The Black Ice (hb-2)

that. Besides, there are other bodies.”
    Harry could see this had grabbed Sheehan’s attention.
    “We can trade,” Bosch said quietly.
    Sheehan stood up and said, “Yeah, let’s go get that coffee.”
    Five minutes later they were at a table in the second-floor cafeteria and Bosch was telling him about Jimmy Kapps and Juan Doe #67. He outlined the connections between Moore and Juan Doe, Juan Doe and Mexicali, Mexicali and Humberto Zorillo, Zorillo and black ice, black ice and Jimmy Kapps. On and on it went. Sheehan asked no questions and took no notes until Harry was done.
    “So what do you think?” he asked then.
    “I think what you think,” Bosch said. “That Moore had crossed. Maybe he was fronting up here for Zorillo, the ice man, and got so deep he couldn’t get out. I don’t know how it all ties up yet but I still have some ideas I am playing with. I’m thinking a number of things. Maybe he wanted out and the ice man whacked him. Maybe he was working that file, going to give me something, and they whacked him.”
    “Possibilities.”
    “There’s also the possibility that word of the IAD investigation your partner Chastain was conducting got around, and they saw Moore as a danger and whacked him.”
    Sheehan hesitated. It was the moment of truth. If he discussed the IAD investigation he would be breaking enough departmental regs to get shipped permanently out of RHD. Like Harry.
    “I could get busted for talking about that,” Sheehan said. “Could end up like you, out there in the cesspool.”
    “It’s all a cesspool, man. Doesn’t matter if you’re on the bottom or the top. You’re still swimming in shit.”
    Sheehan took a sip of his coffee.
    “IAD had taken a report, this was about two months ago, that Moore was some way involved in the traffic on the Boulevard. Possibly offering protection, possibly a deeper involvement. The source was not clear on that.”
    “Two months ago?” Bosch asked. “Didn’t they get anything? I mean, Moore was still working the street all this time. Wasn’t there enough to at least put him on a desk?”
    “Look, you’ve got to remember that Irving put Chastain with me on this. But I’m not with Chastain. He doesn’t do much talking to me. All he would tell me was the investigation was in its infancy when Moore disappeared. He had no proof substantiating or discrediting the claim.”
    “You know how hard he worked it?”
    “I assume very hard. He’s IAD. He’s always looking for a badge to pull. And this looked like more than just departmental charges. This would have gone to the DA. So I assume he had a hard-on for it. He just didn’t get anything. Moore must’ve been very good.”
    Not good enough, Bosch thought. Obviously.
    “Who was the source?”
    “You don’t need that.”
    “You know I do. If I’m going to be a free agent on this I have to know what’s what.”
    Sheehan hesitated but didn’t make a good show of it.
    “It was anonymous-a letter. But Chastain said it was the wife. That’s what he figured. She turned him in.”
    “How’s he so sure?”
    “The details of the letter, whatever they were, Chastain said they would only be known by someone close to him. He told me it wasn’t unusual. It often comes from the spouse. But he said that a lot of times it’s bogus. A wife or husband will report something totally false, you know, if they are going through a divorce or something, just to fuck the other up with work. So, he spent a lot of time just seeing if that was the case here. ’Cause Moore and his wife were splitting up. He said she never admitted it but he was sure she sent it. He just never got very far with substantiating what was in it.”
    Bosch thought of Sylvia. He was sure they were wrong.
    “Did you talk to the wife, tell her the ID was confirmed?”
    “No, Irving did that last night.”
    “He tell her about the autopsy, ’bout it not being suicide?”
    “I don’t know about that. See, I don’t get to sit down with Irving like you with me here and ask him everything that comes into my head.”
    Bosch was wearing out his welcome.
    “Just a few more, Frankie. Did Chastain focus on black ice?”
    “No. When we got this file of yours yesterday, he about shit his pants. I got the feeling he was hearing about all that side of it for the first time. I kind of enjoyed that, Harry. If there was anything to enjoy about any of this.”
    “Well, now, you can tell him all the rest I told you.”
    “No