“What I want is something from the Republican Guard. You know anybody with that stuff? This is the reason I stop at the VFW every time I’m in a new town. This is where I find this stuff. I got the tanto off an old guy I met in the post bar over in Tempe. That was like twenty years ago.”

Banks nodded, trying to follow the words through his growing alcoholic fog.

“Well . . . I know guys. They got all kinds of stuff back here. Guns, uniforms, whatever you want. But you gotta pay and you can start by buyin’ the fuckin’ Gator you spent all day lookin’ at.”

Bosch nodded.

“I hear ya. We can talk about that. I’ll come on back by the dealership tomorrow. How’s that?”

“Now you’re talking, partner.”

Chapter 30

30

Bosch managed to get out of the VFW without buying Banks a drink and apparently without Banks noticing that Bosch drank less than half of his beer. Once back in his car, Bosch drove to the far end of the parking lot, where there was a boat ramp providing access to the river. He parked next to a line of pickup trucks with empty boat trailers attached. He waited another twenty minutes before Banks finally came out of the bar and got into his car.

Bosch had seen him put down three drinks in the bar. He assumed there had been one before he got there and at least one after. His concern was that if Banks showed obvious evidence of driving impairment, Bosch would have to pull him over too soon to stop him from possibly hurting himself and others.

But Banks was a skilled drunk driver. He pulled out and started east on Hatch, back the way he had come. Bosch followed from a distance but kept his eyes on the taillights in front of him. He saw no swerving, speeding, or unexplained braking. Banks appeared to have control of his car.

Nevertheless, it was a tense ten minutes as Bosch followed Banks to the entrance ramp to the 99 freeway, where he headed north. Once they were on the freeway, Bosch narrowed the gap and pulled up right behind Banks. Five minutes later, they passed the Hammett Road exit and then came to the sign that welcomed travelers to San Joaquin County. Bosch put the strobe light on the dashboard and turned it on. He closed the space between the two cars even more and flicked on the bright lights, illuminating the interior of Banks’s car. Bosch had no siren but there was no way Banks could miss the light show behind him. After a few seconds, Banks put on his right-turn signal.