“It’s nothing to worry about, Margie. He was staying with me tonight and I had to go out. I just got home and he isn’t here. I’m just trying to figure out where he went. He talked to you tonight?”

“Earlier.”

“How’d he seem, okay?”

“He told me what they did to him. How they’re trying to blame him.”

“No, not anymore. That’s why he’s staying with me. We got him out of there and he’s going to hide out here a few days, till it blows over. I’m really sorry that I woke — ”

“He said they’d come back for him.”

“What?”

“He doesn’t believe they’re going to let him go. He doesn’t trust anybody, Harry. In the department. Except you. He knows you’re his friend.”

Bosch was silent. He wasn’t sure what to say.

“Harry, find him, would you? Then call me back. I don’t care what time it is.”

Bosch looked through the glass doors to the deck and from this angle saw something on the deck railing. He stepped over to the wall and flipped on the outside light. He saw five amber beer bottles lined up on the railing.

“Okay, Margie. Give me your number.”

He took the number and was about to hang up when she spoke again.

“Harry, he told me you got married and divorced already.”

“Well, I’m not divorced but . . . you know.”

“Yes, I know. Take care, Harry. Find Francis and then one of you call me back.”

“Okay.”

He put down the phone, opened the slider and went out onto the deck. The beer bottles were empty. He turned to his right and there, lying on the chaise lounge, was the body of Francis Sheehan. Hair and blood were splattered on the cushion above his head and on the wall next to the slider.

“Jesus,” Bosch whispered out loud.

He stepped closer. Sheehan’s mouth was open. Blood had pooled in it and spilled over his bottom lip. There was a saucer-sized exit wound at the crown of his head. Rain had matted the hair down, exposing the horrible wound even more. Bosch took one step back and looked around the deck planking. He saw a pistol lying just in front of the lounge’s front left leg.

Bosch stepped forward again and looked down at his friend’s body. He blew his breath out with a loud animal-like sound.

“Frankie,” he whispered.

A question went through his mind but he didn’t say it out loud.

Did I do this?