Echo Park

city coming apart. It was chaos out there and I knew the police couldn’t do anything about it. It was a time when people were doing just what they wanted. I saw a guy on the tube talking about Hollywood Boulevard and how places were burning and I decided to go out to see it. I didn’t want the TV showing it to me. I wanted to see it for myself.”
    “Did you drive there?”
    “No, I could walk. Back then I lived on Fountain near LaBrea. I just walked up.”
    Rider had the Fitzpatrick file open in front of her. She glanced down at it for a moment while collecting her thoughts and formulating the next set of questions. That gave O’Shea the opportunity to jump in.
    “Where did the lighter fluid come from?” he asked. “Did you take it with you from your apartment?”
    Waits shifted his focus to O’Shea.
    “I thought the dyke was asking the questions,” he said.
    “We’re all asking the questions,” O’Shea said. “And could you please keep the personal attacks out of your responses?”
    “Not you, Mr. District Attorney. I don’t want to talk to you. Only her. And them.”
    He pointed to Bosch and Olivas.
    “Let me just back up a little bit before we get to the lighter fluid,” Rider said, smoothly pushing O’Shea to the side. “You said you walked up to Hollywood Boulevard from Fountain. Where did you go and what did you see?”
    Waits smiled and nodded at Rider.
    “I got that right, didn’t I?” he said. “I can always tell. I can always smell it on a woman, when she likes pussy.”
    “Mr. Swann,” Rider said, “can you please tell your client that this is about him answering our questions, not the other way around?”
    Swann put his hand on Waits’s left forearm, which was bound to the arm of his chair.
    “Ray,” he said. “Don’t play games. Just answer the questions. Remember, we want this. We brought it to them. It’s our show.”
    Bosch saw a slow burn move across Waits’s face as he turned and looked at his lawyer. But then it quickly disappeared and he looked back at Rider.
    “I saw the city burning, that’s what I saw.”
    He smiled after giving the answer.
    “It was like a Hieronymus Bosch painting.”
    He turned to Bosch as he said this. It froze Bosch for a moment. How did he know?
    Waits nodded toward Bosch’s chest.
    “It’s on your ID card.”
    Bosch had forgotten that they’d had to clip their IDs on once they entered the DA’s office. Rider moved in quickly with the next question.
    “Okay, which way did you walk once you got to Hollywood Boulevard?”
    “I took a right and headed east. The bigger fires were down that way.”
    “What was in your pockets?”
    The question seemed to give him pause.
    “I don’t know. I don’t remember. My keys, I guess. Cigarettes and a lighter, that was all.”
    “Did you have your wallet?”
    “No, I didn’t want to have ID with me. In case the police stopped me.”
    “Did you already have the lighter fluid with you?”
    “That’s right, I did. I thought I might join in the fun, help burn the city to the ground. Then I walked by that pawnshop and got a better idea.”
    “You saw Mr. Fitzpatrick?”
    “Yeah, I saw him. He was standing inside his security fence holding a shotgun. He also was wearing a holster like he was Wyatt Earp or something.”
    “Describe the pawnshop.”
    Waits shrugged.
    “A small place. It was called Irish Pawn. It had this neon sign out front that flashed a green three-leaf clover and then the three balls, you know, that are like the symbol for a pawnshop, I guess. Fitzpatrick was standing there, watching me when I passed by.”
    “And you kept walking?”
    “At first I did. I passed by and then I thought about the challenge, you know? How could I get to him without getting shot by that big fucking bazooka he was holding.”
    “What did you do?”
    “I took the can of EasyLight out of my jacket pocket and filled my mouth with it. Squirted it right in, like those flame breathers do on the Venice boardwalk. I then put the can away and got out a cigarette and my lighter. I don’t smoke anymore. It’s a terrible habit.”
    He looked at Bosch as he said this.
    “Then what?” Rider asked.
    “I went back to the asshole’s shop and walked into the alcove in front of the security fence. I acted like I was just looking for a blind to try to light my smoke. It was windy that night, you understand?”
    “Yes.”
    “So he started yelling at me to get the fuck away. He came right up to the