Angels Flight

Chapter 35

IT took Bosch nearly two hours to make his way through the Black Warrior case files. Many of the folders he had opened previously, but some had been viewed by Edgar and Rider or left to others on the squad Irving had put together at Angels Flight less than seventy-two hours earlier. He looked at each file as if he had never seen it before, looking for the thing that had been missed – the telling detail, the boomerang that would change his interpretation of everything and send it in a new direction.

That was the problem with gang-banging a case – putting multiple investigative teams on it. No single pair of eyes saw all of the evidence, all of the leads or even all of the paperwork. Everything was split up. Though one detective was nominally in charge, it was rare that everything crossed his radar screen. Now Bosch had to make sure it did.

He found what he believed he was looking for – and what Carla Entrenkin had hinted at – in the subpoena file, the folder where receipts from the process server were stored. These receipts were received by Howard Elias’s office after the subject of the subpoena had been served with the summons to appear for a deposition or as a witness in court. The file was thick with the thin white forms. The stack was in chronological order of service. The first half of the stack consisted of subpoenas for depositions and these dated back several months. The second half of the stack consisted of witness subpoenas for the court case that had been scheduled to start that day. These were summonses to the cops being sued as well as other witnesses.

Bosch remembered that Edgar had looked through this file earlier – he had come across the subpoena for the car wash records. But that discovery must have distracted him from other things in the file. As Bosch looked through the subpoenas another filing caught his eyes as being worthy of a second look. It was a subpoena for Detective John Chastain of the Internal Affairs Division. This was surprising because Chastain had never mentioned any involvement in the lawsuit. Chastain had headed the internal investigation of Michael Harris’s allegations that had cleared the RHD detectives of any wrongdoing, so the fact that he had been called wasn’t unusual. It would stand to reason that he would be called as a witness in defense of the detectives accused of wrongdoing by Michael Harris. But the fact that Chastain had not told anyone he was a subpoenaed witness for the plaintiffs in the lawsuit was. If that had been known he might have been disqualified from the team investigating the murders for the same reason that the RHD bulls had been removed. There was a clear conflict. The subpoena needed explanation. And Bosch’s interest in it increased further when he saw that the date of service was Thursday, the day before Elias’s murder. But curiosity turned to suspicion when Bosch saw the note handwritten by the process server at the bottom of the subpoena.

Det. Chastain refused acceptance at vehicle. Server placed under wiper.

The note made it very clear that Chastain didn’t want any part of the case. And it turned Bosch’s attention into a sharp focus. The city could have been burning from Dodger Stadium to the beach and he probably wouldn’t have noticed the television now.

He realized as he stared at the subpoena that the subject – Chastain – had been given a specific date and time to appear in court to give testimony. He shuffled through the court subpoenas and realized that they were placed in the file in order of service, not in the order that those summoned would appear in trial. He knew then that by placing them in order according to the appearance dates and times, he would have the chronological order of Elias’s case and a better understanding of how he planned the trial.

It took him two minutes to put the subpoenas in the proper order. When he was done, he looked at the documents one by one, envisioning the process of the trial. First Michael Harris would testify. He would tell his story. Next would come Captain John Garwood, head of RHD. Garwood would testify about the investigation, giving the sanitized version. The next subpoena was for Chastain. He would follow Garwood. Reluctantly – he had tried to refuse service – he would follow the RHD captain.

Why?

Bosch put the question aside for the moment and began going through the other subpoenas. It became clear that Elias was following an age-old strategy of alternating positive and negative witnesses. He was planning to alternate the testimony of the RHD men, the defendants, with witnesses who would obviously benefit Michael Harris. There was Harris, the doctor who treated his ear, Jenkins Pelfry, his boss at the car wash, the two homeless men who had found Stacey Kincaid’s body, and finally Kate Kincaid and Sam Kincaid. It was clear to Bosch that Elias was going to attack the RHD case, expose the torture of Michael Harris, and establish his defense of having done nothing wrong. He would then blow the RHD completely out of the water by bringing in Kate Kincaid to detail the car wash connection and the explanation for the fingerprints. Then most likely it would be Sam Kinkaid’s turn. Elias would use him to expose the Charlotte’s Web Site and the horror of Stacey Kincaid’s young life. It was clear that the case Elias was going to present to the jury followed the same line of investigation Bosch and his team had followed – that Harris was innocent, that there was an explanation for his fingerprints, and that Sam Kincaid or someone connected to him and the pedo net killed his stepdaughter.

