The Black Echo

Small, dark and maybe handsome was about as good as the vault clerks could do. We thought this guy was the scout even before we found out about the ATVs. When a boxholder wants to see his box, the clerk takes him in, unlocks the little door and then escorts him to one of the viewing rooms. When he’s done, they both take the box back and the customer initials his box card. Kind of like at a library. So, when we looked at this guy’s card we saw the initials-FBI. You’re a man who doesn’t like coincidences. Neither did we. We think somebody was having fun with us. Later, it was confirmed when we tracked the ATVs to Tustin.”
    Harry sipped his coffee.
    “Not much good it did us,” she said. “Never found him. In the debris of the vault after the burglary we were able to find his box. We printed it and the door. Nothing. We showed the vault clerks some mugs-Meadows was in there-and they couldn’t make anybody.”
    “We could go back to them now with Franklin and Delgado, see if one of them was this Isley.”
    “Yeah. We will. I’ll be right back.”
    She got up and left and Bosch went back to drinking coffee and studying the list. He read every name and address on the list, but nothing jogged his memory aside from the handful of names of celebrities, politicians and the like that had safe-deposit boxes. Bosch was going over the list a second time when Eleanor came back. She was carrying a piece of paper, which she slid onto his desk.
    “I checked Rourke’s office. He already sent most of the paperwork I turned in over to records. But the hypnosis memo was still in his in box, so he must not have seen it yet. I took it back. It’s useless now and it might be better if he didn’t see it.”
    Harry glanced at the memo and then folded the page and put it in his pocket.
    “Frankly,” she said, “I don’t think any of the paper was out in the open long enough… I mean, I just don’t see it. And Rourke… he’s a technocrat, not a killer. Like they said about you at behavioral sciences, he wouldn’t cross the line for money.”
    Bosch looked at her and found himself wanting to say something to please her, to get her back on his side. He could think of nothing and could not understand this new coldness in her manner.
    “Forget it,” he said, and then, looking down at the lists, he added, “How far did you people check out these people who reported no losses?”
    She looked down at the printouts where Bosch had circled list B. There were nineteen names on the list.
    “We ran each name for criminal records,” she began. “We did a telephone interview and later a face-to-face. If an agent got weird vibes or somebody’s story didn’t play well, then another agent would come by unannounced to do a follow-up interview. Kind of get another opinion. I was not part of that. We had a second crew who handled most of the field interviews. If there is a particular name there that you are interested in, I could pull the interview summaries.”
    “What about the Vietnamese names on the lists? I count thirty-four boxholders with Vietnamese names, four are on the no-loss list, one on the dead-end list.”
    “What about the Vietnamese? There is also probably a breakout, if you look for it, on Chinese, Korean, whites, blacks and Latinos. These were equal opportunity bandits.”
    “Yeah, but you came up with a connection to Vietnam in Meadows. Now we have Franklin and Delgado, possibly involved. All three were MPs in Vietnam. We’ve got Charlie Company, which may or may not have a part in this. So, after Meadows became a suspect and you started pulling military records of tunnel rats, did you do any further checking with the Vietnamese on this list?”
    “No-well, yes. On the foreign nationals we ran their names through INS to see how long they’d been here, whether they were legal. But that was about it.” She was quiet a moment. “I can see what you are getting at. It’s a flaw in the way we handled it. See, we didn’t develop Meadows as a possible suspect until a few weeks after the robbery. By then most of these people had already been interviewed. After we started looking at Meadows, I don’t think we went back to see if any of the names on the list fit in with him. You think one of the Vietnamese could have somehow been part of this?”
    “I don’t know what I’m thinking. Just looking for connections. Coincidences that aren’t coincidences.”
    Bosch took a notebook out of his coat pocket and