of this interview?”
Bosch’s pager went off and he reached down and silenced it without taking his eyes off Kate Kincaid.
“Yes.”
“Well, when was this confrontation?”
“Last night.”
“Last night?”
Bosch was shocked. He had jumped to the conclusion that the confrontation she had mentioned had been weeks or even months earlier.
“Yes. After you left. I knew by the questions you asked that you had probably found my notes to Howard Elias. I knew you would find Charlotte’s Web. It was a matter of time.”
Bosch looked down at his pager. The number belonged to Lindell’s cell phone. The emergency code 911 was printed on the little screen after it. He looked back up at Kate Kincaid.
“So I finally summoned the courage I didn’t have for all those months and years. I confronted him. And he told me. And he laughed at me. He asked me why I cared now since I didn’t care while Stacey was alive.”
Now Bosch’s cell phone began to ring inside his briefcase. Kate Kincaid slowly stood up.
“I’ll let you take that in private.”
As he reached to his briefcase, he watched her pick her purse up and walk across the room in the direction of the hallway to her dead daughter’s bedroom. Bosch fumbled with the briefcase’s release but eventually got it open and got to the phone. It was Lindell.
“I’m at the house,” the FBI agent said, his voice tight with adrenaline and excitement. “Kincaid and Richter are here. It’s not very pretty.”
“Tell me.”
“They’re dead. And it doesn’t look like it was an easy ride for them. They were knee-capped, both of them shot in the balls… You still with the wife?”
Bosch looked in the direction of the hallway.
“Yes.”
Just as he said it he heard a single popping sound from down the hallway. He knew what it was.
“Better bring her over here,” Lindell said.
“Right.”
Bosch closed the phone and placed it back in the briefcase, his eyes still on the hallway.
“Mrs. Kincaid?”
There was no answer. All he heard was the rain.
Chapter 32
BY the time Bosch cleared the scene in Brentwood and got up the hill to The Summit it was almost two o’clock. Driving through the rain on the way he could think only of Kate Kincaid’s face. He had gotten to Stacey’s room less than ten seconds after hearing the shot, but she was already gone. She had used a twenty-two and placed the muzzle in her mouth, firing the bullet up into her brain. Death was instant. The kick of the gun had knocked it out of her mouth and onto the floor. There was no exit wound, often the case with a twenty-two. She simply appeared as though she was sleeping. She had wrapped herself in the pink blanket that had been used by her daughter. Kate Kincaid looked as though she was serene in death. No mortician would be able to improve on that.
There were several cars and vans parked in front of the Kincaid residence. Bosch had to park so far away that his raincoat was soaked through by the time he got to the door. Lindell was there waiting for him.
“Well, this certainly’s turned all to shit,” the FBI agent said by way of greeting.
“Yeah.”
“Should we have seen it coming?”
“I don’t know. You never can tell what people are going to do.”
“How’d you leave it over there?”
“The coroner and SID are still there. A couple RHD bulls – they’re handling it.”
Lindell nodded.
“I saw what I needed to see. Show me what you have here.”
They went into the house and Lindell led the way to the huge living room where Bosch had sat with the Kincaids the afternoon before. He saw the bodies. Sam Kincaid was in the same spot on the couch where Bosch had last seen him. D.C. Richter was on the floor below the window that looked out across the Valley. There was no jetliner view now. It was just gray. Richter’s body was in a pool of blood. Kincaid’s blood had seeped into the material covering the couch. There were several technicians working in the room and lights were set up. Bosch saw that numbered plastic markers had been put in place where.22-caliber shells had been located on the floor and other furniture.
“You have the twenty-two over in Brentwood, right?”
“Yeah, that’s what she used.”
“You didn’t think about searching her before you started talking, huh?”
Bosch looked at the FBI agent and shook his head slightly in annoyance.
“Are you kidding me? It was a voluntary Q amp;A, man. Maybe you’ve never done one over there at the bureau, but rule number one is you don’t make the subject feel like a suspect before you even start. I didn’t search and it would have been a mistake if – ”
“I know, I know. Sorry I asked. It’s just that…”
He didn’t finish but Bosch knew what he was getting at. He decided to change the subject.
“The old man show up?”
“Jack Kincaid? No, we sent people to him. I hear he is not taking it well. He’s calling every politician he ever gave money to. I guess he thinks maybe the city council or the mayor will be able to bring his son back.”
“He knew what his son was. Probably knew all the time. That’s why he’s making the calls. He doesn’t want that to come out.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that. We’ve already found digital video cameras and editing equipment. We’ll tie him to Charlotte’s Web. I feel confident of that.”
“It won’t matter. Where’s Chief Irving?”
“On the way.”
Bosch nodded. He stepped close to the couch and bent over, his hands on his knees, to look closely at the dead car czar. His eyes were open and his jaw was set in a final grimace. Lindell had been right when he’d said it had not been an easy ride down. He thought of Kincaid’s expression in comparison to his wife’s death look. There was no comparison.
“How do you think it went down?” he asked. “How’d she get the two of them?”
He continued to stare at the body while Lindell spoke.
“Well, you shoot a man in the balls and he’s going to be pretty docile. From the blood on them, I’d say that was where they got it first. Once she got past that point, I think she had pretty good control of the situation.”
Bosch nodded.
“Richter wasn’t armed?”
“Nope.”
“Anybody find a nine-millimeter around here yet?”
“No, not yet.”
Lindell gave Bosch another we fucked up look.
“We need that nine,” Bosch said. “Mrs. Kincaid got them to admit what they did with the girl but they didn’t say anything about Elias. We need to find that nine to tie them in and end this thing.”
“Well, we’re looking. If anybody finds the nine, we’ll be the first to know.”
“You have people on Richter’s home, office and car? I’m still putting my money on him being the shooter.”
“Yeah, we’re on it but don’t count on anything there.”
