“No, he just asked for it, you know. I said sure and got it for him. But he gave me the date and you didn’t. I don’t remember it. Anyway, look, if you want to ask more about this then maybe you better call our lawyer. I’m not going to get involved in talking about stuff I don’t — ”

“Never mind that stuff,” Bosch said. “Tell me about Michael Harris.”

“What’s to tell? I never had a problem with the guy. He was okay, then they came in and said he killed that little girl. And did things to her. It didn’t seem like the guy I knew. But he hadn’t been working here that long. Maybe five months.”

“Know where he was before that?” Edgar asked.

“Yeah. Up at Corcoran.”

Corcoran was a state prison near Bakersfield. Bosch thanked the manager and they left. He took a few sips of his coffee but dumped it in a trash can before getting back to the car.

While Bosch waited at the passenger door for it to be unlocked, Edgar went around to his side. He stopped before opening the door.

“Goddammit.”

“What?”

“They wrote shit on the door.”

Bosch came around and looked. Someone had used light blue chalk — the chalk used to write washing instructions on the windshields of clients’ cars — to cross out the words To protect and serve on the driver’s side front fender. Then written in large letters were the words To murder and maim. Bosch nodded his approval.

“That’s pretty original.”

“Harry, let’s go kick some ass.”

“No, Jerry, let it go. You don’t want to start something. It might take three days to end it. Like last time. Like Florence and Normandie.”

Edgar sullenly unlocked the car and then opened Bosch’s door.

“We’re right by the station,” Bosch said after he got in. “We can go back and spray it off. Or we can use my car.”

“I’d like to use one of those assholes’ faces to clean it off.”

After they had the car cleaned up there was still time for them to drive by the lot where Stacey Kincaid’s body had been found. It was off Western and was on the way downtown, where they would go to meet Pelfry.

Edgar was silent the whole way there. He had taken the vandalism of the patrol car personally. Bosch didn’t mind the silence, though. He used the time to think about Eleanor. He felt guilty because deep down and despite his love for her, he knew that he was feeling a growing relief that their relationship was coming to a head, one way or the other.

“This is it,” Edgar said.