The Reversal

among them.
    “Okay.”
    She put her pencil down and pulled her computer front and center. Bosch checked his watch. It was almost nine.
    “Here.”
    Maddie slid the computer down the table, turning the screen toward him.
    The park was larger than Bosch had thought, running south of Mulholland and west of Coldwater Canyon Boulevard. A key in the corner of the map said it was 605 acres. Bosch hadn’t realized that there was such a large public reserve in this prime section of the Hollywood Hills. He noticed that the map had several of the hiking trails and picnic areas marked. The picnic area in the northeast section was off of Blinderman Trail. He assumed it had been misspelled in the SIS log as “blind man trailhead.”
    “What is it?”
    Harry looked at his daughter. It was her first attempt at conversation in two days. He decided not to miss it.
    “Well, we’ve been watching this guy. The Special Investigations Section. They’re the department’s surveillance experts and they’re watching this guy who just got out of prison. He killed a little girl a long time ago. And for some reason he went to this park and just sat there at a picnic table.”
    “So? Isn’t that what people do at parks?”
    “Well, this was in the middle of the night. The park was closed and he snuck in… and then he sort of just sat there.”
    “Did he grow up near the park? Maybe he’s checking out the places where he grew up.”
    “I don’t think so. We have him growing up out in Riverside County. He used to come to L.A. to surf but I haven’t found any connection to Mulholland.”
    Bosch studied the map once more and noticed there was an upper and lower entrance to the park. Jessup had gone in through the upper entrance. This would have been out of his way unless that picnic area and Blinderman Trail were specific destinations for him.
    He slid the computer back to his daughter. And checked his watch again.
    “Are you almost done your work?”
    “ Finished, Dad. Are you almost finished? Or you could say ‘done with .’ ”
    “Sorry. Are you almost finished?”
    “I have one more math problem.”
    “Good. I have to make a quick call.”
    Lieutenant Wright’s cell number was on the surveillance log. Bosch expected him to be home and annoyed with the intrusion but decided to make the call anyway. He got up and walked into the living room so he would not disturb Maddie on her last problem. He punched the number into his cell.
    “Wright, SIS.”
    “Lieutenant, it’s Harry Bosch.”
    “What’s up, Bosch?”
    He didn’t sound annoyed.
    “Sorry to intrude on you at home. I just wanted—”
    “I’m not at home, Bosch. I’m with your guy.”
    Bosch was surprised.
    “Is something wrong?”
    “No, the night shift is just more interesting.”
    “Where is he right now?”
    “We’re with him at a bar on Venice Beach called the Townhouse. You know it?”
    “I’ve been there. Is he alone?”
    “Yes and no. He came alone but he got recognized. He can’t buy a drink in there and probably has his pick of the skanks. Like I said, more interesting at night. Are you calling to check up on us?”
    “Not really. I just have a couple of things I need to ask. I’m looking at the logs and the first thing is, how can I get them sooner? I’m looking at stuff from three days ago or longer. The other thing is Franklin Canyon Park. What can you tell me about his stop there?”
    “Which one?”
    “He’s been there twice?”
    “Actually, three times. He’s gone there the last two nights after the first stop four days ago.”
    This information was very intriguing to Bosch, mostly because he had no idea what it meant.
    “What did he do the last two times?”
    Maddie got up from the dining room table and came into the living room. She sat on the couch and listened to Bosch’s side of the conversation.
    “The same thing he did the first night,” Wright said. “He sneaks in there and goes to the same picnic area. He just sits there, like he’s waiting for something.”
    “For what?”
    “You tell me, Bosch.”
    “I wish I could. Did he go at the same time each night?”
    “Give or take a half hour or so.”
    “Does he go in through the Mulholland entrance each time?”
    “That’s right. He sneaks in and picks up the same trail that takes him to the picnic area.”
    “I wonder why he doesn’t go in the other entrance. It would be easier for him to get to.”
    “Maybe he likes driving on Mulholland and seeing the