“Yep,” Rider said. “And we bring in the Kincaids. Fuck their big mansion on the hill. We have enough already to bring them in for questioning on the child abuse. We separate them and sweat them in the rooms. We go for the wife and get a confession. Get her to waive spousal privilege and give us her husband, that rat bastard.”

“You’re talking about a very powerful and politically connected family.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the car czar.”

Bosch checked her look to make sure she was kidding.

“I’m afraid of moving too fast and blowing it. We’ve got nothing that directly links anybody to Stacey Kincaid or Howard Elias. If we bring mom down here and don’t turn her, then we watch the car czar drive away. That’s what I’m afraid of, okay?”

Rider nodded.

“She’s dying to be turned,” Edgar said. “Why else send those notes to Elias?”

Bosch put his elbows on the desk and washed his face with his hands as he thought about things. He had to make a decision.

“What about Charlotte’s Web Site?” he asked, his face still covered by his hands. “What do we do with that?”

“We give that to Inglert and the O’Connors,” Rider said. “They’ll jump all over it. Like I said, they’ll be able to trace the good guy list to the users. They’ll identify them and take them down. We’re talking multiple arrests of an Internet pedophile ring. That’s just for starters. The DA might want to try to link them all to the homicides.”

“They’re probably all over the country,” Edgar said. “Not just L.A.”

“They might be all over the world but it won’t matter. Our people will work with the bureau on it.”

More silence passed by and Bosch finally dropped his hands to the desk. He’d made his decision.

“Okay,” he said. “You two stay here and work on the search warrants. I want them ready to go tonight, in case we decide to move. We want all weapons, computer equipment – you know what to do. I want warrants for the old house, which they still own, as well as the new house, all cars and Kincaid’s office. Also, Jerry, see what you can find out about the security guy.”

“D.C. Richter, will do. What – ”

“In fact, on the warrants, write up one for his car.”

“What’s the PC?” Rider asked.

Bosch thought a moment. He knew what he wanted but he needed a legal means of getting there.

“Just say that as Kincaid’s director of security it is believed that his vehicle may have been used in the commission of crimes relating to Stacey Kincaid.”

“That’s not probable cause, Harry.”

“We stick the warrant in with the other ones,” he said. “Maybe the judge won’t care after he’s read what is in them. In fact, check the judge list. Let’s take these to a woman.”

Rider smiled and said, “Aren’t we sly?”

“What are you going to be doing, Harry?” Edgar asked.

“I’m going downtown to talk to Irving and Lindell, tell them what we got and see how they want to play it.”

Bosch looked at Rider and now saw disappointment.

“Harry, this isn’t like you,” she said. “You know that if you go to Irving he’ll take the conservative route. He won’t let us move until we’ve nailed down every possibility.”

Bosch nodded and said, “Normally, that would be true. But these aren’t normal times. He wants to prevent the city from burning. Going with this, and going fast, might be the way. Irving’s smart enough to see that.”

“You have too much faith in human nature,” she said.

“What are you talking about?”

“The best way of cooling this city off is to arrest a cop. Irving’s already down there with Sheehan in the box. He isn’t going to want to hear this, Harry.”

“You think that if you arrest the car czar and say he did Elias that everybody will believe you and be cool,” Edgar added. “You don’t understand. There are people out there who need this to be a cop and they won’t listen to anything else. Irving’s smart enough to see that, too.”

Bosch thought of Sheehan downtown at Parker Center in a room. He was being measured as the department’s sacrificial lamb.

“Just work on the warrants,” he said. “I’ll worry about the rest.”

BOSCH looked out the window and down at the protesters lining the sidewalks in front of Parker Center and across Los Angeles Street. They moved in orderly lines, carrying signs that said JUSTICE NOW on one side and JUSTICE FOR HOWARD ELIAS on the other. The duplication of the signs attested to the careful orchestration of the protest for the benefit of the media. Bosch saw Reverend Preston Tuggins was one of the marchers. As he walked, reporters walked along with him, sticking microphones in front of him and focusing cameras at his face. Bosch didn’t see any signs that said anything about Catalina Perez.

“Detective Bosch,” Deputy Chief Irving said from behind him. “Run it down for us. You’ve told us what information you’ve accumulated. Now put it into perspective. Tell us what you think it means.”

Bosch turned around. He looked at Irving, then at Lindell. They were in Irving’s office. Irving was ensconced behind his desk, sitting ramrod straight in his full uniform – an indication he would be appearing at a press conference later. Lindell sat in one of the chairs across the desk. Bosch had just recounted for them what Rider had come up with and the steps his team had taken to that point. Irving now wanted his interpretation of it all.

Bosch composed his thoughts as he stepped back to the desk and took the seat next to Lindell.

“I think Sam Kincaid killed his stepdaughter or had something to do with it. There never was an abduction. That was the story he cooked up. Then he got lucky. He caught a big break when those fingerprints happened to point to Harris. After that was discovered he was practically home free.”

“Start at the start.”

“Okay. You start with Kincaid being a pedophile. He married Kate six years ago, probably as a cover. And to get at her daughter. The girl’s body was too decomposed for the coroner to determine if there was indication of long-term sexual abuse. But I’m saying there was. And at – ”

“The mother knew?”

“I don’t know. She found out at some point but when that was is the question.”

“Go on. Sorry to interrupt.”

“Something happened last summer. Maybe the girl threatened to tell someone – her mother, if she didn’t know yet – or maybe go to the authorities. Or maybe Kincaid simply grew tired of her. Pedophiles target a specific age group. They’re not interested in children older than their target group. Stacey Kincaid was about to turn twelve. She may have been too old for her stepfather’s… tastes. If she was no longer of use to him in that way, she was only a danger to him.”

“This conversation is turning my stomach, Detective. We are talking about an eleven-year-old girl.”

“What do you want me to do about it, Chief? It’s turning mine, too. I’ve seen the pictures.”

“Then move on please.”

“So something happened and he killed her. He hid the body and jimmied the window. He then let events take place. In the morning the mother finds her gone and calls the cops. The abduction story starts to unfold.”

“He then gets lucky,” Lindell said.

“Right. He catches a nice piece of luck. Of all the prints collected in the girl’s room and the rest of the house, the computer spits out a match with Michael Harris, ex-convict and all-around dirtbag. RHD was off to the races then. Like they were wearing blinders. They dropped everything and Harris became the only focus. They picked him up and did their thing with him. Only a funny thing happened on the way to a conviction. Harris didn’t confess and there was no other evidence to go with those fingerprints. Meantime, Harris’s name was leaked to the media. It became known that the cops had a suspect. Kincaid found out where Harris lived – maybe he got it from a friendly cop who was just keeping the parents of the victim informed. However it happened, he knew where Harris lived. He went to the spot where he’d hidden the body and moved it. My guess is that it was in the trunk of a car all along. Probably on one of his car lots. Anyway, he took the body to Harris’s neighborhood and dumped it in a trash lot a couple blocks from the suspect’s apartment. When it was found the next morning, the cops finally had another piece of evidence – circumstantial as it was – to go with the fingerprints. But all Harris was was a patsy.”