The Overlook

“How did you know this isn’t the Kent house?”

Walling rubbed her forehead as though she were tired of his annoying questions and had a headache.

“Because I have been to his house before. Okay? Early last year my partner and I came to Kent ’s house and briefed him and his wife on the potential dangers of his profession. We did a security check on their home and told them to take precautions. We had been asked to do it by the Department of Homeland Security. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. And was that routine for the Tactical Intelligence Unit and the Department of Homeland Security, or was that because there had been a threat to him?”

“Not a threat specifically aimed at him, no. Look, we’re wasting-”

“Then to who? A threat to who?”

Walling adjusted her position in the seat and let her breath out in exasperation.

“There wasn’t a threat to anyone specifically. We were simply taking precautions. Sixteen months ago someone entered a cancer clinic in Greensboro, North Carolina, circumvented elaborate security measures and removed twenty-two small tubes of a radioisotope called cesium one-thirty-seven. The legitimate medical use of this material in that setting was in the treatment of gynecological cancer. We don’t know who got in there or why, but the material was taken. When news of the theft went out on the wire somebody in the Joint Terrorism Task Force here in L.A. thought it would be a good idea to assess the security of these materials in local hospitals and to warn those who have access to and handle the stuff to take precautions and to be alert. Can we please go now?”

“And that was you.”

“Yes. You got it. It was the federal trickle-down theory at work. It fell to me and my partner to go out and talk to people like Stanley Kent. We met him and his wife at their house so we could do a security check of the place at the same time we told him that he should start watching his back. That is the same reason I was the one who got the call when his name came up on the flag.”

Bosch dropped the transmission into reverse and pulled quickly out of the driveway.

“Why didn’t you just tell me this up front?”

In the street the car jerked forward as Bosch threw it into drive.

“Because nobody got killed in Greensboro,” Walling said defiantly. “This whole thing could be something different. I was told to approach with caution and discretion. I’m sorry I lied to you.”

“A little late for that, Rachel. Did your people get the cesium back in Greensboro?”

She didn’t answer.

“Did you?”

“No, not yet. The word is that it was sold on the black market. The material itself is quite valuable on a monetary basis, even if used in the proper medical context. That’s why we are not sure what we’ve got here. That’s why I was sent.”

In ten more seconds they were at the correct block of Arrowhead Drive and Bosch started looking at address numbers again. But Walling directed him.

“That one up on the left, I think. With the black shutters. It’s hard to tell in the dark.”

Bosch pulled in and chunked the transmission into park before the car had stopped. He jumped out and headed to the front door. The house was dark. Not even the light over the door was lit. But as Bosch approached the front door he saw that it had been left ajar.

“It’s open,” he said.

Bosch and Walling drew their weapons. Bosch placed his hand on the door and slowly pushed it open. With guns up they entered the dark and quiet house and Bosch quickly swept the wall with his hand until he found a light switch.

The lights came on, revealing a living room that was neat but empty, with no sign of trouble.

“Mrs. Kent?” Walling called out loudly. Then to Bosch in a lower voice she said, “There’s just his wife, no children.”

Walling called out once more but the house remained silent. There was a hallway to the right and Bosch moved toward it. He found another light switch and illuminated a passageway with four closed doors and an alcove.

The alcove was a home office that was empty. He saw a blue reflection on the window that was cast by a computer screen. They passed by the alcove and went door by door clearing what looked like a guest bedroom and then a home gym with cardio machines and with workout mats hanging on the wall. The third door was to a guest bathroom that was empty and the fourth led to the master bedroom.

They entered the master and Bosch once more flicked up a wall switch. They found Mrs. Kent.

She was on the bed naked, gagged and hog-tied with her hands behind her back. Her eyes were closed. Walling rushed to the bed to see if she was alive while Bosch moved through the bedroom to clear the bathroom and a walk-in closet. There was no one.

When he got back to the bed he saw that Walling had removed the gag and used a pocketknife to slice through the black plastic snap ties that had been used to bind the woman’s wrists and ankles together behind her back. Rachel was pulling the bedspread over the unmoving woman’s naked body. There was a distinct odor of urine in the room.

“Is she alive?” Bosch asked.

“She’s alive. I think she’s just passed out. She was left here like this.”

Walling started rubbing the woman’s wrists and hands. They had turned dark and almost purple from lack of blood circulation.

“Get help,” she told him.

Annoyed with himself for not reacting until ordered, Bosch pulled out his phone and walked out into the hallway while he called the central communications center to get paramedics rolling.

“Ten minutes,” he said after hanging up and coming back into the bedroom.

Bosch felt a wave of excitement go through him. They now had a live witness. The woman on the bed would be able to tell them at least something about what had happened. He knew that it would be vitally important to get her talking as soon as possible.

There was a loud groan as the woman regained consciousness.

“Mrs. Kent, it’s okay,” Walling said. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

The woman tensed and her eyes widened when she saw the two strangers in front of her. Walling held up her credentials.

“FBI, Mrs. Kent. Do you remember me?”

“What? What is-where’s my husband?”

She started to get up but then realized she was naked beneath the bedcovers and tried to pull them tightly around herself. Her fingers were apparently still numb and couldn’t find purchase. Walling helped pull the spread around her.

“Where is Stanley?”

Walling knelt at the bottom of the bed so that she was on an equal level with her. She looked up at Bosch as if seeking direction on how to handle the woman’s question.

“Mrs. Kent, your husband is not here,” Bosch said. “I am Detective Bosch with the LAPD and this is Agent Walling with the FBI. We’re trying to find out what happened to your husband.”

The woman looked up at Bosch and then at Walling and her eyes held on the federal agent.

“I remember you,” she said. “You came to the house to warn us. Is that what is happening? Do the men who were here have Stanley?”

Rachel leaned in close and spoke in a calming voice.

“Mrs. Kent, we-it’s Alicia, right? Alicia, we need for you to calm down a little bit so that we can talk and possibly help you. Would you like to get dressed?”

Alicia Kent nodded.

“Okay, we’ll give you some space here,” Walling said. “You get dressed and we’ll wait for you in the living room. First let me ask, have you been injured in any way?”

The woman shook her head.

“Are you sure…?”

Walling didn’t finish, as though she were intimidated by her own question. Bosch wasn’t. He knew they needed