CHAPTER 43

The skies cleared a couple days later and the city started to dry out and dig out. There had been landslides in Malibu and Topanga. The coast highway was down to two lanes for the foreseeable future. In the Hollywood Hills there had been Hooding in the lower streets. One house on Fareholm Drive had broken free and was washed into the street, leaving an aging movie star homeless. Two deaths were attributed to the storm-a golfer who had inexplicably decided to get in a few holes between bands of the storm and was hit on a backswing by a bolt of lightning, and Robert Backus, the fugitive serial killer. The Poet was dead, the headlines and news anchors said. Backus's body was fished out of the river at the Sepulveda Dam. Cause of death: drowning.

The seas calmed, too, and I took a morning ferry out to Catalina to see Graciela McCaleb. I rented a golf cart and drove up to the house, where she answered the door and received me with her family. I met Raymond, the adopted son, and Cielo, the girl Terry had told me about. Meeting her made me miss my own daughter and reminded me of the new vulnerability I would soon have in my life.

The house was filled with boxes and Graciela explained that the storm had delayed their move back to the mainland. In another day their belongings would be shuttled down to a barge and then taken across to the port, where a moving truck would be waiting. It was complicated and expensive but she had no regrets. She wanted to leave the island and the memories it held.

We went out to the table on the porch so we could talk without the children hearing. It was a nice spot with a view of all of Avalon Harbor. It made it hard to believe she wanted to leave. I could see The Following Sea down there and I noticed there was someone in the stern and that one of the deck hatches was open.

"Is that Buddy down there?"

"Yes, he's getting ready to move the boat. The FBI brought it back yesterday without calling ahead. I would have told them to take it to Cabrillo. Now Buddy has to do it."

"What's he going to do with it?"

"He's going to continue the business. He'll run the charters from over there and pay me rent on the boat."

I nodded. It sounded like a decent plan.

"Selling the boat wouldn't bring that much in. And, I don't know, Terry worked so hard on that boat. It feels wrong to just sell it to a stranger."

"I understand.'*

"You know, you could probably get a ride back with Buddy instead of waiting for the ferry. If you want. If you're not sick of Buddy."

"No, Buddy's fine. I like Buddy."

We sat in silence for a long moment. I didn't feel I needed to explain anything about the case to her. We had talked on the phone-because I wanted to explain things before it bit the media-and the story had been all over the papers and television. She knew the details, large and small. There was little left to say but I thought I needed to visit with her in person one last time. It had all started with her. I figured'it should end with her as well.

"Thank you for what you did," Graciela said. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Just a few scratches and bruises from the river. It was a wild ride."

I smiled. The only visible injuries I had were scrapes on my hands and one above my left eyebrow.

"But thank you for calling me. I'm glad I got the chance. That's why I came, just to say thanks and to say good luck with everything."

The sliding door opened and the little girl came out carrying a book.

"Mommy, will you read this to me now?"

"I'm visiting with Mr. Bosch right now. In a little while, okay?"

"No, I want you to read it now."

The girl looked like it was a life-or-death request and her face knotted up, ready for a cry.

"It's okay," I said. "Mine's like that, too. You can read it." "It's her favorite book. Terry used to read it to her just about every night."

She pulled the girl up onto her lap and brought the book up to read. I saw that it was the same book Eleanor had just gotten for my daughter. Billy's Big Day, with the monkey receiving the gold medal on the cover. Cielo's copy was worn around the edges from reading and rereading. The cover had been ripped in two places and then taped.

Graciela opened it and started to read.

"One bright summer day the circus animal Olympics were held under the big top in Ringlingville. All the animals had the day off from all of the circuses and were allowed to compete in the many different events."

I noticed that Graciela had changed her voice and was reading the story with an inflection of excitement and anticipation.

"All the animals lined up at the bulletin board outside Mr. Farnsworth's office. The list of events was posted on the board. There were races and relays and many other contests. The big animals got closest to the board and were crowding it, so the others couldn't see. A little monkey squeezed between the legs of an elephant and then climbed the pachyderm's trunk so that he could see the list. Billy Bing smiled when he finally saw it. There was one race called the hundred-yard dash and he knew he was very good at dashing."

I didn't hear the rest of the story after that. I got up and went to the railing and looked down into the harbor. But I didn't see anything down there either. My mind was too busy for the external world. I was flooded with ideas and emotions. I suddenly knew that the name William Bing, the name Terry McCaleb had scrawled on the flap of his file, belonged to a monkey. And I suddenly knew that the story wasn't finished, not by a long shot.

CHAPTER 44

Rachel came to see me at my house later that day. I had just gotten in after filing my paperwork with Kiz Rider at Parker Center and was listening to a phone message from Ed Thomas. He was thanking me for saving his life when all along it was I who owed him an apology for not warning him in the first place. I was feeling guilty about that and thinking about calling the bookstore when Rachel knocked. I invited her in and we went out to the back deck.

"Wow, nice view."

"Yeah, I like it."

I pointed down to the left, where a small cut of the river was in the view behind the soundstages on the Warner Brothers lot.

"There it is, the mighty Los Angeles River."

She squinted and looked and then found it.

"The narrows. Looks pretty weak right now."

"It's resting. Next storm, it will be back."

"How are you feeling, Harry?" "Good. Better. I've been sleeping a lot. I'm surprised you're still in town."

"Well, I took a few days. I'm actually looking at apartments."

"Really?"

I turned with my back to the railing so I could just look at her.

"I'm pretty sure this whole thing will be my ticket out of South Dakota. I don't know what squad they'll put me on but I'm going to ask for L.A. Or I was, until I saw what some of these apartments go for. In Rapid City I pay five-fifty a month for a really nice and secure place."

"I could find you five-fifty here but you probably won't like the location. You'd probably have to learn another language, too."

"No, thanks. I'm working on it. So what have you been doing?"

"I just came back from Parker Center. I put in my papers. I'm going back on the job."

"Then I guess this is it for us. I heard the FBI and the LAPD don't talk."

"Yeah, there is a wall there. But it's been known to come down from time to time. I have some friends with the bureau. Believe it or not."

"I believe it, Harry."

I noticed that she was back to calling me by my first name. I wondered if that meant the relationship was over.

"So," I said, "when did you know about McCaleb?"

"What do you mean? Know what?" "I mean when did you know that Backus didn't kill him? That he killed himself."