Vol Ii Part 92 (1/2)

”No. No boots. We got better than boots.”

”Show me.”

Edgar lifted the lid off the box. Off the top he took out a manila envelope. He then tilted the box so that Bosch could look in. Bosch whistled.

”Merry Christmas,” Edgar said.

”You count it?” Bosch asked, his eyes still on the stacks of currency with rubber bands around them.

”Each bundle has a number on it,” Rider said. ”You add them all up, it equals four hundred eighty thousand. It looks like it's everything.”

”Not a bad present, eh Harry?” Edgar said excitedly.

”No. Where was it?”

”Attic crawl s.p.a.ce,” Edgar said. ”One of the last places we looked. Box was just sitting there in front of me as soon as I stuck my head up.”

Bosch nodded.

”Okay, what else?”

”Found these under his mattress.”

From the envelope Edgar withdrew a stack of photos. They were six by four in size and each had the date of the photograph digitally printed on the bottom left corner. Bosch put them on the table in front of them and looked through them, carefully picking them up by the corners. He hoped Edgar had handled them the same way.

The first photo was of Tony Aliso getting into a car at the valet stand in front of the Mirage. The next was of him walking to the door of Dolly's. Following that was a series of shots of him outside Dolly's talking to the man Aliso knew as Luke Goshen. It was dark outside in these shots and they were taken from a distance, but the neon-glutted entrance of the club was lit as brightly as daylight and Aliso and Goshen were easily recognizable.

Then there were photos from the same location but the date at the bottom corner had changed. They showed a young woman leaving the club and walking to Aliso's car. Bosch recognized her. It was Layla. There were also pictures of Tony and Layla poolside at the Mirage. The last shot was of Tony leaning his deeply tanned body over Layla's lounge chair and kissing her on the mouth.

Bosch looked up at Edgar and Rider. Edgar was smiling again. Rider wasn't.

”Just like we thought,” Edgar said. ”He cased this guy over there in Vegas. That shows he had the knowledge to set this whole thing up. Him and the widow. We got 'em, Harry. This shows premeditation, lying in wait, the works. We got 'em both, nine ways to Sunday.”

”Maybe.” He looked at Rider. ”What's up with you, Kiz?”

She shook her head.

”I don't know. It just seems too easy. The place was very clean. No old boots, no sign that Veronica ever even set foot in that place. Then we find these so easy. It was like we were supposed to find it all. I mean, why would he take the time to get rid of the boots but leave the photos under the mattress? I can see him wanting to hang on to the money, but putting it in the attic seems pretty lame.”

She moved her hand toward the photos and the cash in a dismissive gesture. Bosch nodded his agreement and leaned back in his chair.

”I think you're right,” he said. ”He's not that stupid.”

He thought about the similarity to the gun being planted on Goshen. That, too, turned out to be too easy.

”I think it's a setup,” Bosch said. ”Veronica did this. He took the photos for her. He probably told her to destroy them, but she didn't. She hung on to them just in case. She probably snuck them back in under his bed and put the cash up in the attic. Was it easy to get to?”

”Easy enough,” Rider said. ”Fold-down ladder.”

”Wait a minute, why would she set him up?” Edgar asked.

”Not from the start,” Bosch said. ”It was like a fallback position. If things started to go wrong, if we got too close, she had Powers out there ready to take the fall. Maybe when she sent Powers after the suitcase she went to his place with the photos and the cash. Who knows when it started? But I bet when I tell Powers we found this stuff in his house, his eyes are going to pop. Whaddaya got in the bag, Kiz, the camera?”

She nodded and put the bag on the table without opening it.

”Nikon with a telephoto on it, credit card receipt for his purchase of it.”

Bosch nodded and his thoughts strayed a bit. He was trying to think about how he was going to work the photos and money with Powers. It was their shot at breaking him. It had to be played right.

”Hold on, hold on,” Edgar said, a look of confusion on his face. ”I still don't get this. What makes you say it was a setup? Maybe he was holding the cash and the photos and they were going to split it all after the heat died down. Why does it have to be that she set him up?”

Bosch looked at Rider and then back at Edgar.

”'Cause Kiz is right. It's too easy.”

”Not if he thought we didn't have a clue, if he thought he was clear right up to the moment we jumped out of the bushes up there in the woods.”

Bosch shook his head.

”I don't know. I don't think he would have played it the way he did when I was just talking to him. Not if he knew he had this stuff back at his place. I go with it being a setup. She's putting it all on him. We pull her in and she'll feed us some story about the guy being obsessed with her. Maybe, if she's any kind of actress, she tells us, yes, she had an affair with him but then she broke it off. But he wouldn't go away. He killed her old man so he could have her all to himself.”

Bosch leaned back and looked at them, waiting for their response.

”I think it's good,” Rider said. ”It could work.”

”Except we don't believe it,” Bosch said.

”So what's she get out of this?” Edgar asked, refusing to drop his disagreement. ”She's givin' up the money puttin' it in his pad. What's that leave her?”

”The house, the cars, insurance,” Bosch said. ”Whatever's left of the company-and the chance to get away.”

But it was a weak answer and he knew it. A half million dollars was a lot of cash to use to set somebody up. It was the one flaw in the theory he had just spun.

”She got rid of her husband,” Rider said. ”Maybe that was all that was important to her.”

”He'd been s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around on her for years,” Edgar said. ”Why now? What was different this time?”

”I don't know,” Rider said. ”But there was something different or something else we don't know about. That's what we have to find out.”

”Yeah, well, good luck,” Edgar said.

”I've got an idea,” Bosch said. ”If anyone knows what that something else is, it's Powers. I want to try to scam him and I think I know how. Kiz, you still got that tape, the one with Veronica in it?

”Casualty of Desire? Yeah. It's in my drawer.” Yeah. It's in my drawer.”

”Go get it and set it up in the lieutenant's office. I'm going to grab some more coffee and I'll meet you there.”

Bosch stepped into interview room three with the box of cash turned so that the side that said Xmas Xmas on it was held against his chest. He hoped it looked like any common cardboard box. He watched Powers for a sign of recognition and got none. Powers was sitting just as Bosch had left him. Ramrod straight, his arms behind him as if by choice. He looked at Bosch with deadpan eyes that were ready and waiting for the next go-round. Bosch put the box on the floor where it would be s.h.i.+elded from view, pulled out the chair and sat across from him again. He then reached down, opened the box and took out a tape recorder and a file folder. He put them on the table in plain sight. on it was held against his chest. He hoped it looked like any common cardboard box. He watched Powers for a sign of recognition and got none. Powers was sitting just as Bosch had left him. Ramrod straight, his arms behind him as if by choice. He looked at Bosch with deadpan eyes that were ready and waiting for the next go-round. Bosch put the box on the floor where it would be s.h.i.+elded from view, pulled out the chair and sat across from him again. He then reached down, opened the box and took out a tape recorder and a file folder. He put them on the table in plain sight.

”I told you, Bosch, no taping. If you got the camera on the other side of the gla.s.s going, then you're ripping off my rights, too.”