Angels Flight Page 11

  As Bosch and Chastain moved through the offices the others stood silently and didn’t look at them. It was clear that they had heard the commotion in the lobby as they had taken the elevator up. Bosch didn’t care about that. He had already put the confrontation with Chastain behind him and was thinking about the search. He was hoping something would be found in the office that would give the investigation a focus, a specific path to follow. He walked through the three rooms making general observations. In the last room he noticed that through the windows behind Elias’s large polished wood desk he could see the huge face of Anthony Quinn. It was part of a mural depicting the actor with arms outstretched on the brick wall of a building across the street from the Bradbury.

  Rider came into the office behind him. She looked out the window, too.

  ‘You know every time I’m down here and see that I wonder who that is.’

  ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘César Chávez?’

  ‘Anthony Quinn. You know, the actor.’

  He got a nonresponse from her.

  ‘Before your time, I guess. The mural is called the Pope of Broadway, like he’s watching over all the homeless around here.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ She didn’t sound impressed. ‘How you want to do this?’

  Bosch was still staring at the mural. He liked it, even though he had a hard time seeing Anthony Quinn as a Christlike figure. But the mural seemed to capture something about the man, a raw masculine and emotional power. Bosch stepped closer to the window and looked down. He saw the forms of two homeless people sleeping beneath blankets of newspapers in the parking lot beneath the mural. Anthony Quinn’s arms were outstretched over them. Bosch nodded. The mural was one of the little things that made him like downtown so much. Just like the Bradbury and Angels Flight. Little pieces of grace were everywhere if you looked.

  He turned around. Chastain and Langwiser had entered the room behind Rider.

  ‘I’ll work in here. Kiz and Janis, you two take the file room.’

  ‘And what?’ Chastain said. ‘Me and Del get the secretary’s desk?’

  ‘Yeah. While you’re going through it, see if you can come up with her name and the name of the intern or clerk. We’ll need to talk to them today.’

  Chastain nodded but Bosch could see he was annoyed about getting the weakest assignment.

  ‘Tell you what,’ Bosch added, ‘why don’t you go out first and see if you can find some boxes. We’re going to be taking a lot of files out of here.’

  Chastain left the office without a word. Bosch glanced at Rider and saw her give him a look that told him he was acting like an asshole.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing. I’ll be in the file room.’

  She left then, leaving just Langwiser and Bosch.

  ‘Everything okay, Detective?’

  ‘Everything’s fine. I’m going to get to work now. Do what I can until we hear about your special master.’

  ‘Look, I’m sorry. But you called me out here to advise you and this is what I advise. I still think it is the right way to go.’

  ‘Well, we’ll see.’

  For most of the next hour Bosch methodically went through Elias’s desk, studying the man’s belongings, appointment calendar and paperwork. Most of his time was spent reading through a series of notebooks in which Elias had kept reminders to himself, lists of things to do, pencil drawings and general notes from phone calls. Each notebook was dated on the outside cover. It appeared that Elias filled the pages of one book every week or so with his voluminous notations and doodles. Nothing in the books jumped out at Bosch as being pertinent to the investigation. But he also knew that so little about the circumstances of Elias’s murder was known that something seeming unimportant in the notebooks at the moment might become important later.

  Before starting to page through the most recent notebook, Bosch was interrupted by another call from Edgar.

  ‘Harry, you said there was a message on the phone machine?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘There ain’t now.’

  Bosch leaned back in Elias’s chair and closed his eyes.

  ‘Goddammit.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s been cleared. I dicked around with it and it’s not a tape. Messages are stored on a microchip. The chip was cleared.’

  ‘Okay,’ Bosch replied, angrily. ‘Continue the search. When you’re done, talk to the security people about who’s been in and out of that place. See if they’ve got any video points in the lobby or parking garage. Somebody went in there after I left.’

  ‘What about Chastain? He was with you, wasn’t he?’

  ‘I’m not worried about Chastain.’

  He flipped the phone closed and got up and went to the window. He hated the feeling growing inside — that he was being worked by the case, rather than the other way around.

  He blew out his breath and went back to the desk and the last notebook that Howard Elias had kept. As he paged through, he came across repeated notes regarding someone referred to as ‘Parker.’ Bosch did not believe this to be a person’s real name, but rather a code name for a person inside Parker Center. The notations were mostly lists of questions Elias apparently intended to ask ‘Parker,’ as well as what looked like notes on conversations with this person. They were mostly in abbreviated form or the lawyer’s own version of shorthand and therefore difficult to decipher. But in other instances the notes were clear to Bosch. One notation clearly indicated to Bosch that Elias had a deeply connected source inside Parker Center.

