Echo Park Part 11

"You mean where you see the oil pumps when you're coming in on La Cienega from the airport?"

"Yeah, right. That's the place. Well, this kid's family owned a chunk of those fields, and his old man was trying to straighten him out, I guess. You know, make him work for a living even though they had all the money in the world. So he was working security up there and I was watching him one day. He came across these kids who were fooling around up in there, just trespa.s.sing and messing around. They were just kids, maybe thirteen or fourteen. Two boys from the nearby neighborhood."

"What did he do to them?"

"He drew down on them, then handcuffed them to one of the pumps. Their backs were to each other and they were cuffed around this pole that was sort of like an anchor for the pump. And then he got back in his pickup and drove away."

"He just left them there?"

"That's what I thought he was doing but he was coming back. I was watching with binoculars from a ridge all the way across La Cienega and could see the whole oil field from up there. He had another guy with him and they drove over to this shack where I guess they kept samples of the oil they were pumping out of the ground. They went in there and came out with two buckets of this stuff, put 'em in the back of the pickup and drove back. They then dumped that s.h.i.+t all over the two kids."

Rachel got up on one elbow and looked at him.

"And you just watched this happen?"

"I told you, I was clear across La Cienega on the next ridge. Before they built houses up there. If he went any further I was going to try to intervene somehow, but then he let them go. Besides, I didn't want him to know I was watching him. At that point he didn't know I was thinking of him for Gesto."

She nodded like she understood and no longer questioned his lack of action.

"He just let them go?" she asked.

"He uncuffed them, kicked one of them in the b.u.t.t and let them go. I could tell they were crying and scared."

Rachel shook her head in disgust.

"What's this guy's name?"

"Anthony Garland. His father is Thomas Rex Garland. You might have heard of him."

Rachel shook her head, not recognizing the name.

"Well, Anthony might not have been Gesto's killer but he sounds like a complete a.s.shole."

Bosch nodded.

"He is. You want to see him?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've got a 'greatest hits' video. I've had him in an interview room three times in thirteen years. Each interview was on tape."

"You have the tape here?"

Bosch nodded, knowing that she might find it strange or off-putting that he studied interrogation tapes at home.

"I had them copied onto one tape. I brought it home to watch the last time I worked the case."

Rachel seemed to consider his answer before she responded.

"Then pop it in. Let's take a look at this guy."

Bosch got out of bed, slipped on his boxer shorts and turned on the lamp. He went out to the living room and looked in the cabinet beneath the television. He had several crime scene tapes from old cases, as well as various other tapes and DVDs. He finally located a VHS tape marked GARLAND GARLAND on the box and took it back to the bedroom. on the box and took it back to the bedroom.

He had a television with a built-in VCR on the bureau. He turned it on, slid in the tape and sat on the edge of the bed with the remote. He kept his boxers on now that he and Rachel were working. Rachel stayed under the covers and as the tape was cuing up she reached a foot toward him and tapped her toes on his back.

"Is this what you do with all the girls you bring here? Show them your interrogation techniques?"

Bosch glanced back at her and was almost serious with his response.

"Rachel, I think you're the only person in the world I could do this with."

She smiled.

"I think I get you, Bosch."

He looked back at the screen. The tape was playing. He hit the mute with the remote.

"This first one is March eleventh of 'ninety-four. It's about six months after Gesto disappeared and we were grasping for anything. We didn't have enough to arrest him-it wasn't even close-but I was able to convince him to come into the station to give a statement. He didn't know I had the bead on him. He thought he was just going to talk about the apartment where his ex-girlfriend had lived."

On the screen was a grainy color picture of a small room with a table at which two men sat. One was a much younger-looking Harry Bosch and the other was a man in his early twenties with wavy surfer-white hair. Anthony Garland. He was wearing a T-s.h.i.+rt that said Lakers Lakers across the chest. The sleeves were tight on his arms, and tattoo ink was visible on his left biceps. Black barbed wire wrapped the muscles of the arm. across the chest. The sleeves were tight on his arms, and tattoo ink was visible on his left biceps. Black barbed wire wrapped the muscles of the arm.

"He came in voluntarily. He came in looking like he was headed to a day at the beach. Anyway ..."

He brought up the sound. On the screen, Garland was looking all around the room with a slight smile on his face.

"So this is where it happens, huh?" he asked.

"Where what happens?" Bosch asked.

"You know, you break the bad guys down and they confess to all the crimes."

He smiled coyly.

"Sometimes," Bosch said. "But let's talk about Marie Gesto. Did you know her?"

"No, I told you I didn't know her. Never saw her before in my life."

"Before what?"

"Before you showed me her picture."

"So if somebody told me you knew her, then they'd be lying."

"f.u.c.king-A right. Who told you that s.h.i.+t?"

"But you knew about the empty garage at the High Tower, right?"

"Yeah, well, my girlfriend had just moved out and so, yeah, I knew the place was empty. That doesn't mean I stashed the car in there. Look, you asked me all of this stuff at the house. I thought there was something new going on here. Am I under arrest or something?"