Bosch knew it was a good strategy. He believed Elias would have won the case. He flipped back to the front of the court subpoenas. Chastain was third in line, putting him on the positive side of the alternating strategy – coming after Garwood and before one of the RHD defendants. He was going to be a positive witness for Elias and Harris but he had attempted to refuse being served the subpoena.

Bosch read the name of the service company off the form and called information. It was late but process serving was an odd-hours job. People weren’t always served nine to five. A man answered the phone and Bosch, reading from the Chastain subpoena, asked for Steve Vascik.

“He’s not here tonight. He’s home.”

Bosch identified himself and explained that he was conducting a homicide investigation and needed to talk to Vascik immediately. The man on the other end of the line was reluctant to give out Vascik’s phone number but agreed to take Bosch’s number and contact Vascik with the message.

After disconnecting the call Bosch got up and paced around his house. He wasn’t sure what he had. But he had the fluttering feeling in his stomach that often came when he was on the edge of a breakthrough to something hidden. He was flying on instinct and his instinct told him he was close to something he would soon be able to wrap his hands around.

The phone rang and he grabbed it off the couch and pushed the connect button.

“Mr. Vascik?”

“Harry, it’s me.”

“Eleanor. Hey, how are you? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. But I’m not the one in a city about to burn. I’ve been watching the news.”

“Yeah. It looks bad.”

“I’m sorry it turned out that way, Harry. You told me about Sheehan once. I know you guys were close.”

Bosch realized that she didn’t know that the friend’s home where Sheehan had killed himself was theirs. He decided not to say anything. He also wished he had call waiting service on his line.

“Eleanor, where are you?”

“I’m back in Vegas.” She gave an unhumorous laugh. “The car barely made it.”

“At the Flamingo?”

“No… I’m somewhere else.”

She didn’t want to tell him where and that hurt.

“Is there a number I can call you at?”

“I’m not sure how long I’m going to be here. I just wanted to call and make sure you were okay.”

“Me? Don’t worry about me. Are you okay, Eleanor?”

“I’m fine.”

Bosch didn’t care about Vascik anymore.

“Do you need anything? What about your car?”

“No. I’m fine. Now that I’m here I’m not worried about the car.”

There was a long moment of silence. Bosch heard one of the electronic sounds that he had once heard somebody call digital bubbles.

“Well,” he finally said, “can we talk about this?”

“I don’t think this is a good time. Let’s think about things for a couple of days and then we’ll talk. I’ll call you, Harry. Be careful.”

“Do you promise? To call?”

“I promise.”

“Okay, Eleanor. I’ll wait.”

“Good-bye, Harry.”

She hung up before he could say good-bye. Bosch stood there next to the couch for a long time, thinking about her and what had happened to them.

The phone rang while still in his hand.

“Yes?”

“Detective Bosch? I got a message to call you.”

“Mr. Vascik?”

“Yes. From Triple A Process. My boss Shelly said you – ”

“Yes, I called.”

Bosch sat down on the couch and pulled a notebook onto his thigh. He took a pen out of his pocket and wrote Vascik’s name on the top of a page. Vascik sounded young and white to him. He had some Midwest in his voice.

“How old are you, Steve?”

“I’m twenty-five.”

“You been with Triple A very long?”

“A few months.”

“Okay, last week, on Thursday, you served paper on an LAPD detective named John Chastain, do you remember that?”

“Sure. He didn’t want to be served. Most cops I’ve done don’t really care. They’re used to it.”

“Right. That’s what I wanted to ask you about. When you say he didn’t want to be served, what do you mean exactly?”

“Well, the first time I tried to serve him he refused to take the subpoena and walked away. Then when – ”

“Wait a minute, go back. When was the first time?”

“It was Thursday morning. I went to the lobby at Parker Center and had the cop at the desk call him and tell him to come down. I didn’t say what it was for. It said on the paper he was IAD so I just said I was a citizen with something for him that he needed. He came down and when I said who I was he just backed off and went back to the elevator.”

“What you’re saying is that it was like he knew you had a subpoena and even what case it was?”

“Right. Exactly.”

Bosch thought about what he had read in Elias’s last notebook. His feuding with a source named “Parker.”

“Okay, then what?”

“Well, then I went and did some other jobs and I came back about three-thirty and watched the employee lot at Parker. I saw him come out to go home, I guess, and I cut between some cars and ducked down and sort of came up just as he was opening his door. I had my spiel all worked out and told him he was served and said the case number and all of that. He still wouldn’t take the paper but that didn’t matter because under California law all you – ”

“Right, I know. You can’t refuse a subpoena once you have been advised that it is a legal, court-ordered subpoena. So what did he do?”

