typical of the urban-blight apartments that sprouted in the city in the boom times of the fifties. They were designed and built to last thirty years and were going on twice that now. The stucco was cracked and discolored, the roof line was no longer straight and the flap of a blue plastic tarp was tied over the top of one of the turrets as a makeshift remedy for a leaking roof.
“It was nicer back then,” Pell said.
“Are you sure it’s the right place?” Bosch asked.
“Yeah, this is it. I remember it sort of looking like a castle and I was excited about living here. Except I didn’t know . . .”
His voice trailed off and he just looked at the building. He had turned halfway in his seat so his back was to Bosch. Harry saw Pell lean his forehead against the window. His shoulders then began to shake and there was a low sound almost like a whistle as he began to cry.
Bosch raised a hand and reached over to Pell’s shoulder, but then he stopped. He hesitated and pulled his hand back. Stone had been turning in her seat and she saw the move. In that split second, Bosch saw her disgust with him.
“Clayton,” she said. “It’s all right. It’s good to see this, to confront the past head-on.”
She reached over the seat and put her hand on Pell’s shoulder, doing what Bosch could not. She didn’t look at Bosch again.
“It’s all right,” she said again.
“I hope you catch the fucking bastard,” Pell said, his voice strangled with emotion.
“Don’t worry,” Bosch said. “We will.”
“I hope he dies. I hope he puts up a fight and you kill his ass.”
“Come on, Clayton,” Stone said. “Let’s not think about those kinds of—”
He slapped her hand off his shoulder.
“I want him to die!”
“No, Clayton.”
“Yes! Look at me! At what I am! It’s all because of him.”
Stone turned back in her seat and sat down.
“I think Clayton has been through enough here,” she said in a clipped tone. “Can we go back now?”
Bosch reached forward and tapped Chu on the shoulder.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Chu pulled away from the curb and headed north. The car was silent the whole way back and it was dark by the time they got back to the Buena Vista. Chu stayed in the car while Bosch walked Pell and Stone to the front gate.
“Clayton, thank you,” Bosch said as Stone used her key to open the passage. “I know that was tough on you. I appreciate your willingness to do it. It’s going to help the case.”
“Doesn’t matter if you have a case. Are you going to catch him?”
Bosch hesitated and then nodded.
“I think so. We still have some work to do but we’ll get it done and then we’ll go find him. I promise you that.”
Pell walked through the open gate without another word.
“Clayton, you should go to the kitchen and see if there’s dinner,” Stone instructed.
Pell raised a hand and waved, indicating he had heard her, as he walked off into the center courtyard. Stone turned to close the gate but Bosch was standing there. She looked up at him and Harry could read the disappointment.
“I guess we’re not having dinner,” he said.
“Why not? Your daughter?”
“No, she’s at her friend’s. But I just thought . . . I mean, I’m fine to have dinner. I just need to take my partner to his car in Studio City. You still want to meet at the restaurant?”
“Sure, but let’s not wait till eight. After that ride . . . I think I’m finished for the day.”
“All right. I’ll drop Chu off and then head over there and meet you. That okay or do you want me to come back here?”
“No, I’ll meet you there. Perfect.”
23
They got into the restaurant more than a half hour before their reservation time and were given a quiet booth in a back room near a fireplace. They ordered pastas and a Chianti Hannah chose. Through the dinner the food was good and the talk small—until Stone put Bosch directly on the spot.
“Harry, why couldn’t you comfort Clayton in the car today? I saw you. You couldn’t touch him.”
Bosch took a long drink of wine before attempting an answer.
“I just didn’t think he wanted to be touched. He was upset.”
She shook her head.
“No, Harry, I saw. And I need to know why a man like you could not have any sympathy for a man like him. I need to know that before I could . . . before anything could move forward between you and me.”
Bosch looked down at his plate. He put his fork down. He felt tense. He had met this woman only two days ago yet he couldn’t deny his attraction to her or that some sort of connection had been established. He didn’t want to spoil this chance but he didn’t know what to say.
“Life is too short, Harry,” she said. “I can’t waste my time and I can’t be with someone who doesn’t understand what I do and have a basic human compassion for people who are victims.”
He finally found his voice.
“I have compassion. My job is to speak for victims like Lily Price. But what about Pell’s victims? He’s damaged people as badly as he has been damaged. Am I supposed to pat him on the back and say, There, there, it’s going to be okay? It’s not okay now and it’s never going to be okay. And the thing is, he knows it.”
He made an open-palms gesture, as if to say, This is me, this is the truth.
“Harry, do you believe there is evil in the world?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t have a job if there wasn’t.”
“Where does it come from?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your job. You confront evil almost every day. Where does it come from? How do people become evil? Is it in the air? Do you catch it like you catch a cold?”
“Don’t patronize me. It’s a little more complicated than that. You know that.”
“I’m not patronizing you. I am trying to figure out how you think so that I can make a decision. I like you, Harry. A lot. Everything I’ve seen I like except what you did in the backseat of that car today. I don’t want to start something only to find out I was wrong about you.”
“So what’s this, like a job interview?”
“No. It’s me trying to get to know you.”
“It’s too much like those speed-dating things they have. You want to know everything before anything even happens. There’s something else here you’re not telling me.”
She didn’t respond right away and that told Bosch he had hit on something.
“Hannah, what is it?”
She ignored his question and insisted on her own.
“Harry, where does evil come from?”
Bosch laughed and shook his head.
“This is not what people talk about when they are trying to get to know each other. Why do you care what I think about that?”
“Because I just do. What’s your answer?”
He could see the seriousness in her eyes. This was important to her.
“Look, all I can tell you is that nobody knows where it comes from, okay? It’s just out there and it is responsible for truly awful things. And my job is to find it and take it out of the world. I don’t need to know where it
