knew even he couldn’t stand up forever. Nobody can.
“You’ve got a problem, Lucky,” Iverson said. “Big problems. You-”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute. I don’t want to talk to you, Iverson. I don’t want you to talk to me. You’re a runt. I’ve got no respect for you. Understand? Anybody talks, let him talk.”
Goshen nodded to Bosch. There was a silence during which Bosch looked from him to Iverson and then back.
“Go get a cup,” Bosch said, without looking at Iverson. “We’ll be fine in here.”
“No, you-”
“Go get a cup.”
“You sure?”
Iverson looked as if he were being kicked out of the college fraternity because the boys didn’t think he fit in.
“Yeah, I’m sure. You got a rights form on you?”
Iverson got up. He took a folded piece of paper out of his coat pocket and tossed it on the table.
“I’ll be right outside the door.”
When Goshen and Bosch were alone they studied each other for a moment before Bosch spoke.
“You want a smoke?”
“Don’t play the good guy with me. Just tell me what’s what.”
Bosch shrugged off the rebuke and got up. He moved behind Goshen and took his keys out again. This time he unlocked one of the cuffs. Goshen brought his hands up and began rubbing the wrists to get circulation going. He noticed the length of hair on the table and slapped it onto the floor.
“Let me tell you something, Mr. L.A. I’ve been to a place where it doesn’t matter what they do to you, where nothing can hurt you. I’ve been there and back.”
“Everybody’s been to Disneyland, so what?”
“I’m not talking about fuckin’ Disneyland, asshole. I spent three years in the penta down in Chihuahua. They didn’t break me then, you aren’t going to do it now.”
“Let me tell you something then. In my life I’ve killed a lot of people. Just wanted you to know that up front. Time comes again, there won’t be any hesitation. None. This isn’t about good guy cops and bad guy cops, Goshen. That’s the movies. The movies where the bad guys have ponytails, I guess. But this is real life. You are nothing to me but meat. And I’m gonna put you down. That’s a given. It’s just up to you how hard and how far you want to go down.”
Goshen thought a moment.
“All right, so now we know each other. Talk to me. And I’ll take that smoke now.”
Bosch put his cigarettes and matches on the table. Goshen got one out and lit it. Bosch waited until he was done.
“I gotta advise you first. You know the routine.”
Bosch opened the piece of paper Iverson had left and read Goshen his rights. He then had the man sign his name on it.
“This is being taped, isn’t it?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay then, what’ve you got?”
“Your fingerprints were on Tony Aliso’s body. The gun we found behind the toilet will be going back to L.A. today. The prints are good to have, real good. But if the bullets they pick out of Tony’s gourd match that gun, then it’s all over. I don’t care what kind of alibi you line up or what your explanation will be or if your lawyer’s Johnny fucking Cochran, you won’t just be meat, you’ll be one hundred percent grade A dead meat.”
“That gun ain’t mine. It’s a plant, goddamn it. You know it and I know it. And it’s not going to fly, Bosch.”
Bosch looked at him a moment and felt his face getting hot.
“You’re saying I put that there?”
“I’m saying I watched the O.J. show. Cops out here are no different. I’m saying I don’t know if it was you or Iverson or whoever, but that gun’s a fuckin’ plant, goddammit. That’s what I’m saying.”
Bosch traced a finger along the top of the table, waiting for the anger to dissipate to the point where he could control his voice.
“You hang on to that bullshit story, Goshen, and you’ll go far with it. You’ll go about ten years and then they’ll strap you down and stick a needle in your arm. At least it’s not the gas chamber anymore. They make it easy on you guys now.”
Bosch leaned back but there wasn’t a lot of room. The back of the chair hit the wall. He took out the Chap Stick and reapplied it.
“We own you now, Goshen. All you have left is one small window of opportunity. Call it a little piece of destiny still in your grasp.”
“And what window’s that?”
“You know what window, you know what I’m talking about. Guy like you doesn’t move an inch without the okay. Give us the guy you worked the hit with and the guy who told you to put Tony in the trunk. You don’t make a deal and there’s no light at the end of the tunnel.”
Goshen let out his breath and shook his head.
“Look, I did not do this. I did not!”
Bosch didn’t expect him to say anything different. It wasn’t that easy. He had to wear him down. He leaned across the table conspiratorially.
“Listen, I’m going to tell you something so that you know that I’m not bullshitting you. Maybe save some time, so you can decide where to go from here.”
“Go ahead, but it’s not going to change anything.”
“Anthony Aliso was wearing a black leather jacket Friday night. Remember that? One with the two-inch lapels. It-”
“You’re wasting your-”
“You grabbed him there, Goshen. Just like this.”
Bosch reached across the table and demonstrated, using both hands to grab an imaginary set of lapels on a jacket Goshen wasn’t wearing.
“Remember that? Tell me I’m wasting my time now. Remember, Goshen? You did it, you grabbed him like that. Now who is bullshitting who?”
Goshen shook his head but Bosch knew he had scored. The pale blues were looking inward at the memory.
“Kind’ve a freaky thing. Processed leather like that holds the amino acids from the prints. That’s what the tech tells me. We got some nice ones. Enough to take to the DA or the grand jury. Enough for me to come out here. Enough for us to come right into your fucking house and hook you up.”
He hesitated a moment until Goshen was looking at him.
“And now this gun turns up in your house. I guess we’ll just have to wait on the ballistics if you don’t want to talk anymore. But I’ve got a hunch about it. I like my chances.”
Goshen slammed two open palms down on the steel table. It made a sound like a shot and echo.
“This is a setup. You people put-”
Iverson burst through the door, his gun out and aimed at Goshen. He jerked the weapon up like a TV cop.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” Bosch said. “Lucky here is just a little mad, is all. Give us a few more minutes.”
Iverson went back out without a word.
“Nice play, but that’s all it was,” Goshen said. “Where’s my phone call?”
Bosch leaned back across the table.
“You can make the call now. But you make the call and it’s over right here. Because that won’t be your lawyer. That will be Joey’s lawyer. He’ll be here to represent you, but we both know the one he’ll be watching out for is Joey Marks.”
Bosch stood up.
“I guess then we’ll just have to settle for you. We’ll go the distance on you.”
