“Everything’s been done before. But what do you think?”
Bosch was saved by the bell. In the silence after Said’s question they both could hear the secretary talking to someone in the next room. Then the speakerphone on Said’s desk beeped and the secretary said, “Ms. Crowe is here. She will be waiting in the conference room.”
Bosch nodded at Said.
“Thanks, Nuff,” he whispered. “I’ll take it from here.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ll let you know if I need any help.”
He turned to the office door but then went back to the desk and put out his hand.
“I may have to split kind of fast. So I’ll say good-bye. Good luck with that project. Sounds like another winner.”
They shook hands.
“Yes, we shall see,” Said said.
Bosch left the office and crossed a small hallway and entered the conference room. There was a square, glass-topped table at center with a chair on each side. Annabelle Crowe sat in the chair on the side opposite the door. She was studying a black-and-white photograph of herself as Bosch entered. She looked up with a bright smile and perfect teeth. The smile held for a little longer than a second and then crashed off her face like a Malibu mudslide.
“What – what are you doing here?”
“Hello, Annabelle, how’ve you been?”
“This is an audition – you can’t just -”
“You’re right, this is an audition. I am auditioning you for the role of witness in a murder trial.”
The woman stood up. Her head shot and a résumé slipped off the table to the floor.
“You can’t just – what is going on here?”
“You know what is going on. You moved and left no forwarding. Your parents wouldn’t help. Your agent wouldn’t help me. The only way I could get to you was to set up an audition. Now sit down and we’re going to talk about where you’ve been and why you’re ducking the trial.”
“So there is no part?”
Bosch almost laughed. She still didn’t get it.
“No, no part.”
“And they’re not remaking Chinatown?”
This time he did laugh but quickly covered.
“One of these days they’ll get around to it. But you’re too young for the part and I’m no Jake Gittes. Sit down, please.”
Bosch started to pull out the chair opposite hers. But she refused to sit down. She looked very put out. She was a beautiful young woman with a face that often got her what she wanted. But not this time.
“I said sit down,” Bosch said sternly. “You have to understand something here, Miss Crowe. You broke the law when you did not respond to a court-issued subpoena to appear today. That means if I want, I can just place you under arrest and we can talk about this in lockup. Or the alternative is that we sit down here because they’re letting us use the nice room and talk about this in a civilized manner. Your choice, Annabelle.”
She dropped back into her chair. Her mouth was a thin, tight line. The lipstick she had carefully painted on for a casting session was already starting to crack and wear. Bosch studied her for a long moment before beginning.
“Who got to you, Annabelle?”
She looked at him sharply.
“Look,” she said, “I was scared, okay? I still am. David Storey is a powerful man. He has some scary people behind him.”
Bosch leaned across the table.
“Are you saying you were threatened by him? By them?”
“No, I am not saying that. They didn’t need to threaten me. I know the picture.”
Bosch leaned back away from her and quietly studied her. Her eyes moved everywhere around the room but to him. The traffic noise from out on Sunset filtered through the room’s one closed window. Somewhere in the building a toilet was flushed. Finally, she looked at Bosch.
“What? What do you want?”
“I want you to testify. I want you to make a stand against this guy. For what he tried to do to you. For Jody Krementz. And Alicia Lopez.”
“Who is Alicia Lopez?”
“Another one we found. She wasn’t lucky like you.”
Bosch could read the turmoil on her face. She clearly viewed testifying as some sort of danger.
“If I testify I’ll never work again. And maybe worse.”
“Who told you that?”
She didn’t answer.
“Come on, who? Did that come from them, your agent, who?”
She hesitated and then shook her head as if she couldn’t believe she was talking to him.
“I was working out at Crunch and I was on a Stairmaster and this guy got on the machine next to me. He was reading the newspaper. It was folded to the story he was reading. And I was minding my own business when suddenly he just started talking. He never looked at me. He just talked while he was looking down at the newspaper. He said the story he was reading was about the David Storey trial and how he’d hate to be a witness who went against him. He said that person would never work in this town again.”
She stopped but Bosch waited. He studied her. Her anguish in recounting the story seemed genuine. She was on the verge of tears.
“And I… I got so panicked with him right there next to me I just got off the machine and ran into the locker room. I stayed in there for an hour and even then I was scared that he might still be out there waiting for me. Watching me.”
She started crying. Bosch got up and left the room and looked into the bathroom in the hallway. There was a box of tissues. He took it back with him to the conference room and handed it to Annabelle Crowe. He sat back down.
“Where is Crunch?”
“Just down the street from here. Sunset and Crescent Heights.”
Bosch nodded. He knew where it was now. The same shopping and entertainment complex where Jody Krementz had met David Storey in a coffee shop. He wondered if there was a connection. Maybe Storey belonged to Crunch. Maybe he got a workout pal to threaten Annabelle Crowe.
“Did you get a look at the guy?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t know who he was. I never saw him before or since.”
Bosch thought about Rudy Tafero.
“Do you know who the defense team’s investigator is? A guy named Rudy Tafero? He’s tall, black hair and a nice tan. Good-looking guy?”
“I don’t know who that is but he’s not the man who was there that day. This man was short and bald. He had glasses.”
The description didn’t register with Bosch. He decided to let it go for the time being. He’d have to let Langwiser and Kretzler know about the threat. They might want to take it to Judge Houghton. They might want to have Bosch go to Crunch and start asking questions, see if he could confirm anything.
“So what are you going to do?” she asked. “Are you going to make me testify?”
“It’s not up to me. The prosecutors will decide after I tell them your story.”
“Do you believe it?”
Bosch hesitated and then nodded.
“You still have to show up. You’re under subpoena. Be there between twelve and one tomorrow and they’ll let you know what they want to do.”
Bosch knew that they would make her testify. They wouldn’t care if the threat was real or not. They had the case to worry about. Annabelle Crowe would be sacrificed to get David Storey. A small fish to get a big fish, the name of the game.
Bosch made her empty her purse. He looked through her things and found an address and phone number written down. It was a temp apartment in Burbank. She admitted that she had put her belongings in storage and was living in the temp, waiting for the trial to be over.
“I’m going to give you a break, Annabelle, and not hold you in lockup overnight. But I found you this time and I can find you again. You don’t show up tomorrow and I’ll come looking for you. And you’ll go right to lockup at Sybil Brand, you understand that?”
She nodded her head.
“You going to be there?”
She nodded again.
“I should’ve never come to you people.”
Bosch nodded. She was right.