"No, Anthony, you are not under arrest. I just wanted you to come down so we could go over some of this stuff."

"I've already gone over it with you."

"But that was before we knew some other things about you and about her. Now it's important to go over the same ground again. Make a formal record of it."

Garland's face seemed to momentarily contort in anger. He leaned across the table.

"What things? What the f.u.c.k are you talking about? I had nothing to do with this. I've told you that at least twice now. Why aren't you out there looking for the person who did it?"

Bosch waited until Garland calmed a bit before answering.

"Because maybe I think I'm with the person who did it."

"f.u.c.k you, man. You've got nothing on me because there's nothing to get. I've told you this from day one. I'm not the guy!"

Now Bosch leaned across the table. Their faces were a foot apart.

"I know what you told me, Anthony. But that was before I went to Austin and talked to your girlfriend. She told me some things about you that, frankly, Anthony, require me to pay a little more attention."

"f.u.c.k her. She's a wh.o.r.e!"

"Yeah? If she's all of that, then why'd you get angry with her when she left you? Why did she have to run from you? Why didn't you just let her go?"

"Because n.o.body leaves me. I leave them. Okay?"

Bosch leaned back and nodded.

"Okay. So in as much detail as you can remember, tell me what you did on September ninth of last year. Tell me where you went and who you saw."

Using the remote, Bosch started fast-forwarding the tape.

"He didn't have an alibi for the time we believed Marie was grabbed outside the supermarket. But we can skip ahead here because that part of the interview took forever."

Rachel was now sitting up in the bed behind him with the sheet wrapped around her. Bosch looked back at her.

"What do you think of this guy so far?"

She shrugged her bare shoulders.

"He seems like a typical rich a.s.shole. But that doesn't make him a murderer."

Bosch nodded.

"This now is two years later. The lawyers from his daddy's firm slapped a TRO on me and I could only interview the kid if he had counsel present. So there's nothing much here but there's one thing I want you to see. His lawyer in this is Dennis Franks, an a.s.sociate of Cecil Dobbs, a big-shot Century City guy who handles things for T. Rex."

"T. Rex?"

"The father. Thomas Rex Garland. Likes to be called T. Rex."

"Figures."

Bosch slowed the fast-forward down a notch so he could better see where the action on the tape was. On the screen was Garland sitting at a table with a man right next to him. As the image moved in fast motion the lawyer and his client conferred many times in mouth-to-ear communications. Bosch finally slowed it to normal speed and the audio came back up. It was Franks, the lawyer, doing the talking.

"My client has fully cooperated with you but you continue to hara.s.s him at work and home with these suspicions and questions that have not one ounce of evidentiary support."

"I'm working on that part of it, Counselor," Bosch said. "And when I get it, there won't be a lawyer in the world who can help him."

"f.u.c.k you, Bosch!" Garland said. "You better hope you never come for me alone, man. I'll put you down in the dirt."

Franks put a calming hand on Garland's arm. Bosch was silent for a few moments before responding.

"You want to threaten me now, Anthony? You think I'm like one of those teenagers you cuff out in the oil fields and dump crude on? You think I'm going to go away with my tail between my legs?"

Garland's face pinched together and turned dark. His eyes looked like frozen black marbles.

Bosch hit the pause b.u.t.ton on the VCR remote.

"There," he said to Rachel, pointing at the screen with the remote. "That's what I wanted you to see. Look at his face. Pure, perfect rage. That's why I thought it was him."

Walling didn't respond. Bosch glanced at her and she looked as though she had seen the face of pure, perfect rage before. She looked to be almost intimidated by it. Bosch wondered if she had seen it in one of the killers she had faced, or in someone else.

Bosch turned back to the television and hit the fast-forward b.u.t.ton again.

"Now we jump almost ten years, to when I brought him in last April. Franks was gone and a new guy had the case in Dobbs's office. He dropped the ball and never went back to the judge when the first restraining order expired. So I took another shot at him. He was surprised to see me. I grabbed him when he came out of Kate Mantilini's at lunch one day. He probably thought I was long gone from his life."

He stopped the fast-forward and played the tape. On the screen Garland looked older and wider. His face had spread and he wore his now-thinning hair cropped short. He wore a white s.h.i.+rt with a tie. The taped interviews had followed him from the end of boyhood to well into manhood.

This time he sat in a different interview room. This one was at Parker Center.

"If I'm not under arrest, then I should be free to go," he said. "Am I free to go?"

"I was hoping you'd answer a few questions first," Bosch replied.

"I answered all your questions years ago. This is a vendetta, Bosch. You will not give up. You will not leave me alone. Am I free to go or not?"

"Where did you hide her body?"

Garland shook his head.

"My G.o.d, this is unbelievable. When will this end?"

"It will never end, Garland. Not until I find her and not until I lock you up."

"This is f.u.c.king crazy! You're You're crazy, Bosch. What can I say to make you believe me? What can-" crazy, Bosch. What can I say to make you believe me? What can-"

"You can tell me where she is and then I'll believe you."

"Well, that's the one thing I can't tell you, because I don't-"