“Well, first he scared the shit out of me. He put his arm under his coat like he was going for his gun or something.”

“Then what?”

“Then he sort of stopped. I guess he thought about what he was doing. He relaxed a little bit but he still wouldn’t take the paper. He told me to tell Elias to fuck off. He got in his car and started pulling out. I knew he was served so I just put the paper under his windshield wiper. He drove off with it like that. I don’t know what happened to it after that. Could’ve blown off but it doesn’t matter. He was legally served.”

Bosch thought for a moment while Vascik went on about the intricacies of process serving. He finally cut him off.

“Did you know Elias got killed Friday night?”

“Yes, sir. Sure. He was our client. We did all his cases.”

“Well, did you ever think to call the department after he was killed and tell someone about this thing with Chastain?”

“I did,” Vascik answered defensively. “I called.”

“You called? Who’d you call?”

“I called Parker Center and said I had information. I was transferred to an office and told the guy who answered who I was and that I had some information. He took my name and number and said someone would call me back.”

“Nobody ever did?”

“No, somebody called in like five minutes. Maybe less. Right away. I told him.”

“When was this?”

“Sunday morning. I was out climbing all day Saturday. Up at Vasquez Rocks. I didn’t hear about Mr. Elias until I read the Times on Sunday morning.”

“Do you remember the name of the cop you told this to?”

“I think his name was Edgar but I don’t know if that was his first or last name.”

“What about the person who took your call in the first place? Did he give a name?”

“I think he said his name but I forget it. But he did say he was an agent. So maybe it was an FBI guy.”

“Steve, think for a minute. What time did you make this call and when did Edgar call you back? Do you remember?”

Vascik was quiet while he thought about it.

“Well, I didn’t get up till about ten ’cause my legs were killing me from the climb. I then kind of lazed around and read the paper. It was all over the front page, so I probably read it right after the sports. And then I called. So maybe about eleven. Thereabouts. And then that Edgar guy called back pretty quick.”

“Thanks, Steve.”

Bosch clicked the phone off. He knew there was no way Edgar had taken a call at Parker Center on Sunday morning at eleven. Edgar had been with Bosch all Sunday morning and most of the rest of the day. And they were on the road, not working out of Parker. Someone had used his partner’s name. A cop. Someone inside the investigation had used Edgar’s name.

He looked up Lindell’s cell phone number and called. Lindell still had it turned on and he answered.

“It’s Bosch. You remember Sunday morning, after you and your people came into the case, you spent most of the morning in the conference room with the files, right?”

“Yeah, right.”

“Who was answering the phones?”

“Me mostly. A couple of the others.”

“Did you take a call from a guy said he was a process server?”

“Sounds familiar. But we were getting lots of calls that morning. Reporters and people thinking they knew something. People threatening the cops.”

“A process server named Vascik. Steve Vascik. He said he had some information that might be important.”

“Like I said, it’s familiar. What about it, Bosch? I thought this case was over.”

“It is. I’m just checking some loose ends. Who’d you give the call to?”

“I gave those kind of calls – you know, info off the street – to the IAD guys. To keep them busy.”

“Which one did you give the process server to?”

“I don’t know, probably Chastain. He was in charge of that group. He might’ve taken it or told one of the others to call the guy back. See, Irving set up some shitty phones in there. We couldn’t transfer one to the other and I wanted the main line free. So we took numbers and passed them on.”

“Okay, thanks, man. Have a nice night.”

“Hey, what is – ”

Bosch disconnected before he had to answer any questions. He thought about the information from Lindell. He believed there was a high probability that the call from Vascik had been routed to Chastain himself, who then called back – probably taking the message to his own office for privacy – and posed as Edgar.

Bosch had one more call to make. He opened his phone book and found a number that he had not used in many years. He called Captain John Garwood, head of Robbery-Homicide Division, at home. He knew it was late but he doubted very many people were sleeping in Los Angeles tonight. He thought about what Kiz Rider had said about Garwood reminding her of Boris Karloff and only coming out at night.

Garwood answered after two rings.

“It’s Harry Bosch. We need to talk. Tonight.”

“About?”

“John Chastain and the Black Warrior case.”

“I don’t want to talk on the phone.”

“Fine. Name the place.”

“Frank Sinatra?”

“How soon?”

“Give me half an hour.”

“I’ll be there.”