“Okay, let’s go up and do what we can up there.”

They moved to the elevator, which was an open wrought-iron cage with ornate flourishes and polished brass trim.

“Why don’t you take the ladies up first,” Bosch said to Dellacroce. “We’ll come up after. That ought to distribute the weight pretty evenly.”

He took Elias’s key ring out of his pocket and handed it to Rider.

“The office key should be on there,” he said. “And never mind about that other thing with Harris for the time being. Let’s see what we’ve got in the office first.”

“Sure, Harry.”

They got on and Dellacroce pulled the accordion gate closed. The elevator rose with a jerking motion. After it was up one floor and those on it could not see them, Bosch turned to Chastain. The anger and frustration of everything going wrong flooded him then. He dropped his briefcase and with both hands grabbed Chastain by the collar of his jacket. He roughly pushed him against the elevator cage and spoke in a low, dark voice that was full of rage.

“Goddammit, Chastain, I’m only asking this one time. Where’s the fucking phone book?”

Chastain’s face flushed crimson and his eyes grew wide in shock.

“What? What the fuck are you talking about?”

He brought his hands up to Bosch’s and tried to free himself but Bosch maintained the pressure, leaning all of his weight into the other man.

“The phone book in the apartment. I know you took it and I want it back. Right the fuck now.”

Finally, Chastain tore himself loose. His jacket and shirt and tie were wrenched askew. He stepped away from Bosch as if he was scared and adjusted himself. He then pointed a finger at him.

“Stay away from me! You’re fucking nuts! I don’t have any phone book. You had it. I saw you put it in the goddamn drawer next to the bed.”

Bosch took a step toward him.

“You took it. When I was on the bal — ”

“I said stay away! I didn’t take it. If it’s not there, then somebody came in and took it after we left.”

Bosch stopped. It was an obvious explanation but it hadn’t even entered his mind. He had automatically thought of Chastain. He looked down at the tiles, embarrassed by how he’d let an old animosity cloud his judgment. He could hear the elevator gate opening on the fifth floor. He raised his eyes, fixed Chastain with a bloodless stare and pointed at his face.

“I find out otherwise, Chastain, I promise I’ll take you apart.”

“Fuck you! I didn’t take the book. But I am going to take your badge for this.”

Bosch smiled but not in a way that had any warmth.

“Go ahead. Write your ticket, Chastain. Anytime you can take my badge you can have it.”

Chapter 11

Chapter 11