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.There was an end-of-the-world gloom about it all.The city had been tested by fire first and now rain.Living in L.A.sometimes felt like you were riding shotgun with the devil to the apocalypse.People I saw that morning carried a what's-next look in their eyes.Earthquake? Tsunami? Or maybe a disaster of our own making? A dozen years earlier fire and rain had been the harbingers of both tectonic and social upheaval in the City of Angels.I didn't think there was anybody here who doubted it could happen again.If we are doomed to repeat ourselves in our follies and mistakes, then it is easy to see nature and balance operating on the same cycle.I thought about this as I waited for Rachel at the curb outside the terminal.The rain pounded the windshield, turning it translucent and murky.The wind rocked the car on its springs.I thought about rejoining the cops, already second-guessing my decision and wondering if I would be repeating myself in folly or if I had a chance this time at grace.I didn't see Rachel in the rain until she knocked on the passenger-side window.She then opened the back hatch and threw in her bag.She was wearing a green parka with the hood up.It must have done her well facing the elements in the Dakotas but it looked too large and bulky on her in L.A."This better be good, Bosch," she said as she climbed in and dropped wetly onto the passenger seat.She showed no outward sign of affection and neither did I.It was one of the agreements we'd made on the phone.We were to act as professionals until we played my hunch out."Why, you got alternatives?""No, it's just that I put everything on the line last night with Alpert.I'm one fuckup short of a permanent posting in South Dakota, where, by the way, the weather might actually be nicer than this.""Well, welcome to L.A.""I thought this was Burbank.""Technically."After we cleared the airport I dropped down to the 134 and took that east to the 5.Between the rain and the morning rash hour our progress was slow as we skirted around Griffith Park and pointed south.I wasn't ready to begin worrying about time yet but I was getting close.For a long time we rode silently because the mix of rain and traffic made the drive intense, probably more so for Rachel who had to sit and do nothing while I had control of the wheel.Finally she spoke, if only to siphon off some of the tension in the car."So are you going to tell me this grand plan of yours?""No plan, just a hunch.""No, you said you knew his next move, Bosch."I noticed that since we had made love on the bed of my efficiency unit she had started calling me by my last name.I wondered if this was part of the agreement to act as professionals or some form of reverse endearment, calling someone you had been most intimate with by his least intimate name."I had to get you here, Rachel.""Well, all right then, I'm here.Tell it to me.""It's the Poet who has the grand plan.Backus.""What's he going to do?""Remember the books I told you about yesterday, the books in the barrel and the one I pulled out?""Yes.""I think I figured out what it all means."I told her about the partially burned receipt I had seen and how I thought Book Car was actually Book Carnival, the bookstore operated by retired police detective Ed Thomas, the last intended target of the Poet eight years before."You think because of this book in the fire barrel that he's here and is going to make good on the killing we took away from him eight years ago.""Exactly.""That's a stretch, Bosch.I wish you had told me all of this before I risked my ass flying over here.""There's no such thing as coincidence, especially like this.""Okay, run the story out for me, then.Give me the profile.Tell me the Poet's grand plan.""Well, that's the bureau's job, to profile crimes.I'm not going to do that.But this is what I think he's doing.I think the trailer and the explosion were all set up to look like the grand finale.And then, as soon as the director steps in front of the television cameras and says I think we've got him, he's going to take out Ed Thomas.The symbolism would be perfect.It's the grand gesture, the ultimate fuck-you.It's checkmate, Rachel.While the bureau is bragging about itself he moves in right under their noses and takes out the guy the bureau was all puffed up about saving the last time.""And why the books in the barrel? How does all of that fit in?""I think they were books he bought from Ed Thomas.From Book Carnival by mail order or maybe even in person.Maybe they were marked in some way and could be traced back to the store.He didn't want that so he burned them.He couldn't risk that they might survive the trailer blast"But then on the other end, after Ed Thomas is gone and Backus has split, the agents would find his connection to the store and would begin to see how long and how hard Backus was planning this.It would help show his genius.That's what he wants, right? I mean, you are the profiler.Tell me if I'm wrong.""I was the profiler.Right now I handle reservation crimes in the Dakotas."The traffic was starting to open up as we passed by downtown, the spires of the financial district disappearing in the upper mist of the storm.The city always looked haunting in the rain to me.There was a foreboding sense about it that always depressed me, that always made me feel like something had broken loose in the world and was wrong."There is only one thing wrong with all of that, Bosch.""What?""The director is holding a press conference today but he isn't going to say we caught the Poet.Just like you, we don't think that was Backus in that trailer.""So, Backus doesn't know that.He'll watch it on CNN like everybody else.But it won't change his plan.Either way, I say he hits Ed Thomas today.Either way, he makes his point.7 am better and smarter than you.'"She nodded and thought about that for a long moment."Okay," she finally said."What if I'm buying it? What is our play? Have you called Ed Thomas?""I don't know what our play is yet and I haven't called Ed Thomas.We're heading toward his store now.It's down in Orange and he opens up at eleven.I called and got his hours off the answering machine.""Why his store? AD the other cops Backus killed were in their homes, one in his car.""Because at the moment I don't know where Ed Thomas lives and because of the book.My guess is Backus will make his move at the bookstore.If I'm wrong and Ed doesn't show up at the store, then we find out where he lives and go there."Rachel nodded in agreement with the plan."There were three different books written on the Poet case.I read them all and they all had postscripts on the players.They said Thomas retired and opened a bookstore.I think one even named the store.""There you go."She looked at her watch."Are we going to make it there before he opens?""We'll make it.Did they set a time for the director's press conference?""Three o'clock D.C.time."I checked the dash clock.It was ten a.m.We had an hour before Ed Thomas opened for business and two hours before the press conference.If my theory and hunch were correct we would be in the presence of the Poet very soon.I was ready and I was juiced.I felt the high octane moving in my Wood.By old habit I dropped my hand off the wheel and checked my hip.I had a Glock 27 holstered there.It was illegal for me to be carrying a weapon and if I ended up using it, there could be trouble-the kind that could prevent me from rejoining the police department.But sometimes the risks you face dictate the other risks you must take [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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