Trunk Music

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    “Just tell him to come down. Somebody busted into his car.”
    Bosch hung up and waited. In three minutes one of the doors at the rear of the station house opened and a man hurried out. Bosch recognized him from the Archway surveillance tape. Billets had been right on. Bosch put the car in drive and followed along behind the man. Eventually, he pulled up alongside him and lowered the window.
    “Carbone.”
    “Yeah, what?”
    He kept walking, barely giving Bosch a glance.
    “Slow down. Your car’s all right.”
    Carbone stopped and now looked closely at Bosch.
    “What? What are you talking about?”
    “I made the call. I just wanted to get you out here.”
    “Who the fuck are you?”
    “I’m Bosch. We talked the other night.”
    “Oh, yeah. The Aliso caper.”
    Then it dawned on him that Bosch could have just taken the elevator up to the third floor if he wanted to see him.
    “What is this, Bosch? What’s going on?”
    “Why don’t you get in? I want to take a little ride.”
    “I don’t know, man. I don’t like the way you’re doing this.”
    “Get in, Carbone. I think you better.”
    Bosch said it in a tone and with an accompanying stare that invited no choice but compliance. Carbone, who was about forty with a stocky build, hesitated a moment, then walked around the front of the car. He was wearing a nice dark blue suit like most mob cops liked to wear and he filled the car with the smell of a brisk cologne. Right away Bosch didn’t like him.
    They drove out of the parking lot and Bosch went north toward Broadway. There was a lot of traffic and pedestrians and they moved slowly. Bosch said nothing, waiting for Carbone.
    “Okay, so what’s so important you have to kidnap me away from the station?” he finally asked.
    Bosch drove another block without answering. He wanted Carbone to sweat a little.
    “You’ve got problems, Carbone,” he finally said. “I just thought I should tell you. See, I want to be your friend, Carbone.”
    Carbone looked at Bosch with caution.
    “I know I got problems,” he said. “I’m paying two different women child support, my house still has cracks in the walls from the earthquake and the union ain’t going to get us a raise again this year. So fuckin’ what?”
    “Those aren’t problems, man. Those are inconveniences. I’m talking about real problems. About the break-in you did the other night over at Archway.”
    Carbone was silent for a long moment and Bosch wasn’t sure but he thought the man was holding his breath.
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Take me back.”
    “No, Carbone, see, that’s the wrong answer. I’m here to help you, not hurt you. I’m your friend. And that goes for your boss, Fitzgerald, too.”
    “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Okay, then I’ll tell you what I’m talking about. I called you Sunday night and asked you about my stiff named Aliso. You call me back and tell me not only is OCID taking a pass, but you never heard of the guy. But as soon as you hang up the phone, you get over to Archway, break into the guy’s office and pop the bug you people planted in his phone. That’s what I’m talking about.”
    Bosch looked over at him for the first time and he saw the face of a man whose mind is racing to find a way out. Bosch knew he had him now.
    “Bullshit, that’s what you’re talking about.”
    “Yeah, you dumb fuck? Next time you decide to do a little breaking and entering, look up. Check for cameras. Rodney King Rule Number One, don’t get caught on tape.”
    He waited a moment to let that sink in and then put the final nails in the coffin.
    “You knocked the mug off the desk and broke it. You then dumped it outside hoping nobody would notice anything. And one last thing about the rules. If you’re going to do a B amp;E in short sleeves, then you ought to get yourself a Band-Aid or somethin’ and cover up that tattoo on your arm, know what I mean? That’s a slam-bang identifier when you got it on tape. And, Carbone, you’re on tape, lots of tape.”
    Carbone wiped a hand across his face. Bosch turned on Third and they went into the tunnel that runs under Bunker Hill. In the darkness that shrouded the car, Carbone finally spoke.
    “Who knows about this?”
    “For the moment, just me. But don’t get any ideas. Anything happens to me and the tape will get known by a lot of people. But for the moment, I can probably contain it.”
    “What do you