Город костей

He couldn't do it. There was a piece missing from the equation. He knew that at some level and at some place it all made sense. He was confident he would get there, if he had enough time.

At four-thirty Bosch banged through the back door into the station house carrying the file box containing the skateboard. He was heading quickly down the hallway to the squad room, when Mankiewicz ducked his head into the hallway from the watch office.

"Hey, Harry?"

Bosch looked back at him but kept walking.

"What's up?"

"I heard the news. We're gonna miss you around here."

The word traveled fast. Bosch held the box with his right arm and raised his left hand palm down and made a sweeping gesture across the flat surface of an imaginary ocean. It was a gesture usually reserved for drivers of patrol cars passing on the street. It said, Smooth sailing to vou, brother. Bosch kept going.

Edgar had a large white board lying flat across his desk and covering most of Bosch's as well. He had drawn what looked like a thermometer on it. It was Wonderland Avenue, the turnaround circle at the end being the bulb at the bottom of the

thermometer_

временные рамки и имевшиеся в их распоряжении сведения. Ничего не получалось. Не хватало части уравнения. Он знал, что где-то, на каком-то уровне, все просто и ясно. И не сомневался, что вышел бы на этот уровень, будь у него время.

В половине пятого Босх внес через заднюю дверь в участок картонный ящик со скейтбордом.

Быстро пошел по коридору к сыскному отделу, и тут Манкевич выглянул из дежурной части:

- Эй, Гарри?

Босх, не останавливаясь, обернулся:

- Что?

- Я слышал новости. Нам будет недоставать тебя.

Слух распространился быстро. Босх держал ящик в правой руке, левую он поднял и опустил ладонью вниз в воду воображаемого океана. Этот жест обычно предназначался водителям патрульных машин, проезжающих мимо по улице. Он означал - спокойного плавания, дружище.

На столе у Эдгара лежал большой лист белого картона, закрывавший и большую часть стола Босха. На нем он начертил что-то похожее на термометр. То была схема Уандерланд-авеню, разворотный круг в конце ее представлял собой шарик термометра.

От улицы отходили черточки, обозначающие дома. От черточек тянулись фамилии, написанные зеленым, синим и черным маркерами.

There was a red X that marked the spot where the bones had been found. Bosch stood and stared at the street diagram without asking a question.

"We should've done this from the start," Edgar said.

"How's it work?"

"The green names are residents in nineteen eighty who moved sometime after. The blue names are anybody who came after 'eighty but has already left. The black names are current residents. Anywhere you see just a black name — like Guyot right here — that means they've been there the whole time." Bosch nodded. There were only two names in black. Dr. Guyot and someone named Al Hutter, who was at the end of the street farthest from the crime scene.

"Good," Bosch said, though he didn't know what use the chart would be now.

"What's in the box?" Edgar asked.

"The skateboard. Jesper found something."

Bosch put the box down on his desk and took off the top. He told and showed Edgar the scratched date and initials.

"We've got to start looking at Trent again. Maybe look at that theory you had about him moving into the neighborhood because he had buried the kid up there."

"Tesus Harry I was almost joking about that "_

Место обнаружения костей было помечено красным X. Босх уставился на схему улицы, ни о чем не спрашивая.

- Надо было сделать это с самого начала, - заметил Эдгар.

- Что означают эти цвета? - спросил Босх.

- Зеленые фамилии - те, кто жил там в восьмидесятом году, а потом съехал. Синие - те, кто поселился после восьмидесятого года, но затем тоже сменил адрес. Черные - как Гийо - означают, что люди все время жили там.

- Хорошо, - сказал Босх, хотя не представлял, какой теперь может быть прок от этой схемы.

Поставив ящик на стол, Босх открыл крышку. Показал напарнику выцарапанные инициалы и дату на скейтборде.

- Нужно опять заняться Трентом. Рассмотреть твою теорию, что он поселился там потому, что похоронил на холме мальчика.

- Господи, Гарри, да я говорил это чуть ли не в шутку.

"Yeah, well, it's no joke now. We have to go back, put together a whole profile on Trent going all the way back to nineteen eighty, at least."

"And meantime we catch the next case here. That's real sweet."

"I heard on the radio it's supposed to rain this weekend. If we're lucky it will keep everybody inside and quiet."

"Harry, inside is where most of the killing is done."

Bosch looked across the squad room and saw Lt. Billets standing in her office. She was waving him in. He had forgotten that Edgar said she was looking for him. He pointed a finger at Edgar and then back at himself, asking if she wanted to see them both. Billets shook her head and pointed back only at Bosch.

He knew what it was about.

"I gotta go see Bullets."

Edgar looked up at him. He knew what it was about, too.

"Good luck, partner."

"Yeah, partner. If that's still the case."