The Overlook

kept making all the wrong moves and his fuckups kept costing people their lives. Good people. So eventually it had to stop. That captain ended up getting fragged in the latrine by some of his own men. The story was that afterward they couldn’t separate his parts from the shit.”
    Bosch walked away but Hadley stopped him.
    “What’s that supposed to mean? Is that a threat?”
    “No, it’s a story.”
    “And you’re calling that guy in there
good
people? Let me tell you, a guy like that stood up and cheered when the planes hit the buildings.”
    Bosch kept walking as he answered.
    “I don’t know what kind of people he was, Captain. I just know he wasn’t part of this and he was set up just like you. If you figure out who it was who tipped you to the car, let me know. It might help us.”
    Bosch walked over to Ferras and gave him back his phone. He told his partner to remain on the scene to supervise the forensic analysis of the Chrysler.
    “Where are you going, Harry?”
    “Downtown.”
    “What about the meeting with the bureau?”
    Bosch didn’t check his watch.
    “We missed it. Call me if SID comes up with anything.”
    Bosch left him there and started walking down the street toward the recreation center, where the car was parked.
    “Bosch, where are you going?” Hadley called. “You’re not done here!”
    Bosch waved without looking back. He kept walking. When he was halfway back to the rec center the first TV truck passed him on its way to Samir’s house.

FIFTEEN
    BOSCH WAS HOPING TO GET to the federal building downtown before news of the raid on Ramin Samir’s house did. He had tried to call Rachel Walling but got no answer. He knew that she might be at the Tactical Intelligence location but he didn’t know where that was. He only knew where the federal building was and he was banking on the idea that the growing size and importance of the investigation would dictate that it be directed from the main building and not a secret satellite office.
    He entered the building through the law enforcement door and told the U.S. marshal who checked his ID that he was going up to the FBI. He took the elevator up to the fourteenth floor and was greeted by Brenner as soon as the doors came open. The word that Bosch was in the building had obviously been sent up from below.
    “I thought you got the message,” Brenner said.
    “What message?”
    “That the status conference was canceled.”
    “I think I should’ve gotten the message as soon as you people showed up. There never was going to be a status conference, was there?”
    Brenner ignored the question.
    “Bosch, what do you want?”
    “I want to see Agent Walling.”
    “I’m her partner. Anything you want to tell her, you can tell me.”
    “Only her. I want to talk to her.”
    Brenner studied him for a moment.
    “Come with me,” he finally said.
    He didn’t wait for a reply. He used a clip-on ID card to open a door and Bosch followed him through. They went down a long hallway and Brenner threw questions over his shoulder as he walked.
    “Where’s your partner?” he asked.
    “He’s back at the crime scene,” Bosch said.
    It wasn’t a lie. Bosch just neglected to say which crime scene Ferras was at.
    “Besides,” he added, “I thought it would be safer for him there. I don’t want you people leaning on him to get to me.”
    Brenner suddenly stopped, pivoted sharply and was in Bosch’s face.
    “Do you know what you are doing, Bosch? You’re compromising an investigation that could have far-reaching implications. Where is the witness?”
    Bosch shrugged as if to say his response was obvious.
    “Where’s Alicia Kent?”
    Brenner shook his head but didn’t answer.
    “Wait in here,” he said. “I’ll go get Agent Walling.”
    Brenner opened a door that had the number 1411 on it and stepped back for Bosch to enter. As he stepped through the door Bosch saw that it was a small, windowless interview room similar to the one he had spent time in that morning with Jesse Mitford. Bosch was suddenly shoved into the room from behind and he turned just in time to see Brenner out in the hallway pulling the door closed.
    “Hey!”
    Bosch grabbed for the doorknob but it was too late. The door was locked from the outside. He pounded twice on it but knew that Brenner was not about to open it. He turned away and looked at the small space he was confined in. Similar to those at the LAPD, the interview room contained only three items of