“You’ve been running a game on me for two days. Spinning bullshit about bribes and the FBI. You’ve been trying to manipulate me and it’s been a waste of my time. You have to go now, Detective, because I have real work to do.”

I stood up and extended a hand toward the door. Bosch stood up but didn’t turn to go.

“Don’t kid yourself, Haller. Don’t make a mistake.”

“Thanks for the advice.”

Bosch finally turned and started to leave. But then he stopped and came back to the desk, pulling something from the inside pocket of his jacket as he approached.

It was a photograph. He put it down on the desk.

“You recognize that man?” Bosch asked.

I studied the photo. It was a grainy still taken off a video. It showed a man pushing out through the front door of an office building.

“This is the front entrance of the Legal Center, isn’t it?”

“Do you recognize him?”

The shot was taken at a distance and blown up, spreading the pixels of the image and making it unclear. The man in the photograph looked to me to be of Latin origin. He had dark skin and hair and had a Poncho Villa mustache, like Cisco used to wear. He wore a panama hat and an open-collared shirt beneath what appeared to be a leather sport coat. As I looked more closely at the photograph, I realized why it was the frame they had chosen to take from the surveillance video. The man’s jacket had pulled open as he’d pushed through the glass door. I could see what looked like the top of a pistol tucked into the belt line of his pants.

“Is that a gun? Is this the killer?”

“Look, can you answer one goddamn question without another question? Do you recognize this man? That’s all I want to know.”

“No, I don’t, Detective. Happy?”

“That’s another question.”

“Sorry.”

“You sure you haven’t seen him before?”

“Not a hundred percent. But that’s not a great photo you’ve got there. Where is it from?”

“A street camera on Broadway and Second. It sweeps the street and we got this guy for only a few seconds. This is the best we can do.”

I knew that the city had been quietly installing street cameras on main arteries in the last few years. Streets like Hollywood Boulevard were completely visually wired. Broadway would have been a likely candidate. It was always crowded during the day with pedestrians and traffic. It was also the street used most often for protest marches organized by the underclasses.

“Well, then I guess it’s better than having nothing. You think the hair and the mustache are a disguise?”

“Let me ask the questions. Could this guy be one of your new clients?”