The Crossing

40

Ellis was in the new apartment with the twins. He was reviewing the last day’s recordings, looking for the next project to work. Long called him on the burner.

“You were right,” he said. “He just showed up. I think you need to get over here.”

One of the girls was sitting on the couch, painting her fingernails. The other was taking a nap because the night before had been so busy. Ellis moved into the kitchen so he would have some privacy. He spoke in a low voice to Long.

“What’s he doing?” he asked.

“Well, he’s wearing a suit and tie for one thing,” Long said.

“Trying to look like a detective. That’ll be his play. What else?”

“He’s holding a file.”

“Where exactly is he?”

“The garage, leaning against a car that looks like a plain-wrap. You should get over here. Something is going to go down, I think.”

“He’ll want to get him away by himself. Someplace private.”

Ellis had to think about this. What would be the best opportunity for their own play?

“You still there?” Long asked.

“I’m here,” Ellis said. “Can you tell, is he carrying?”

“Uh... yeah, he’s carrying. Left hip. I see the jacket riding up on it.”

“We’ll have to remember that. And you’re sure he didn’t see you.”

“No, man, he drove in right by me.”

“In the Cherokee?”

“No, he’s got a Chrysler. Looks like a rental.”

Ellis considered this. Bosch knew that they had tagged the Cherokee. Did he know they were watching Schubert?

“You coming or not?” Long asked.

“Soon.”

He disconnected and walked into the living room.