The Black Box

his baby mama like he was supposed to. Last known address is the house on Sixty-sixth Place. But that’s four years old.”
    Bosch knew a bench warrant for a deadbeat dad in South L.A. was almost meaningless. It would hardly draw the attention of a Sheriff’s Department pickup team unless there was some sort of media attention attached. Instead, it was a warrant that would sit in the data banks waiting to rise up the next time Washburn intersected with law enforcement and his name was run through the computer. But as long as he stayed low, he stayed free.
    “I’m going to swing by the old homestead and see if I get lucky,” Bosch said.
    “You want some backup?” Gant asked.
    “No, I’ve got it covered. But what you can do is bump up the heat on the street.”
    “You got it. I’ll put the word out on Two Small. Meantime, happy hunting, Harry. Let me know if you get him or you need me out there.”
    “Yeah, will do.”
    Bosch hung up and turned to Chu.
    “Ready to take a ride?”
    Chu nodded but with a reluctant frown.
    “You coming back by four?”
    “You never know. If my guy’s there, it might take some time. You want me to get somebody else?”
    “No, Harry. I just have something to do tonight.”
    Bosch was reminded that he was under explicit orders from his daughter not to be late for dinner.
    “What, hot date?” he asked Chu.
    “Never mind, let’s go.”
    Chu stood up, ready to go rather than answer questions about his private life.
    The Washburn house was a small ranch with a threadbare lawn and a Ford junker on blocks in the driveway. Bosch and Chu had circled the block before stopping in front and determined that the west corner of the house’s rear yard was no more than twenty feet from the spot in the alley where Anneke Jespersen was put up against a wall and shot.
    Bosch knocked firmly on the door and then stepped to the side of the stoop. Chu took the other side. The door had an iron security gate across it. It was locked.
    Eventually the door opened and a woman in her midtwenties stood looking at them through the grate. There was a small boy at her side, an arm wrapped around her leg at the thigh.
    “What do you want?” she asked indignantly after correctly sizing them up as cops. “I didn’t call no po-lice.”
    “Ma’am,” Bosch said. “We’re just looking for Charles Washburn. We have this address as his home address. Is he here?”
    The woman shrieked and it took Bosch a few seconds to realize she was laughing.
    “Ma’am?”
    “You talking about Two Small? That Charles Washburn?”
    “That’s right. Is he here?”
    “Now, why would he be here? You people are so stupid. That man owes me money. Why would he be here? He step foot ’round here, he better have that money.”
    Bosch now understood. He looked down at the boy in the doorway and then back up at the woman.
    “What is your name, please?”
    “Latitia Settles.”
    “And your son?”
    “Charles Junior.”
    “Do you have any idea where Charles Senior would be? We have the warrant for him for not making his payments to you. We’re looking for him.”
    “’Bout damn time. Every time I see his ass driving by I call you people but nobody comes, nobody does a damn thing. Now you here and I haven’t seen that little man in two months.”
    “What do you hear, Latitia? Do people tell you they’ve seen him around?”
    She shook her head emphatically.
    “He’s gone.”
    “What about his mother and his grandmother? They used to live in this house.”
    “His grandmother’s dead and his moms moved up to Lancaster a long time ago. She got outta this place.”
    “Does Charles go up there?”
    “I don’t know. He used to go up and see her for birthdays and such. I don’t know anymore if he’s dead or alive. All Iknow is my son ain’t seen a dentist or a doctor and he’s got no new clothes his whole life.”
    Bosch nodded. And he doesn’t have a father , he thought. He also didn’t say that if they apprehended Charles Washburn, it wasn’t because they were going to make him pay his child support.
    “Latitia, do you mind if we come in?”
    “What for?”
    “To just look around, make sure the place is safe.”
    She banged the grate.
    “We safe, don’t worry about that.” “So, we can’t come in?”
    “No, I don’t want nobody in here seeing this mess. I’m not ready for that.”
    “Okay, what about the backyard? Can we step back there?”
    She seemed confused by the question but then