A Darkness More Than Night

Chapter 36

The post office on Wilcox was a large World War II-era building with twenty-five-foot-high ceilings and murals depicting bucolic scenes of brotherhood and good deeds covering the upper walls. As they walked in, McCaleb’s eyes scanned the murals but not for their artistic or philosophic merit. He counted three small cameras mounted above the public areas of the office. He pointed them out to Winston. They had a chance.

They waited in line and when it was their turn Winston flashed her badge and asked for the on-site security officer. They were directed to a door next to a row of vending machines and they waited nearly five minutes before it was opened and a small black man with gray hair looked out.

“Mr. Lucas?” Winston asked.

“That’s right,” he said with a smile.

Winston showed the badge once more and introduced McCaleb simply by name. McCaleb had told her on the way over from Hollywood station that calling him an associate wasn’t working.

“We’re working a homicide investigation, Mr. Lucas, and an important piece of evidence is a money order that was purchased here and probably mailed here on December twenty-second.”

“The twenty-second? That’s right in the Christmas rush.”

“That’s right, sir.”

Winston looked at McCaleb.

“We noticed your cameras out there on the walls, Mr. Lucas,” she said. “We’d be interested in knowing if you have a videotape from the twenty-second.”

“Videotape,” Lucas said, as if the word was foreign to him.

“You are the security officer here, right?” Winston said impatiently.

“Yes, I’m the security man. I run the cameras.”

“Can you take us back and show us your surveillance system, Mr. Lucas?” McCaleb said in a gentler tone.

“Yup, sure can. Just as soon as you get authorization I’ll take you on back.”

“And how and where do we get authorization?” Winston asked.

“From L.A. Regional. Downtown.”

“Is there a specific person we talk to? We’re on a homicide investigation, Mr. Lucas. Time is of the essence.”

“That would be Mr. Preechnar – he’s a postal inspector – you would talk to. Yes.”

“Do you mind if we come back to your office and we call Mr. Preechnar together?” McCaleb asked. “It would save us a lot of time and then Mr. Preechnar could just talk directly to you.”

Lucas thought about this for a moment and decided it was a good idea. He nodded.

“Let’s see what we can do.”

Lucas opened the door and led them through a warren of huge mail baskets to a cubbyhole office with two desks squeezed together. On one of the desks was a video monitor with its screen cut into four camera views of the public area of the post office. McCaleb realized he had missed one of the cameras when he had searched the walls earlier.

Lucas ran his finger down a list of phone numbers taped to the top of the desk and made the call. Once he got ahold of his supervisor he explained the situation and then turned the phone over to Winston. She went through their explanation again and then turned the phone back over to Lucas. She nodded to McCaleb. They got the approval.

“Okay, then,” Lucas said after hanging up. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.”

He reached to his hip and pulled up a ring of keys on a retractable wire attached to his belt. He went to the other side of the office and unlocked a closet door which he opened to reveal a rack of video recorders and four upper shelves of videotapes marked with the numbers one through thirty-one on each shelf. On the floor were two cartons containing fresh videotapes.

McCaleb saw all of this and suddenly realized it was January 22, exactly one month from the day the money order was purchased.

“Mr. Lucas, stop the machines,” he said.

“Can’t do that. The machines always gotta roll. If we’re open for business, then the tapes are rolling.”

“You don’t understand. December twenty-second is the day we want. We’re taping over the day we want to look at.”

“Hold your horses, Detective McCallan. I have to explain the setup.”

McCaleb didn’t bother correcting him on the name. There wasn’t time.

“Then hurry, please.”

McCaleb looked at his watch. It was eight-forty-eight. The post office had been open for forty-eight minutes. That was forty-eight minutes of the December 22 tape erased with forty-eight minutes of the current day’s taping.

Lucas started explaining the taping procedure. One VCR for each of the four cameras. One tape in each machine at the start of each day. The cameras were set at thirty frames a minute, allowing one tape to cover the entire day. The tape for an individual day was held for a month and used again if not reserved because of an investigation by the postal inspectors service.

“We get a lot of scam artists and whatnot. You know how it is in Hollywood. We end up with a lot of tapes on reserve. The inspectors come in and get ’em. Or we send ’em on down in dispatch.”

“We understand, Mr. Lucas,” said Winston, an urgent tone in her voice as she apparently came to the same realization as McCaleb. “Can you please turn off the machines or replace the tapes in them. We are taping over what could be valuable evidence.”

“Right away,” Lucas said.

But he proceeded to reach into the carton of new tapes and take out four cassettes. He then peeled labels off a dispenser roll and put them on the tapes. He took a pen from behind his ear and wrote the date and some sort of coding on the labels. Then, finally, he started popping tapes out of the VCRs and replacing them with the new cassettes.

“Now, how do you want to do this? These tapes are post office property. They are not leaving the premises. I can set you up over here at the desk. I’ve got a portable TV with built-in VCR if you want to use it.”

“Are you sure we just can’t borrow them for the day?” Winston said. “I could have them back by -”

“Not without a court order. That’s what Mr. Preechnar told me. That’s what I’m going to do.”

“Then I guess we don’t have a choice,” Winston said, looking at McCaleb and shaking her head in frustration.

While Lucas went to get the TV, McCaleb and Winston decided that McCaleb would stay and watch the videotape while Winston went to her office for an 11 A.M. meeting with the bureau men, Twilley and Friedman. She said she would not be mentioning McCaleb’s new investigation or the possibility that his earlier focus on Bosch might have been in error. She would return the copied murder book and crime scene tape.

“I know you don’t believe in coincidences but that’s all you have at the moment, Terry. You come up with something on the tape and I’ll bring it to the captain and we’ll blow Twilley and Friedman out of the water. But until you have it… I’m still in the doghouse and need something more than a coincidence to look anywhere other than at Bosch.”

“What about the call to Tafero?”

“What call?”

“Somehow he knew Gunn was in the tank and he came and bailed him out – so they could kill him that night and pin it on Bosch.”

“I don’t know about the call – if it wasn’t Zucker, it was probably somebody else in the station he’s got a sweetheart deal with. And the rest of what you just said is pure speculation without a single fact backing it up.”

“I think it’s -”

“Stop, Terry. I don’t want to hear it until you have something backing it up. I’m going to work.”

As if on cue, Lucas came back pushing a cart with a small television on top of it.

“I’ll set you up with this,” he said.

“Mr. Lucas, I need to go to an appointment,” Winston said. “My colleague is going to look at the tapes. Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Happy to be of service, ma’am.”

Winston looked at McCaleb.

“Call me.”

“You want me to drive you back to your car?”

“It’s just a few blocks. I’ll walk it.”

He nodded.

“Happy hunting,” she said.

McCaleb nodded. She had said that to him once before on a case that had not turned out so happily for him.