Bosch heard the elevator open and Rider soon rounded the corner, carrying a file. She stopped dead when she saw the confrontation. She said nothing.
“No reports?” Bosch said to Irving. “Then you better hope he’s got a good memory. Good night, Chief.”
Bosch turned and started down the hall. Rider hurried to catch up to him. She looked back over her shoulder to make sure Irving was not following. After they turned in through the double doors to RHD, she spoke.
“Are we in trouble, Harry? Is he going to turn this against the man up on six?”
Bosch looked at her. The mix of dread and fear on her face told him how important his answer was going to be.
“Not if I can help it,” he told her.
34
WILLIAM BURKHART and Belinda Messier were being held in separate interview rooms. Bosch and Rider decided to take Messier first so that Burkhart would have to sit and wait and wonder. It would also give them time to let Marcia and Jackson get the warrant and get into the house on Mariano. What they found might be helpful during the interview with Burkhart.
Belinda Messier had come up in the investigation before. The number on the cell phone Mackey carried around was registered to her. In the briefing Kehoe and Bradshaw had given Bosch and Rider upon their arrival she was described as Burkhart’s girlfriend. She had volunteered as much when the RHD detectives had taken both of them into custody. She told them little else after that.
Belinda Messier was a petite woman with mousy blonde hair that framed her face. Her look belied the hard case she turned out to be. She asked to see an attorney the moment Rider and Bosch entered the room.
“Why do you want to see an attorney?” Bosch asked. “Do you think you are under arrest?”
“Are you telling me I can leave?”
She stood up.
“Sit down,” Bosch said. “Roland Mackey was killed tonight and you could be in danger, too. You’re in protective custody. That means you’re not getting out of here until we get some things straight.”
“I don’t know anything about it. I was with Billy all night until you people showed up.”
Over the next forty-five minutes Messier gave up information only grudgingly. She explained that she knew Mackey through Burkhart and that she agreed to apply for cell phone service and turn the phone over to Mackey because he didn’t have a viable credit report. She told the detectives that Burkhart did not work and lived off a damages award he had received after a car accident two years before. He bought the house on Mariano Street with the payout and charged Mackey rent. Messier said she didn’t live in the house but spent many nights there visiting Burkhart. When asked about Burkhart and Mackey’s past ties to white power groups, she feigned surprise. When asked about the tiny swastika tattooed on the webbing between her right thumb and forefinger, she said she thought it was a Navajo good luck symbol.
“Do you know who killed Roland Mackey?” Bosch asked after the long preamble of questions.
“No,” she said. “He was a real nice guy. That’s all I know.”
“What did your boyfriend say after Mackey called him?”
“Nothin’. He just told me he was going to stay up and talk to Ro about something when he came home. He said they might go out for some privacy.”
“That’s all?”
“Yeah, that’s what he said.”
They went at her several times and from several different angles, with Bosch and Rider trading the lead back and forth, but the interview produced nothing of real value to the investigation.
Burkhart was next, but before going into the interview Bosch called Marcia and Jackson for an update.
“You guys in the house yet?” Bosch asked Marcia.
“Yeah, we’re in. We haven’t found anything yet.”
“What about a cell phone?”
“No cell phone so far. Do you think Burkhart could have slipped out on Kehoe and Bradshaw?”
“Anything’s possible but I doubt it. They weren’t sleeping.”
They were silent a moment as they thought about things and then Marcia spoke.
“How long was it between the time Mackey got it and you called Kehoe and Bradshaw and told them to take Burkhart in?”
Bosch reviewed his actions on the freeway before answering.
“It was pretty quick,” he finally said. “Ten minutes max.”
“Then there you go,” Marcia said. “Getting from the one eighteen in Porter Ranch all the way to Mariano Street in Woodland Hills in ten minutes max? And without being seen by our guys? No way. It wasn’t him. Kehoe and Bradshaw are his alibi.”
“And no cell phone in the house…”
They all already knew that the landline in the house was not used to make a call because it would have registered on the monitoring equipment at ListenTech.
“Nope,” Marcia said. “No cell phone and no call on the landline. I don’t think this is our guy.”
Bosch wasn’t ready to agree yet. He thanked him and hung up, then gave the bad news to Rider.
“So what do we do with him?” she asked.
“Well, he might not be our guy on Mackey, but Mackey called him after the story was read to him. I still like him for Verloren.”
“But that doesn’t make sense. Whoever hit Mackey had to have been his partner on Verloren-unless you’re saying what happened on the on-ramp is just coincidental to all of this.”
Bosch shook his head.
“No, I’m not saying that. We’re just missing something. Burkhart had to have gotten a message out of that house.”
“You mean like dial-a-hitman or something? It’s not working for me, Harry.”
Now Bosch nodded. He knew she was right. It wasn’t coming together.
“All right, then let’s just go in there and see what he has to say for himself.”
Rider agreed and they spent a few minutes working out an interview strategy before going back into the hallway behind the squad room and entering the interview room where Burkhart waited.
The room was stuffy with Burkhart’s body odor and Bosch left the door open. Burkhart had his head down on his folded arms. When he didn’t rouse from his feigned sleep Bosch kicked the leg of his chair and that brought his head up.
“Rise and shine, Billy Blitzkrieg,” Bosch said.
Burkhart had scraggly dark hair that flopped around a face of pasty white skin. He looked like he didn’t go out much except at night.
“I want a lawyer,” Burkhart said.
“We all do. But let’s start with first things first. My name is Bosch and this is Rider. You are William Burkhart and you are under arrest for suspicion of murder.”
Rider started to read him his rights but he cut her off.
“Are you crazy? I never left my house. My girlfriend was there the whole time.”
Bosch held a finger to his lips.
“Let her finish, Billy, and then you can lie to us as much as you like.”
Rider finished reading the rights off the back of one of her business cards. Then Bosch took back over.
“Now, you were saying?”
“I’m saying you are fucked. I was home the whole time and I have a witness who can prove it. Besides, Ro was my friend. Why would I kill him? This is just a fucking joke, so why don’t you go ahead and get me my lawyer now so he can laugh your asses out of here.”
“You finished, Bill? ’Cause I have some news for you. We’re not talking about Roland Mackey. We’re taking you back seventeen years to Rebecca Verloren. You remember her? You and Mackey? The girl you took up into the hills?