  Parker:

  Get all 5Is — unsustained

  1. Sheehan

  2. Coblenz

  3. Rooker

  4. Stanwick

  Bosch recognized the names as belonging to four RHD detectives who were among the defendants in the Black Warrior case. Elias wanted the 5I reports — or citizen complaint files — on the four detectives. More specifically, Elias wanted the unsustained files, meaning he was interested in complaints against the four that had been investigated by the IAD but not substantiated. Such unsustained complaints were removed from officers’ personnel files as a matter of department policy and were therefore out of reach of a subpoena from a lawyer like Elias. The notation in the notebook told Bosch that Elias somehow knew that there were unsubstantiated prior complaints against the four and that he had a source in Parker Center who had access to the old files on those complaints. The first assumption was not a major leap; all cops had unsubstantiated complaints. It was part of being a cop. But someone with access to that sort of file was different. If Elias had such a source, it was a well-placed source.

  One of the last references to Parker in the notebook appeared to be notes of a conversation, which Bosch assumed to have been a phone call to Elias at his desk. It appeared that Elias was losing his source.

  Parker won’t

  jeopardy/exposure

  force the issue?

  Parker won’t what? Bosch wondered. Turn over the files Elias wanted? Did Parker believe that getting the files to Elias would expose him as a source? There wasn’t enough there for him to make a conclusion. There wasn’t enough for him to understand what ‘force the issue’ meant either. He wasn’t sure what any of the notes might have to do with the killing of Howard Elias. Nevertheless, Bosch was intrigued. One of the department’s most vocal and successful critics had a mole inside Parker Center. There was a traitor inside the gate and it was important to know this.

  Bosch put the last notebook into his briefcase and wondered if the discoveries he had made through the notes, particularly about Elias’s source inside the department, now placed him in the area Janis Langwiser feared might be an infringement of attorney-client privilege. After mulling it over for a few moments he decided not to go out into the file room and ask her for an interpretation. He moved on with the search.

  Bosch turned the chair to a side desk that had a personal computer and laser printer set up on it. The machines were off. There were two small d
rawers in this desk. The top contained the computer keyboard while the bottom contained office supplies with a single manila file on top. Bosch took out the file and opened it. It contained a color printout of a photo of a partially nude woman. The printout had two crease marks indicating it had been folded at one time. The photo itself did not have the technical quality of those in skin magazines found on the newstand. There was an amateurish, badly lit quality to it. The woman in the picture was white and had short, white-blonde hair. She wore thigh-high leather boots with three-inch heels and a G-string, nothing else. She stood with her rear to the camera, one foot up on a chair, her face turned mostly away. There was a tattoo of a ribbon and bow at the center of the small of her back. Bosch also saw at the bottom of the picture a notation that had been printed by hand.

  http://www.girlawhirl.com/gina

  Bosch knew little about computers but he knew enough to understand he was looking at an Internet address.

  ‘Kiz?’ he called.

  Rider was the resident computer expert on his team. Before coming to Hollywood Homicide she had worked a fraud unit in Pacific Division. A lot of the work she had done was on computers. She walked in from the file room and he waved her over to the desk.

  ‘How is it going out there?’

  ‘Well, we’re just stacking files. She won’t let me look through anything until we hear from the special master. I hope Chastain brings back a lot of boxes because we have a — what is that?’

  She was looking at the open file and the printout of the blonde woman.

  ‘It was in the drawer. Take a look. It’s got an address on it.’

  Rider came around the desk and looked down at the printout.

  ‘It’s a web page.’

  ‘Right. So how do we get to it and take a look?’

  ‘Let me get in there.’

  Bosch got up and Rider sat in front of the computer. Bosch stood behind the chair and watched as she turned the computer on and waited for it to boot up.

  ‘Let’s see what Internet provider he’s got,’ she said. ‘Did you see any letterhead around?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Letterhead. Stationery. Sometimes people put their E-mail address on it. If we know Elias’s E-mail address we’re halfway there.’

  Bosch understood now. He hadn’t seen any letterhead during his search.

  ‘Hold on.’

  He went out to the reception room and asked Chastain, who was sitting behind the secretary’s desk, if he’d seen any stationery. Chastain opened a drawer and pointed to an open box of letterhead stationery. Bosch grabbed a page off the top. Rider had been correct. Elias’s E-mail address was printed beneath his postal address on the top center of the page.

  Helias@lawyerlink.net

  Bosch took the page with him back to Elias’s office. When he got there he saw Rider had closed the file that contained the printout of the blonde woman. Bosch realized it must have been embarrassing to her.

  ‘I got it,’ he said.

  She looked at the page Bosch placed on the desk next to the computer.

  ‘Good. That’s the user name. Now we just need his password. He’s got the whole computer password protected.’

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘Well,’ she said as she began typing, ‘most people choose something pretty easy — so even they won’t forget.’

  She stopped typing and watched the screen. The cursor had turned into an hourglass as it worked. A message then printed across the screen informing Rider she had used an improper password.

  ‘What did you use?’ Bosch asked.

  ‘His DOB. You did next of kin, right? What was his wife’s name?’

  ‘Millie.’

  Rider typed it in and after a few seconds got the same rejection message.

  ‘What about his son?’ Bosch asked. ‘His name was Martin.’

  Rider didn’t type anything.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘A lot of these password gates give you three strikes. If you don’t get in on the third one they go into automatic lockdown.’

  ‘Forever?’

