Part 42 (2/2)
”What about the other man? Did they find Vaughn?”
”Who's Vaughn?”
Bosch couldn't figure out what was happening, why there was a cover-up. He knew he should wait to hear from Irving but the anger was growing in his throat.
”Bosch? You there? What other man?”
”What are they saying about me?”
”You? They're not saying anything.”
”The other man's name is Jonathan Vaughn. He was there, too. Up at Mittel's last night.”
”How do you know?”
”I was there, too.”
”Bosch, you were there?”
Bosch closed his eyes but his mind couldn't penetrate the shroud being thrown over the case by the department. He didn't get it.
”Harry, we had a deal. Tell me the story.”
He noted that it was the only time she had ever used his first name. He continued to say nothing while he tried to figure out what was happening and weighed the consequences of talking to her.
”Bosch?”
Back to normal.
”All right. You got your pencil? I'm going to give you enough to get started. You'll have to go to Irving to get the rest.”
”I've been calling him. He won't even take my calls.”
”He will when he knows you have the story. He'll have to.”
By the time he was done telling her the story he was fatigued and his head was hurting again. He was ready to go to sleep, if it would have him. He wanted to forget everything and just sleep.
”That's an incredible story, Bosch,” she said when he was done. ”I'm sorry, you know, about your mother.”
”Thanks.”
”What about Pounds?”
”What about him?”
”Is it connected? Irving was honchoing that investigation. Now he's doing this one.”
”You'll have to ask him.”
”If I can get him on the line.”
”When you call over there, tell the adjutant to tell Irving you're calling on behalf of Marjorie Lowe. He'll call you back when he gets the message. I guarantee it.”
”Okay, Bosch, last thing. We didn't talk about this at the start like we should have. Can I use your name as a source?”
Bosch thought about it but only for a few moments.
”Yeah, you can use it. I don't know what my name's worth anymore but you can use it.”
”Thanks. I'll see you. You're a pal.”
”Yeah, I'm a pal.”
He hung up and closed his eyes. He dozed off but wasn't sure for how long. He was interrupted by the phone. It was Irving and he was angry.
”What did you do?”
”What do you mean?”
”I just got a message from a reporter. She says she's calling because of Marjorie Lowe. Have you talked to reporters about this?”
”I talked to one.”
”What did you tell her?”
”I told her enough so that you won't be able to let this one blow away.”
”Bosch...”
He didn't finish. There was a long silence and then Bosch spoke first.
”You were going to cover it all up, weren't you? Shove it in the trash with her. You see, after everything that's happened, she still doesn't count, does she?”
”You don't know what you're talking about.”
Bosch sat up. Now he was angry. Immediately, he was. .h.i.t with vertigo. He closed his eyes until it pa.s.sed.
”Well, then why don't you tell me what I don't know? Okay, Chief? You're the one who doesn't know what you're talking about. I heard what you people put out. That there may be no connection between Conklin and Mittel. What kind of-you think I'm going to sit here for that? And Vaughn. Not even a mention of him. A f.u.c.king mechanic in a splatter suit, he throws Conklin out the window and is ready to put me in the dirt. He's the one who did Pounds and he doesn't even rate a mention by you people. So, Chief, why don't you tell me what the f.u.c.k I don't know, okay?”
”Bosch, listen to me. Listen Listen to me. Who did Mittel work for?” to me. Who did Mittel work for?”
”I don't know and I don't care.”
”He was employed by very powerful people. Some of the most powerful in this state, some of the most powerful in the country. And-”
”I don't give a s.h.i.+t!”
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