City Of Bones

you, not on me! I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it, no, no, NO! I never hurt anyone. Never, never, never. Not a soul on this earth. I love the children. LOVE!!!! No, it was you who hurt me. You. But it is I who can’t live with the pain of what you have ruthlessly caused. I can’t.
    It was repetitive and almost as if someone had written down an extemporaneous diatribe rather than sat down with pen and paper and wrote out their thoughts. The middle of the second page was blocked off and inside the box were names under a heading of “Those Found Responsible.” The list started with Judy Surtain, included the anchor on the Channel 4 nightly news, and listed Bosch, Edgar and three names Bosch didn’t recognize. Calvin Stumbo, Max Rebner and Alicia Felzer.
    “Stumbo was the cop and Rebner was the DA on the first case,” Edgar said. “In the sixties.”
    Bosch nodded.
    “And Felzer?”
    “Don’t know that one.”
    The pen with which the pages were apparently written was on the table next to the last page. Bosch didn’t touch it because he planned to have it checked for Trent’s fingerprints.
    As he continued to read, Bosch noticed that each page was signed at the bottom with Trent’s signature. At the end of the last page, Trent made an odd plea that Bosch didn’t readily understand.
    My one regret is for my children. Who will care for my children? They need food and clothes. I have some money. The money goes to them. Whatever I have. This is my last will and testament signed by me. Give the money to the children. Have Morton give the money and don’t charge me anything. Do it for the children.
    “His children?” Bosch asked.
    “Yeah, I know,” Edgar said. “Weird.”
    “What are you doing here? Where is Nicholas?”
    They looked at the doorway from the kitchen to the living room. A short man in a suit who Bosch guessed was a lawyer and had to be Morton stood there. Bosch stood up.
    “He’s dead. It looks like a suicide.”
    “Where?”
    “Master bath, but I wouldn’t-”
    Morton was already gone, heading to the bathroom. Bosch called after him.
    “Don’t touch anything.”
    He nodded to Edgar to follow and make sure. Bosch sat back down and looked at the pages again. He wondered how long it took Trent to decide that killing himself was all that he had left and then to labor over the three-page note. It was the longest suicide note he had ever encountered.
    Morton came back into the living room, Edgar just behind him. His face was ashen and his eyes held on the floor.
    “I tried to tell you not to go back there,” Bosch said.
    The lawyer’s eyes came up and fixed on Bosch. They filled with anger, which seemed to restore some color to Morton’s face.
    “Are you people happy now? You completely destroyed him. Give a man’s secret to the vultures, they put it on the air and this is what you get.”
    He gestured with a hand in the direction of the bathroom.
    “Mr. Morton, you’ve got your facts wrong, but essentially it looks like that’s what happened. In fact, you’d probably be surprised by how much I agree with you.”
    “Now that he’s dead, that must be very easy for you to say. Is that a note? Did he leave a note?”
    Bosch got up and gestured for him to take his spot on the couch in front of the three pages.
    “Just don’t touch the pages.”
    Morton sat down, unfolded a pair of reading glasses and started studying the pages.
    Bosch walked over to Edgar and said in a low voice, “I’m going to use the phone in the kitchen to make the calls.”
    Edgar nodded.
    “Better get Media Relations on it. The shit is going to hit that fan.”
    “Yeah.”
    Bosch picked up the wall phone in the kitchen and saw it had a redial button. He pushed it and waited. He recognized the voice that answered as Morton’s. It was an answering machine. Morton said he wasn’t home and to leave a message.
    Bosch called Lt. Billets’s direct line. She answered right away and Bosch could tell she was eating.
    “Well, I hate to break this to you while you’re eating, but we’re up here at Trent’s place. It looks like he killed himself.”
    There was silence for a long moment and then she asked Bosch if he was sure.
    “I’m sure he’s dead and I’m pretty sure he did it himself. Hung himself with a couple of wire hangers in the shower. There’s a three-page note here. He denies anything to do with the bones. He blames his death on Channel Four and the police mostly-me and Edgar in particular.