  ‘No. For however long Elias would have set it at. Could be fifteen minutes or an hour or even longer. Let’s think about this for a — ’

  ‘V-S-L-A-P-D.’

  Rider and Bosch turned. Chastain was in the doorway.

  ‘What?’ Bosch asked.

  ‘That’s the password. V-S-L-A-P-D. As in Elias versus the LAPD.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘The secretary wrote it down on the underside of her blotter. Guess she’s got to use the computer, too.’

  Bosch studied Chastain for a moment.

  ‘Harry?’ Rider said. ‘Should I?’

  ‘Give it a shot,’ Bosch said, still looking at Chastain.

  He then turned and watched as his partner typed in the password. The hourglass blinked on and then the screen changed and icon symbols began appearing on a field of blue sky and white clouds.

  ‘We’re in,’ Rider said.

  Bosch glanced back at Chastain.

  ‘Good one.’

  He then looked back at the screen and watched as Rider hit keys and maneuvered through the icons, files and programs, all of it meaning little to Bosch and reminding him that he was an anachronism.

  ‘You really ought to learn this stuff, Harry,’ Rider said, seeming to know his thoughts. ‘It’s easier than it looks.’

  ‘Why should I when I’ve got you? What are you doing anyway?’

  ‘Just having a look around. We’ll have to talk to Janis about this. There are a lot of file names corresponding with cases. I don’t know if we should open them before — ’

  ‘Don’t worry about it for now,’ Bosch interjected. ‘Can you get on the Internet?’

  Rider made a few more moves with the mouse and then typed the user name and password into blanks on the screen.

  ‘I’m running lawyerlink,’ she said. ‘Hopefully the same passwords work and we’ll be able to go to that naked lady’s web page.’

  ‘What naked lady?’ Chastain said.

  Bosch picked the file off the desk and handed it unopened to Chastain. He opened it, glanced at the photo and smirked.

  Bosch looked back at the screen. Rider was on lawyerlink, using Elias’s user name.

  ‘What’s that address?’

  Chastain read it off to her as she typed. She then hit the enter key and they waited.

  ‘What this is is a singular web page address within a larger web site,’ she said. ‘What we’ll get here is the Gina page.’

  ‘You mean that’s her name? Gina?’

  ‘Looks like it.’

  As she said this the photo from the printout appeared on the screen. Beneath it was information on what the woman in the photo provided and how to contact her.

  I am Mistress Regina. I am a lifestyle dominatrix providing elaborate bondage, humiliation, forced feminization, slave training and golden blessings. Other torments available upon request. Call me now.

  Below the block of information there was a phone number, a pager number and an E-mail address. Bosch wrote these down in a notebook he took from his pocket. He then looked back at the screen and saw there was also a blue button with the letter A on it. He was about to ask Rider what the button meant when Chastain made a disdainful sound with his mouth. Bosch turned and looked at him and the Internal Affairs man shook his head.

  ‘The bastard was probably getting his rocks off on his knees with this broad,’ Chastain said. ‘I wonder if Reverend Tuggins and his pals down at the SCCA knew about that.’

  He was referring to an organization called the South Central Churches Association, a group which Tuggins headed and which always seemed to be at Elias’s beck and call when he needed to show the media an image of South Central outrage in regard to alleged police misconduct.

  ‘We don’t know that he ever even met the woman yet, Chastain,’ Bosch said.

  ‘Oh, he met her. Why else did he have this
laying around? I tell you, Bosch, if Elias was into rough trade like that, there’s no telling where that could’ve led. It’s a righteous avenue of investigation and you know it.’

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll be checking everything out.’

  ‘You’re damn right we will.’

  ‘Uh,’ Rider said, interrupting. ‘There’s an audio button.’

  Bosch looked at the screen. Rider had the arrow poised over the blue button.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

  ‘I think we can actually hear Mistress Regina.’

  She clicked the arrow on the button. The computer then downloaded an audio program and started playing it. A dark and heavy voice came from the computer’s speaker.

  ‘This is Mistress Regina. If you come to me I will find the secret of your soul. Together, we will reveal the true subservience through which you will know your rightful identity and attain the release you can find nowhere else. I will mold you into my own. I will own you. I am waiting. Call me now.’

  They were all silent for a long moment. Bosch looked at Chastain.

  ‘Does it sound like her?’

  ‘Like who?’

  ‘The woman on tape at the apartment.’

  Chastain suddenly realized the possibility and was silent as he thought about this.

  ‘What tape?’ Rider asked.

  ‘Can you play it again?’ Bosch asked.

  Rider clicked the audio button again and asked about the tape once more. Bosch waited until the replay was over.

  ‘A woman left a message on the phone at Elias’s apartment. It wasn’t his wife. But I don’t think it was this voice either.’

  He looked at Chastain once more.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Chastain said. ‘Could be. We’ll be able to do a comparison in the lab if we need to.’

  Bosch hesitated, studying Chastain for any indication that he knew the phone message had been erased. He saw nothing.

  ‘What?’ Chastain said, uneasy under Bosch’s stare.

  ‘Nothing,’ Bosch said.