Bosch shrugged.
"It doesn't matter," he said. "What matters is that you couldn't have known what Quick would do, that he would take your plan and make it his."
She bowed her head.
"Doesn't matter. I killed my mother."
"Madeline, no. If anybody is responsible, it's me. She got killed in something that had nothing to do with you. It was a robbery and it happened because I was stupid, because I showed my money in a place I should never have shown it. Okay? It's on me, not you. I made the mistake."
She could not be calmed or consoled. She shook her head violently and the force threw tears into Bosch's face.
"You wouldn't have even been there, Dad, if we didn't send that video. I did that! I knew what it would do! That you would be on the very next plane! I was going to escape before you landed. You would get there and everything would be all right but you would tell Mom it wasn't safe for me there and you would take me back with you."
Bosch just nodded. He had put roughly the same scenario together a few days before, when he realized Bo-Jing Chang had nothing to do with the murder of John Li.
"But now Mom is dead! And they're dead! And everybody's dead and it's all my fault!"
Bosch grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her in toward him.
"How much of this did you tell Dr. Hinojos?"
"None."
"Okay."
"I wanted to tell you first. You have to take me to jail now."
Bosch pulled her into another hug and held her head against his chest.
"No, baby, you're staying here with me."
He gently caressed her hair and spoke calmly.
"We all make mistakes. Everybody. Sometimes, like with my partner, you make a mistake and you can't make up for it. You don't get the chance. But sometimes you do. We can make up for our mistakes here. Both of us."
Her tears had slowed. He heard her sniffle. He thought maybe this was why she had come to him. For a way out.