The Crossing

55

In the hallway outside the courtroom, the show belonged to Haller. Landreth didn’t stick around. Cornell and Harrick didn’t stick around. And Foster had to be processed out of custody and wouldn’t actually be a free man for at least a couple more hours. That left Haller. The media from around the world surrounded him in an undulating circle of cameras, recorders, and microphones extended toward his face. He was like the guy who hit the walk-off home run at the World Series. They were three deep from all sides and Haller kept turning, looking high and low, giving everyone an opportunity to ask questions and hear his sage and sometimes wry responses. From his pocket he pulled a thick stack of business cards and handed them out as he spoke, making sure the reporters had his name right. The best advertising is free advertising.

Bosch stood off to the side with his daughter and watched the spectacle.

“This is amazing,” Maddie said.

“Just don’t get any ideas,” Bosch said. “One defense lawyer in the family is enough.”

“All right if I get closer up there to listen?”

“Sure, just don’t get eaten by those sharks. It’s a feeding frenzy.”

Maddie rolled her eyes and went off to approach the media knot.

Bosch looked around and saw Mendenhall standing a few yards away in the secondary ring of hallway observers. She was fascinated by the media spectacle as well. Bosch sauntered over and they spoke while keeping their eyes on the center scrum.

“Thanks for coming today,” he said.

“I wouldn’t have missed it,” she said. “By the way, your daughter is very proud of you. I can tell.”

“For now.”

“No, forever.”

He smiled and nodded. He hoped so.

“I hope you have an unlisted number,” Mendenhall said. “People are going to be calling you and Haller. Every innocent man in the system.”

Bosch shook his head.

“Not me,” he said. “I’m one and done.”

“Really? You?” she asked. “So, what’s next?”

Bosch shrugged and thought for a moment. Then he took his eyes off the circus and looked at her.

“I’ve got an old Harley. A nineteen-fifty panhead that needs its carburetor back in place. Actually, it needs a lot of things back in place. That’s next. It’s the same bike Lee Marvin rode in The Wild One. You ever see it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You ride, Mendenhall?”

Now she took her eyes off the circus and looked at him.

“Not in a long time.”

“Me neither. Give me a couple weeks and I’ll call you. We’ll ride.”

“I’d like that.”

Bosch nodded, then stepped away and walked over to get his daughter. It was time to go home.