The Brass Verdict

staying. It was just a precaution. Before the trial was over, they were not going to be very happy with me. It was good strategy to know where your enemies were.
    I was halfway through my grilled-chicken salad when I glanced through the window into the waiting room. It was a grand mixture of architectural designs but primarily it had an art deco vibe to it. There were rows and rows of big leather chairs for travelers to wait in and huge chandeliers hanging above. I saw people sleeping in chairs and others sitting with their suitcases and belongings gathered close around them.
    And then I saw Bosch. He was sitting alone in the third row from my window. He had his earbuds in. Our eyes held for a moment and then he looked away. I put my fork down and reached into my pocket for my cash. I had no idea how much Mad Housewife cost per glass but Lorna was into her second round. I put five twenties down on the table and told the others to finish eating while I stepped out to make a phone call.
    I left the restaurant and called Bosch’s cell. He pulled his plugs and answered it as I was approaching the third row of seats.
    “What?” he said by way of a greeting.
    “Frank Morgan again?”
    “Actually, Ron Carter. Why are you calling me?”
    “What did you think of the story?”
    I sat in the open seat across from him, gave him a glance but acted like I was talking to someone far away from me.
    “This is kind of stupid,” Bosch said.
    “Well, I didn’t know whether you wanted to stay undercover or-”
    “Just hang up.”
    We closed our phones and looked at each other.
    “Well?” I asked. “Are we in play?”
    “We won’t know until we know.”
    “What’s that mean?”
    “The story is out there. I think it did what we wanted it to do. Now we wait and see. If something happens, then, yes, we’re in play. We won’t know we’re in play until we’re in play.”
    I nodded, even though what he had said made no sense to me.
    “Who’s the woman in black?” he asked. “You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend. We should probably put coverage on her, too.”
    “She’s my jury reader, that’s all.”
    “Oh, she helps you pick out the cop haters and antiestablishment types?”
    “Something like that. Is it just you here? Are you watching me by yourself?”
    “You know, I had a girlfriend once. She always asked questions in bunches. Never one at a time.”
    “Did you ever answer any of her questions? Or did you just cleverly deflect them like you are doing now?”
    “I’m not alone, Counselor. Don’t worry. You have people around you that you’ll never see. I’ve got people on your office whether you are there or not.”
    And cameras. They had been installed ten days earlier, when we had thought that the
Times
story was imminent.
    “Yeah, good, but we won’t be there for long.”
    “I noticed. Where are you moving to?”
    “Nowhere. I work out of my car.”
    “Sounds like fun.”
    I studied him a moment. He had been sarcastic in his tone as usual. He was an annoying guy but somehow he had gotten me to entrust my safety to him.
    “Well, I’ve got to get to court. Is there something I should be doing? Any particular way you want me to act or place you want me to go?”
    “Just do what you always do. But there is one thing. Keeping an eye on you in motion takes a lot of people. So, at the end of the day, when you are home for the night, call me and tell me so I can release some people.”
    “Okay. But you’ll still have somebody watching, right?”
    “Don’t worry. You’ll be covered twenty-four-seven. Oh, and one other thing.”
    “What?”
    “Don’t ever approach me again like this.”
    I nodded. I was being dismissed.
    “Got it.”
    I stood up and looked toward the restaurant. I could see Lorna counting the twenties I had left and putting them down on the check. It looked like she was using them all. Patrick had left the table and gone to get the car from the valet.
    “See ya, Detective,” I said without looking at him.
    He didn’t respond. I walked away and caught up with my party as they were coming out of the restaurant.
    “Was that Detective Bosch you were with?” Lorna asked.
    “Yeah, I saw him out there.”
    “What was he doing?”
    “He said he likes to come over here for lunch, sit in those big, comfortable chairs and just think.”
    “That’s a coincidence that we were here too.”
    Julie Favreau shook her head.
    “There are no coincidences,” she