The Closers

true.”
    “Don’t give me that good-of-the-community bullshit, Chief. You had your deal, that’s all you cared about. You had Ross and IAD in your pocket and you wanted to keep it that way. Only you were dead wrong. The DNA proves it. Mackey was good for Verloren and your investigation was for shit.”
    “No, wait just a minute. It only proves one thing. That he had the gun. I read the story you planted in the paper today, too. The DNA connects him to the gun, not to the murder.”
    Bosch waved him off. He knew there was no sense going back and forth with Irving. His only hope was that his own threat to go to the media and IAD would neutralize Irving ’s threat. He believed they were at a stalemate.
    “Who checked the alibis?” he asked calmly.
    Irving didn’t answer.
    “Let me guess. McClellan. He’s got his prints all over this.”
    Again Irving didn’t answer. It was like he had drifted off into the memory of seventeen years before.
    “Chief, I want you to call your dog. I know he still works for you. Tell him I want to know about the alibis. I want details. I want reports. I want everything he’s got by seven a.m. today or that’s it. We do what we have to do and we see where the chips fall.”
    Bosch was about to turn away when Irving finally spoke.
    “There are no alibi reports,” he said. “There never would have been any.”
    Bosch heard the elevator open and Rider soon rounded the corner, carrying a file. She stopped dead when she saw the confrontation. She said nothing.
    “No reports?” Bosch said to Irving. “Then you better hope he’s got a good memory. Good night, Chief.”
    Bosch turned and started down the hall. Rider hurried to catch up to him. She looked back over her shoulder to make sure Irving was not following. After they turned in through the double doors to RHD, she spoke.
    “Are we in trouble, Harry? Is he going to turn this against the man up on six?”
    Bosch looked at her. The mix of dread and fear on her face told him how important his answer was going to be.
    “Not if I can help it,” he told her.

34
    WILLIAM BURKHART and Belinda Messier were being held in separate interview rooms. Bosch and Rider decided to take Messier first so that Burkhart would have to sit and wait and wonder. It would also give them time to let Marcia and Jackson get the warrant and get into the house on Mariano. What they found might be helpful during the interview with Burkhart.
    Belinda Messier had come up in the investigation before. The number on the cell phone Mackey carried around was registered to her. In the briefing Kehoe and Bradshaw had given Bosch and Rider upon their arrival she was described as Burkhart’s girlfriend. She had volunteered as much when the RHD detectives had taken both of them into custody. She told them little else after that.
    Belinda Messier was a petite woman with mousy blonde hair that framed her face. Her look belied the hard case she turned out to be. She asked to see an attorney the moment Rider and Bosch entered the room.
    “Why do you want to see an attorney?” Bosch asked. “Do you think you are under arrest?”
    “Are you telling me I can leave?”
    She stood up.
    “Sit down,” Bosch said. “Roland Mackey was killed tonight and you could be in danger, too. You’re in protective custody. That means you’re not getting out of here until we get some things straight.”
    “I don’t know anything about it. I was with Billy all night until you people showed up.”
    Over the next forty-five minutes Messier gave up information only grudgingly. She explained that she knew Mackey through Burkhart and that she agreed to apply for cell phone service and turn the phone over to Mackey because he didn’t have a viable credit report. She told the detectives that Burkhart did not work and lived off a damages award he had received after a car accident two years before. He bought the house on Mariano Street with the payout and charged Mackey rent. Messier said she didn’t live in the house but spent many nights there visiting Burkhart. When asked about Burkhart and Mackey’s past ties to white power groups, she feigned surprise. When asked about the tiny swastika tattooed on the webbing between her right thumb and forefinger, she said she thought it was a Navajo good luck symbol.
    “Do you know who killed Roland Mackey?” Bosch asked after the long preamble of questions.
    “No,” she said. “He was a real nice guy. That’s all I know.”
    “What