The Night Fire: A Ballard and Bosch thriller (Harry Bosch 22) by Michael Connelly Page B

it turns out this
is
her specialty. She’s been doing transfer cases for five years. It’s like the gods of guilt are smiling on me today.”
    “That’s great. But you’ve got nothing to smile about yet. Morales has to answer the way we think he’ll answer. If he doesn’t, we’re cooked.”
    “I’ve got a good feeling. This is going to be fun.”
    “Just remember, Morales has to go first, then your DNA lady.”
    “Oh, I got it.”
    Bosch turned on the Jeep’s engine and pulled away from the curb. He turned right on First Street and headed under the freeway. He changed the subject matter slightly.
    “You told me that when you were prepping the case you had Cisco look into third-party culpability,” Bosch said.
    Cisco Wojciechowski was Haller’s investigator. He had helped prep the Herstadt case but had to stop when he had an emergency appendectomy. He wasn’t due back on the job until the following week. Third-party culpability was a standard defense strategy: someone else did it.
    “We took a look at it,” Haller said. “But to get it into court for the defense you need proof and we didn’t have any proof. You know that.”
    “You focus on one subject?” Bosch asked.
    “Shit, no. Judge Montgomery had lots of enemies out there. We didn’t know where to start. We came up with a list of names—mostly out of the murder book—and went from there but never got to where we could point a finger in court. Just wasn’t there.”
    “I didn’t see any list in the material you gave me. And did you get a copy of the murder book?”
    “Cisco had the copy we got in discovery. But if this thing goes down the way we think it will tomorrow, we won’t need to prove third-party culpability. We won’t even need it. We’ll have big-time reasonable doubt already.”
    “You might not need it, but I will. See if you can get it from Cisco. I want to look at other avenues of investigation. The LAPD has to have looked at other persons of interest. I want to know who.”
    “You got it, Broheim. I’ll get it. And thanks for today.”
    Bosch disconnected. He felt uncomfortable being thanked for a ploy that might set an accused murderer free. He felt just as uncomfortable being an investigator for the defense, even if the defendant in this case was possibly an innocent man.

13
    Bosch parked right in front of Margaret Thompson’s house. He thought about making the short walk to the house without his cane but he looked at the six steps leading up to the porch. His knee was aching from a full day of movement, with and without the cane. He decided not to push it, grabbed the cane off the passenger seat, and used it to amble up the front walk and stairs. It was getting dark now but there were no lights on that he could see. He knocked on the door but was thinking that he should have called ahead and avoided wasting time. Then the porch lights came on and Margaret opened the door.
    “Harry?”
    “Hello, Margaret. How are you doing?”
    “I’m fine. What brings you here?”
    “Well, I wanted to see how you were doing and I wanted to also ask about the case—the murder book you gave me. I was hoping I could get a look at John Jack’s office, see if there were any notes relating to his investigation.”
    “Well, you’re welcome to look but I don’t think there is anything there.”
    She led him into the house and turned on lights as they went. It made Bosch wonder whether she had been sitting in the dark when he had knocked on the door.
    In the office Margaret signaled toward the desk. Bosch paused and studied the whole room.
    “The murder book was sitting on top of the desk when I retrieved it,” he said. “Is that where it was, or did you find it somewhere?”
    “It was in the bottom right side drawer,” Margaret said. “I found it when I was looking for the cemetery papers.”
    “Cemetery papers?”
    “He bought that plot at Hollywood Forever many years ago. He liked the name of it.”
    Bosch moved around the