The Black Ice (hb-2)

place?”
    “Money convinced them. They’d probably let you move in there if you had the bread, Harry. See, anything is negotiable when you have your hands on the purse strings. And I did.”
    Moore nodded slightly toward the duffel bag on the bed.
    “How about you? I have money. Not much. About a hundred and ten grand there.”
    “I figured you’d be running away with a fortune.”
    “Oh, I am. I am. What’s in the bag is just what I have on hand. You caught me a little short. But I can get you more. It’s in the banks.”
    “Guess you’ve been practicing Zorrillo’s signature as well as his looks.”
    Moore didn’t answer.
    “Who was he?”
    “Who?”
    “You know who.”
    “Half brother. Different fathers.”
    “This place. This is what it was all about, wasn’t it? It’s the castle you lived in before you were sent away.”
    “Something like that. Decided to buy it after he was gone. But it’s falling apart on me. It’s so hard to take care of something you love these days. Everything is a chore.”
    Bosch tried to study him. He looked tired of it all.
    “What happened back at the ranch?” Bosch asked.
    “You mean the three bodies? Yes, well, I guess you could say justice happened. Grena was a leech who had been sucking Zorrillo for years. Arpis detached him, you could say.”
    “Then who detached Arpis and Dance?”
    “I did that, Harry.”
    He said it without hesitation and the words froze Bosch. Moore was a cop. He knew never to confess. You didn’t talk until there was a lawyer by your side, a plea bargain in place, and a deal that was signed.
    Harry adjusted his sweating hands on the sawed-off. He took a step forward and listened for any other sound in the house. There was only silence until Moore spoke again.
    “I’m not going back, Harry. I guess you know that.”
    He said it matter-of-factly, as if it was a given, something that had been decided a long time ago.
    “How’d you get Zorrillo up to L.A., and then into that motel room? How’d you get his prints for the personnel file?”
    “You want me to tell you, Harry? Then what?”
    Moore looked down at the gym bag briefly.
    “Then nothing. We’re going back to L.A. You haven’t been advised-nothing you can say now can be used against you. It’s just you and me here.”
    “The prints were easy. I was making him IDs. He had three or four so he could come across when he liked. One time he told me he wanted a passport and full wallet spread. I told him I needed prints. Took ’em myself.”
    “And the motel?”
    “Like I said, he crossed over all the time. He’d go through the tunnel and the DEA would be out there sitting on the ranch thinking he was still inside. He liked to come up to see the Lakers, sit down on court level near that blonde actress who likes to get on TV. Anyway, he was up there and I told him I wanted to meet. He came.”
    “And you put him down and took his place… What about the old man, the laborer? What did he do?”
    “He was just in the wrong place. Zorrillo told me he was there when he came up through the floor on the last trip. He wasn’t supposed to be in that room. But I guess he couldn’t read the signs. Zorrillo said he couldn’t take the chance he’d tell someone about the tunnel.”
    “Why’d you dump him in the alley? Why didn’t you just bury him out in Joshua Tree. Someplace he’d never be found.”
    “The desert would’ve been good but I didn’t dump him, Bosch. Don’t you see? They were controlling me. They brought him up here and dumped him there. Arpis did. That night I get a call from Zorrillo telling me to meet him at the Egg and I. He says park in the alley. I did and there was the body. I wasn’t going to move the fucking thing. I called it in. You see it was one more way for him to keep his hold on me. And I went along. Porter caught the case and I made a deal with him to take it slow.”
    Bosch didn’t say anything. He was trying to envision the sequence Moore had just described.
    “This is getting boring, man. You going to try to cuff me, take me in, be the hero?”
    “Why couldn’t you let it go?” Bosch asked.
    “What?”
    “This place. Your father. The whole thing. You should have let the past go.”
    “I was robbed of my life, man. He kicked us right out. My mother-How do you let go of a past like that? Fuck you, Bosch. You don’t know.”
    Bosch said nothing. But he knew he was allowing this to go on too long. Moore was taking control of the