Echo Park

and I would have to lead a certain detective to the body. This detective had to be convinced, and leading him to the body would be the only way to do it. That detective was you, Bosch.”
    “And you said yes.”
    “When he said there would be a field trip, I said yes. That was the only reason. It meant daylight. I saw a chance at daylight.”
    “And you were led to believe that this offer, this deal—that it came directly from Olivas and O’Shea?”
    “Who else would it come from?”
    “Did Maury Swann ever use their names in connection with the deal?”
    “He said this is what they wanted me to do. He said it came directly from them. They would not make a deal if I didn’t throw in the freebie. I had to throw in Gesto and take you to her or there was no fucking deal. You get it?”
    Bosch nodded.
    “Yeah, I got it.”
    He felt his face getting hot with anger. He tried to channel it, put it aside so that it was ready to be used, but not at this moment.
    “How did you get the details you gave me during the confession?”
    “Swann. He got them from them. He said they had the records from the original investigation.”
    “And he told you how to find the body up there in the woods?”
    “Swann told me there were markers in the woods. He showed me pictures and told me how to lead everybody there. It was easy. The night before my confession I studied up on everything.”
    Bosch was silent as he thought about how easily he had been led down the path. He had wanted something so badly and for so long that it had made him blind.
    “And what were you supposed to get out of all of this, Raynard?”
    “You mean, what was in it for me from their point of view? My life, man. They were offering me my life. Take it or leave it. But the truth is, I didn’t care about that. I told you, man, when Maury said there’d be a field trip, I knew that I might have a chance to get away . . . and to visit my . . . my foxhole one last time. That was enough for me. I didn’t care about anything else. I didn’t care if I died trying, either.”
    Bosch tried to think of what he should do or ask next. He thought about using his cell to call the district attorney or a judge and have Waits confess over the phone. He put the flashlight down again and reached into his pocket but then he remembered he had dropped his phone when he had jumped onto Rachel as the shooting broke out in the garage.
    “Are you still there, Detective?”
    “I’m here. What about Marie Gesto? Did Swann tell you why you had to confess to the Marie Gesto killing?”
    Waits laughed.
    “He didn’t have to. It was pretty obvious that the fix was in. Whoever did Gesto was trying to get you off his back.”
    “No name was mentioned?”
    “No, no name.”
    Bosch shook his head. He had nothing. Nothing on O’Shea or Anthony Garland or anybody else. He looked down the tunnel in the direction of the garage. He could see nothing but he knew that there would be people there. They had blacked out that end to prevent backlighting. He knew they would be coming at any moment.
    “What about your escape?” he asked in order to keep the dialogue going. “Was that planned or were you just improvising?”
    “A little of both. I met with Swann the night before the field trip. He told me how I would lead you to the body. He showed me the photos and told me about the markings in the trees and how they would begin after we came to where there had been a mud slide and we would have to climb down. That’s when I knew. I knew I might have a chance then. So I told him to make them uncuff me if I had to do any climbing. I told him that I wouldn’t follow through on the deal if I had to do any climbing with my hands cuffed to my sides.”
    Bosch remembered O’Shea overruling Olivas and telling him to take the cuffs off. Olivas’s reluctance had all been a play for Bosch’s benefit. Everything had been a play for his benefit. Everything was phony and he had been played perfectly.
    Bosch heard the sound of men crawling behind him in the tunnel. He turned the flashlight on and saw them. It was the SWAT team. Black Kevlar, automatic rifles, night-vision goggles. They were coming. Any moment they would launch a flash-bang grenade into the tunnel and start coming. He turned the light out. He thought about the woman. He knew Waits would kill her the moment they made the move.
    “Were you really at McLaren?” Waits asked.
    “I was there. It was before your time but I was there. I