The Brass Verdict

to kill or be killed.
    But it was after hours and the doors had locked behind me as I had left the building. I shot my hand into my pocket in search of the key, then jerked it out, bills, coins and wallet flying out with it.
    As I jammed the key into the lock, I could hear running steps coming up quickly behind me.
The gun! Get the gun!
    I finally yanked the door open and bolted down the hallway toward the office. I glanced behind me and saw the man catch the door just before it closed and locked. He was still coming.
    Key still in my hand, I reached the office door and fumbled the key while getting it into the lock. I could feel the killer closing in. Finally getting the door open, I entered, slammed it shut and threw the lock. I hit the light switch, then crossed the reception area and charged into Vincent’s office.
    The gun Cisco left for me was there in the drawer. I grabbed it, yanked it out of its holster and went back out to the reception area. Across the room I could see the killer’s shape through the frosted glass. He was trying to open the door. I raised the gun and pointed at the blurred image.
    I hesitated and then raised the gun higher and fired two shots into the ceiling. The sound was deafening in the closed room.
    “That’s right!” I yelled. “Come on in!”
    The image on the other side of the glass door disappeared. I heard footsteps moving away in the hallway and then the door to the bridge opening and closing. I stood stock-still and listened for any other sound. There was nothing.
    Without taking my eyes off the door, I stepped over to the reception desk and picked up the phone. I called 911 and it was answered right away, but I got a recording that told me my call was important and that I needed to hold on for the next available emergency dispatcher.
    I realized I was shaking, not with fear but with the overload of adrenaline. I put the gun on the desk, checked my pocket and found that I hadn’t lost my cell phone. With the office phone in one hand, I used the other to open the cell and call Harry Bosch. He answered on the first ring.
    “Bosch! That guy you showed me was just here!”
    “Haller? What are you talking about? Who?”
    “The guy in the photo you showed me today! The one with the gun!”
    “All right, calm down. Where is he? Where are you?”
    I realized that the stress of the moment had pulled my voice tight and sharp. Embarrassed, I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself before answering.
    “I’m at the office. Vincent’s office. I was leaving and I saw him in the garage. I ran back inside and he ran in after me. He tried to get into the office. I think he’s gone but I’m not sure. I fired a couple of shots and then-”
    “You have a gun?”
    “Goddamn right I do.”
    “I suggest you put it away before somebody gets hurt.”
    “If that guy’s still out there, he’ll be the one getting hurt. Who the hell is he?”
    There was a pause before he answered.
    “I don’t know yet. Look, I’m still downtown and was just heading home myself. I’m in the car. Sit tight and I’ll be there in five minutes. Stay in the office and keep the door locked.”
    “Don’t worry, I’m not moving.”
    “And don’t shoot me when I get there.”
    “I won’t.”
    I reached over and hung up the office phone. I didn’t need 911 if Bosch was coming. I picked the gun back up.
    “Hey, Haller?”
    “What?”
    “What did he want?”
    “What?”
    “The guy. What did he come there for?”
    “That’s a good goddamn question. But I don’t have the answer.”
    “Look, stop fucking around and tell me!”
    “I’m telling you! I don’t know what he’s after. Now quit talking and get over here!”
    I involuntarily squeezed my hands into fists as I yelled and put an accidental shot into the floor. I jumped as though I had been shot at by someone else.
    “Haller!” Bosch yelled. “What the hell was that?”
    I pulled in a deep breath and took my time composing myself before answering.
    “Haller? What’s going on?”
    “Get over here and you’ll find out.”
    “Did you hit him? Did you put him down?”
    Without answering I closed the phone.

Thirty-two
    Bosch made it in six minutes but it felt like an hour. A dark image appeared on the other side of the glass and he knocked sharply.
    “Haller, it’s me, Bosch.”
    Carrying the gun at my side, I unlocked the door and let him in. He, too, had his gun out and at his side.
    “Anything since we were on the phone?”