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He lowered the binoculars and stared at the house. Frustrated, he thought about sending a DoorDash delivery directly there but quickly dismissed the idea. Novak was too smart to believe that someone’s order had just been sent to the wrong address.
He started thinking about waiting till dark and climbing down to the property. But then something caught his eye and he raised the binoculars again. The sun had climbed in the sky, and now the front of the house was in direct sunlight. There was a double garage with square windows running across the top of each garage door. Sunlight was coming in at an angle, and through the windows of the door on the right, Bosch could see a vehicle.
It was a white van.
44
1965
HARRY WAS TAKEN back to MacLaren by a lady from the Bureau of Public Assistance, his meager belongings contained in two banana boxes. Along the way, the lady asked him several questions about how he had been hurt. His eye was swollen now and she could tell it was a fresh injury. The broken blood vessels under the skin had not yet even begun to turn purple.
Harry lied and blamed the cops, saying he had been roughed up when they captured him following the crash. In the car with the Public Assistance lady, he felt bad about putting the blame on the two cops who had offered him advice. But he didn’t want to risk his ex–foster father changing his mind about charging him for car theft. His hope was that the lady would drop her investigation and cover for the police.
They were greeted at MacLaren by Mr. Cerny, who told Harry that he was being placed in the same dorm he’d been assigned to previously. Harry asked to stay in the supposedly temporary sleeping quarters in the gymnasium instead, but Cerny denied the request. He also told Harry that his dishwashing job was no longer available, as another boy had taken his place.
Harry slid the banana boxes under his cot and went looking for Chops to let him know he was back. But Chops wasn’t in the dayroom, in the cafeteria, or on the baseball diamond. Harry checked the outdoor basketball court even though he knew Chops wasn’t a basketball player. He wasn’t there either.
Harry wondered if Chops had done something wrong and was serving time in the hollow.
He saw a Poe named Spencer watching over the kids on the court. He went up to him.
“Well, looky who’s back,” Spencer said. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you here again, young Bosch.”
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t planning on it myself,” Harry said. “Have you seen Chops around? He’s got my radio.”
“Chops? You mean Lamb, right?”
“Yeah, I’m looking for him.”
“Nah, man, Lamb is gone.”
“He got a ticket?”
“No, I mean he’s gone. He’s dead, man.”
Bosch was stunned.
“What?” he said. “Dead? What are you talking about?”
“I’m sorry, but he died,” Spencer said. “One morning in the gym. He never woke up. Something happened to him in the night. The detectives came out and they’re working on it. This place was on lockdown for three days. Nobody out of the dorms, nothin’.”
“When did this happen?”
“About a month ago, I guess.”
Harry felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. He was dizzy.
“Who did it?” he demanded.
“How would I know?” Spencer said. “The sheriffs are handling it.”
Harry turned and walked away, striding across the court, oblivious to the pickup three-on-three game he moved through the middle of. He walked directly to the far wall at the end of the rec field. There was no one there. He was alone. He put his back against the wall and slid down to the ground. He had that feeling inside of him again. That hollow feeling, like nothing would ever fill it.
He started to cry.
45
BOSCH SHOULD HAVE called Cutler at the task force or, at the very least, Shear, as he had promised. Or he should have orchestrated the LAPD’s capture of a wanted fugitive who knew where weapons of mass destruction were hidden. But he did none of those things. Instead, he kept watch on the house at the end of Lakeridge Drive and waited for darkness.