Echo Park

Marie,” Waits said.
    He looked at Bosch with a brightness in his eyes.
    “Your attorney’s proffer suggests that you know what happened to Marie Gesto when she disappeared in nineteen ninety-three. Is that true?”
    Waits frowned and nodded.
    “Yes, I’m afraid so,” he said with mock sincerity.
    “Do you know the current whereabouts of Marie Gesto or the location of her remains?”
    “Yes, I do.”
    Here it was, the moment Bosch had waited on for thirteen years.
    “She’s dead, isn’t she?”
    Waits looked at him and nodded.
    “Is that a yes?” Bosch asked for the tape.
    “That is a yes. She’s dead.”
    “Where is she?”
    Waits broke into a broad smile, the smile of a man who had not an atom of regret or guilt in his DNA .
    “She’s right here, Detective,” he said. “She’s right here with me. Just like all the others. Right here with me.”
    His smile turned into a laugh and Bosch almost went across the table at him. But Rider moved her hand under the table and put it on his leg. It immediately calmed him.
    “Hold on a second,” O’Shea said. “Let’s step out again, and this time I would like you to join us, Maury.”

12

    O’SHEA CHARGED INTO THE hallway first and managed to pace back and forth twice before all the others were out of the interview room. He then instructed the two deputies to go into the room and keep an eye on Waits. The door was then closed.
    “What the fuck, Maury?” O’Shea barked. “We’re not going to spend our time in there laying the groundwork for an insanity defense for you. This is a confession, not a defense maneuver.”
    Swann turned his palms up in a what-can-I-do gesture.
    “The guy obviously has issues,” he said.
    “Bullshit. He’s a stone-cold killer and he’s in there vamping like Hannibal Lecter. This isn’t a movie, Maury. This is real. You hear what he said about Fitzpatrick? He was more worried about a little burn on his hand than he was about the guy whose face he spit flames into. So I’ll tell you what, you go back in there and take five minutes with your client. Set him straight or we walk away from this and everybody takes their chances.”
    Bosch was unconsciously nodding. He liked the anger in O’Shea’s voice. He also liked the way this was going.
    “I’ll see what I can do,” Swann said.
    He went back into the interview room and the deputies came back out to give the attorney and his client privacy. O’Shea continued to pace while he cooled down.
    “Sorry about that,” he said to no one in particular. “But I’m not going to let them control this thing.”
    “They already are,” Bosch said. “Waits is, at least.”
    O’Shea looked at him, ready for a fight.
    “What are you saying?”
    “I mean we’re all here because of him. The bottom line is, we are engaged in an effort to save his life—at his own request.”
    O’Shea emphatically shook his head.
    “I’m not going to go back and forth on that issue with you again, Bosch. The decision has been made. At this point, if you’re not on board, the elevator’s right down the hall to the left. I’ll handle your part of the interview. Or Freddy will.”
    Bosch waited a beat before answering.
    “I didn’t say I wasn’t on board. Gesto is my case and I will see it through.”
    “Nice to hear it,” O’Shea said with full sarcasm. “Too bad you weren’t so attentive back in ’ninety-three.”
    He reached over and knocked harshly on the interview room door. Bosch stared at his back with anger welling up from some place deep inside. Swann opened the door almost immediately.
    “We’re ready to continue,” he said as he stepped back to let them in.
    After everyone retook their seats, and the recorder was turned back on, Bosch shook off his anger at O’Shea and locked eyes with Waits again. He repeated the question.
    “Where is she?”
    Waits smiled slightly, like he was tempted to set things off again, but then the smile turned into a smirk and he answered.
    “Up in the hills.”
    “Where in the hills?”
    “Up near the stables. That’s where I got her. Right when she was getting out of her car.”
    “Is she buried?”
    “Yes, she is buried.”
    “Exactly where is she buried?”
    “I would have to show you. It’s a place I know but I can’t describe . . . I would just have to show you.”
    “Try to describe it.”
    “It’s just a place in the woods near where she parked. You go in and there’s a path and then I went off the path. Way