“Listen to me,” Bosch said, his voice returning to an even tone. “I checked you out eight years ago. Once I figured out the date the Gallaghers disappeared, I confirmed you were on a boat in Cozumel. I got photos, verified witness accounts, credit-card statements, everything. I know that McShane waited until you were gone to do it so there would be no chance of a witness, nobody to call the police. But you know something, Sheila. You know something and now is the time to tell it. You’re in the clear legally. So it’s time to clear your conscience as well. Talk to me, Sheila. You do that, and I leave you—and your son—alone. I’ll be out of your life forever.”

She put her elbows back on the table, gripped her hands in front of her face, and looked down at the photocopy. Soon Bosch saw tears drip onto the paper.

“Time to do the right thing,” Bosch said. “Think about those beautiful children and tell me. What was McShane doing here?”

She worked her fingers against themselves and then looked up over her knuckles at Bosch. For the first time, he saw that they were haunted by something. Something she had been carrying inside.

“He was here,” she said. “He came to see me.”

Bosch nodded. It was a thank-you. It was now time to draw out the whole story.

“When?” he asked.

“Promise me,” Walsh said. “You will leave my son alone.”

“I already told you. You tell me about McShane, and I will leave you and your son alone. That is a promise.”

Walsh nodded but took a long moment to settle herself and compose the story.

“He came because he wanted money,” she finally said. “He said he had lost all of his in a bad investment. He threatened me. I gave him what he wanted, and he went away.”

“Threatened you how?”

“I promise you I didn’t know about Stephen and his family. What happened to them, I mean. But in that year that they were gone—before anyone knew—I figured out what Fin was doing to the business.”

“The bust-out?”

“What’s that?”

“Selling equipment and ordering more to be sold as well. Eventually the business collapses. But before that happened, McShane took off.”

“Whatever it’s called, I knew what he was doing. I worked at Shamrock from the beginning and knew how to read the books. At that time, we didn’t know what had happened to Stephen, but I could see the business wasn’t going to make it. I had my son to think about. So … I told Fin I wanted my cut.”

“And what was your cut?”