After disconnecting he stood in the kitchen doorway and looked at Kate Kincaid. Her back was to him and she seemed to be staring at the spot where he had been sitting across from her. She didn’t move.

“Okay,” Bosch said, as he came back into the room. “Can I get you something? A glass of water?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine.”

He turned the tape recorder on and once again identified himself and the subject of the interview. He gave the exact time and date as well.

“You have been advised of your rights, correct, Mrs. Kincaid?”

“Yes, I have.”

“Would you like to continue the interview?”

“Yes.”

“You mentioned earlier that you decided to help Howard Elias. Why is that?”

“He was suing on behalf of Michael Harris. I wanted Michael Harris completely exonerated. And I wanted my husband and his friends exposed. I knew the authorities probably wouldn’t do it. But I knew Howard Elias was not part of that establishment. He wouldn’t be controlled by money and power. Only the truth.”

“Did you ever speak with Mr. Elias directly?”

“No. I thought my husband might be watching me. After that day when I heard them, when I knew it was him, it was impossible for me not to be completely repulsed by him. I think he realized I had come to a conclusion. I think he had Richter watch me. Richter or people working for him.”

Bosch realized that Richter could be nearby, having followed her to the house. Lindell had said the security man’s whereabouts were currently unknown. He looked at the front door and realized he had left it unlocked.

“So you sent Elias notes.”

“Yes, anonymous. I guess I wanted him to expose these people but leave me out of it . . . I know it was selfish. I was a horrible mother. I guess I had this fantasy that the bad men would be shown to the world without it happening to the bad woman.”

Bosch saw a lot of pain in her eyes as she said it. He waited for the tears to start again but it didn’t happen.

“I just have a few more questions at this point,” he said. “How did you know the web page address and about how to get to the secret site?”

“You mean Charlotte’s Web? My husband is not a smart man, Detective Bosch. He is rich, and that always gives the appearance of intellect. He wrote the directions down so he wouldn’t have to memorize them and he hid them in his desk. I found them. I know how to use a computer. I went to that awful place . . . I saw Stacey there.”

Again no tears. Bosch was puzzled. Kate Kincaid had dropped her voice into a monotone. She was reciting the story, it seemed, out of duty. But whatever impact it personally had on her was done with and compartmentalized, put away from the surface.