Angle of Investigation: Three Harry Bosch Short Stories by Michael Connelly Read Free Book Online Page B

that?”
    “I don’t know. Is it true?”
    “No, it’s not true.”
    “She told us she was worried that this wasn’t an accident.”
    “That’s absolutely crazy and I doubt she said it. You are lying.”
    He turned in his seat so that the front of his body faced the corner of the room and he would have to turn his face to look directly at Bosch. Another tell. Bosch knew he was zeroing in. He decided it was the right time to gamble.
    “She mentioned a story you found in the L.A. Times that was about a kid left in a car up in Lancaster. The kid died of heatstroke. She was worried that it gave you the idea.”
    Helton swiveled in his seat and leaned forward to put his elbows on the table and run his hands through his hair.
    “Oh, my God, I can’t believe she…”
    He didn’t finish. Bosch knew his gamble had paid off. Helton’s mind was racing along the edge. It was time to push him over.
    “You didn’t forget that William was in the car, did you, Stephen?”
    Helton didn’t answer. He buried his face in his hands again. Bosch leaned forward so that he only had to whisper.
    “You left him there and you knew what was going to happen. You planned it. That’s why you didn’t bother running ads for a new nanny. You knew you weren’t going to need one.”
    Helton remained silent and unmoving. Bosch kept working him, changing tacks and offering sympathy now.
    “It’s understandable,” he said. “I mean, what kind of life would that kid have had anyway? Some might even call this a mercy killing. The kid falls asleep and never wakes up. I’ve worked these kinds of cases before, Stephen. It’s actually not a bad way to go. It sounds bad but it isn’t. You just get tired and you go to sleep.”
    Helton kept his face in his hands but he shook his head. Bosch didn’t know if he was denying it still or shaking off something else. He waited and the delay paid off.
    “It was her idea,” Helton said in a quiet voice. “She’s the one who couldn’t take it anymore.”
    In that moment Bosch knew he had him but he showed nothing. He kept working it.
    “Wait a minute,” he said. “She said she had nothing to do with it, that this was your idea and your plan and that when she called you it was to talk you out of it.”
    Helton dropped his hands with a slap on the table.
    “That’s a lie! It was her! She was embarrassed that we had a kid like that! She couldn’t take him anywhere and we couldn’t go anywhere! He was ruining our lives and she told me I had to do something about it! She told me ho e told w to do something about it! She said I would be saving two lives while sacrificing only one.”
    Bosch pulled back across the table. It was done. It was over.
    “Okay, Stephen, I think I understand. And I want to hear all about it. But at this point I need to inform you of your rights. After that, if you want to talk, we’ll talk and I’ll listen.”
    When Bosch came out of the interview room Ignacio Ferras was there waiting for him in the hallway. His partner raised his fist and Bosch tapped his knuckles with his own fist.
    “That was beautiful,” Ferras said. “You walked him right down the road.”
    “Thanks,” Bosch said. “Let’s hope the DA is impressed, too.”
    “I don’t think we’ll have to worry.”
    “Well, there will be no worries if you go into the other room and turn the wife now.”
    Ferras looked surprised.
    “You still want me to take the wife?”
    “She’s yours. Let’s walk them into the DA as bookends.”
    “I’ll do my best.”
    “Good. Go check the equipment and make sure we’re still recording in there. I’ve got to go make a quick call.”
    “You got it, Harry.”
    Bosch walked into the squad room and sat down at his desk. He checked his watch and knew it would be early in Hong Kong. He pulled out his cell phone anyway, and sent a call across the Pacific.
    His daughter answered with a cheerful hello. Bosch knew he wouldn’t even have to say anything and he would