He got out and walked between the two cars to get to Haller.
“Hello, Detective,” the lawyer said.
“Have you been drinking tonight, sir?” Ellis asked.
“Yes, I have,” Haller said. “But not enough to warrant you pulling me over.”
“Well, we received a nine-one-one call describing your car down to its vanity plate and reporting erratic, dangerous driving. We were just behind you for about five blocks and you were all over the place.”
“That’s bullshit. I saw you guys. You were the ones doing the weaving, trying to catch up to me.”
“Who were you calling? Do you know it’s illegal to talk on a cell phone while driving?”
“The answer to question one is none of your business. And as to question two, I didn’t make the call until I pulled to a stop. There’s nothing illegal about that. But do what you gotta do, Detective.”
“It’s Officer, actually. Where are you coming from?”
“Musso and Frank’s.”
“Did you eat or just drink?”
“I ate some olives, that’s for sure.”
“Can I see your driver’s license, please?”
“Sure thing. May I reach into the front inside pocket of my jacket, Officer?”
“Slowly.”
Haller retrieved his wallet and handed Ellis his driver’s license. Ellis glanced at it and then put it into his back pocket.
“We’re going to step over to the sidewalk and conduct a field sobriety test now,” he said.
“Actually, we’re not. This is an unwarranted stop and my cooperation ended with me pulling over and giving you my driver’s license.”
“You understand that not submitting to a field sobriety test or a Breathalyzer exam is cause for arrest and suspension of your driver’s license? Then we take you to the hospital and pull your blood anyway.”
“I understand that, but like I said, do what you gotta do. I’m not drunk, I’m not impaired, and I gave no cause to be pulled over. This whole thing is bullshit. You have a dash cam on that car?”
“No, sir.”
“That’s okay. There are plenty of other cameras on Hollywood Boulevard.”
“Good luck with that.”
“I don’t need luck.”
“I take it, sir, you are a lawyer.”
“That’s right. But you already knew that.”
Ellis noticed that a patrol car had pulled in behind their unmarked sedan as backup. He took the snap tie out of the pocket of his windbreaker.
“Could you bring your right hand off the car and behind your back, please?”
“Sure thing.”
Ellis used the snap tie to bind Haller’s hands behind his back. He pulled the plastic strap tight but Haller didn’t complain.
After Haller had been taken by the uniforms to the hospital for the drawing of blood, Ellis put on crime scene gloves, then took the air wedge and slim jim out of the trunk of his own car and approached the Lincoln.
Haller thought he was smart locking his keys in his car but Ellis knew he was smarter. He waited for a wave of traffic to go by and then worked the wedge into the crack between the front door’s window frame and the body of the car. He started squeezing the hand pump and the wedge slowly expanded, prying open a one-inch space. He slid the metal strip through and punched the electronic unlock button on the door’s armrest. He heard the locks pop on all four doors. He knew the alarm was now disengaged and opened the front door. He reached in and popped the trunk. He knew from previous surveillance of Haller that the lawyer worked out of his car and kept his files in the trunk. The uniforms had called the police garage to impound the car. Ellis figured that gave him at least a half hour with those files before the tow truck arrived.
He noticed the lawyer’s phone on the car seat. He leaned in and picked it up and engaged the screen but saw it was password protected and useless to him. He was about to toss it back when he saw a call coming in on it. The caller ID said it was from someone named Jennifer Aronson. He didn’t recognize the name but put it in his memory bank and threw the phone back on the seat.
He closed the front door and opened the back. Leaning in and looking around, he saw a briefcase on the floor behind the driver’s seat. He opened it on the seat and looked through its contents. There were three legal pads with illegible notes on each of them. Different cases got separate legal pads. There was also a stack of business cards bundled with a rubber band. Nothing else of note. Ellis closed the case and put it back down on the floor. He backed out and closed the door.
As he went to the trunk, he checked his partner in the plain-wrap, who was monitoring the police radio. Long gave Ellis a thumbs-up. All was good. Ellis nodded.
In the trunk he saw three long cardboard file boxes sitting side by side. The mother lode. He quickly ticked his latexed finger over the tabs until he reached one marked Foster.
“Bingo,” he said.
10
The door to his daughter’s room was closed but Bosch saw the light on underneath it. He tapped lightly.
“Hey, I’m home,” he said.
“Hi, Dad,” she called back.
He waited for an invite. Nothing. He knocked again.
“Can I come in?”
“Sure. It’s unlocked.”
He opened the door. She was standing by the end of the bed, bent over and shoving a sleeping bag into a large, wheeled duffel bag. The trip wasn’t for a few days but she was putting together everything that was on the list they gave her at school.
“Did you eat yet?” he asked. “I brought some stuff from Panera.”
“I ate already,” she said. “I didn’t hear from you, so I made tuna.”
“You could have texted.”
“You could have texted too.”
Bosch decided not to go further into their communication practices. He didn’t want to set things off. He pointed at the duffel bag and the array of camping supplies spread on the floor of the room.
“So are you excited?” he asked.
“Not really,” she said. “I don’t know how to camp.”
He wondered if that was a criticism of him. He had never taken her camping. He had never been taken camping, unless his time sleeping in tents and holes in Vietnam counted.
“Well,” he said, “you’ll learn now. You’ll be with friends and it will be fun.”
“All people I’ll probably never see again after I graduate,” she said. “I don’t know why we — All I’m saying is this should be an optional camping trip. Not required.”
Bosch nodded. She was in a mood that would grow darker with every effort he made to cheer her up. He had been down this path before.
“Well, I’ve got some reading to do,” he said. “Good night, baby.”
“Good night, Dad.”
He stepped over and kissed her on the top of the head. He then gestured to the huge gray duffel bag on the floor.
“You should probably carry the sleeping bag separate,” he said. “It will take up too much room in there.”
“No,” she said curtly. “They said everything has to be in one duffel bag and this is the biggest one I could find.”
“Okay, sorry.”
“Dad, how much have you had to drink, anyway?”
“One martini. With your uncle. I left, he didn’t.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I left. I have work to do. Look, good night. Okay?”
“Good night.”
Bosch closed the door as he left the room. He reminded himself that his daughter was at a point in her life with a lot of stressors. She was learning to deal with them, but he was often the target when she let them out. He couldn’t blame her or feel bad. But knowing that was the easy part.
He did feel bad about throwing Uncle Mickey under the bus. He went into the kitchen to eat by himself.