“But she has to run the story, Harry. We only have seventy-two hours.”

“I know. Let me think.”

He opened his phone and called Muriel Verloren. She answered and he asked her how the interview went. She said it was fine and she was glad it was over.

“Did they take photos?”

“Yes, they wanted pictures of the bedroom. I didn’t feel good, opening it up like that to them. But I did.”

“I understand. Thank you for doing that. Just remember, the story is going to help us. We’re getting close, Muriel, and the newspaper story will push things. We appreciate your doing it.”

“If it helps, then I am glad to do it.”

“Good. Let me ask you something else. Did you mention the name Roland Mackey to the reporter?”

“No, you told me not to. So I didn’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m more than sure. She asked me what you people were telling me but I didn’t say anything about him. Why?”

“No reason. I just wanted to make sure, that’s all. Thank you, Muriel. I’ll call you as soon as I have some news.”

He closed the phone. He didn’t think Muriel Verloren would lie to him. The reporter had to have another source.

“What?” Rider asked.

“She didn’t tell her.”

“Then who did?”

“Good question.”

The phone started to vibrate and chirp while he was still holding it. He looked at the screen and recognized the number.

“It’s her-the reporter. I have to take this.”

He answered the call.

“Detective Bosch, it’s McKenzie Ward. I’m on deadline and we need to talk.”

“Right. I just got your message. My phone was off because I was in court.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Roland Mackey?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Roland Mackey. I was told you already have a suspect named Roland Mackey.”

“Who told you that?”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you withheld a key piece of information from me. Is Roland Mackey your prime suspect? Let me guess. You are playing both sides and giving that to the Times.”

Bosch had to think quickly. The reporter was sounding pressed and upset. A reporter who goes off angry could be a problem. He had to calm the situation and at the same time take Mackey out of the mix. The one thing he had going for him was that she had not mentioned a DNA link between Mackey and the gun. This made Bosch think that her source of information was outside the department. Someone with limited information.

“First of all, I’m not talking to the Times on this. As long as it runs tomorrow, you are the only one with this story. Secondly, it does matter where you got that name from because your information is wrong. I am trying to help you here, McKenzie. You would be making a big mistake if you put that name in the article. You might even get sued.”

“Then who is he?”

“Who is your source?”

“You know I can’t give you that.”

“Why not?”

Bosch was stalling for time while he thought it out. While the reporter rattled off a standard response about shield laws and protecting sources, Bosch was ticking off the names of people outside the department whom he and Rider had talked to about Mackey. They included Rebecca Verloren’s three friends-Tara Wood, Bailey Sable and Grace Tanaka. There was also Robert Verloren, Danny Kotchof, Thelma Kibble, the parole agent, and Gordon Stoddard, the school principal, as well as Mrs. Atkins, the secretary who looked for Mackey’s name in the school’s rolls.

There was also Judge Demchak but Bosch dismissed that as a long shot. Ward’s message had been left on his line while he and Rider were with the judge. The idea that the judge would have picked up the phone and called the reporter while she had been alone in chambers studying the search warrant application seemed out of the question. She hadn’t even known of the pending newspaper story let alone the reporter assigned to it.

Bosch guessed that because of time constraints, the reporter had simply gone back to the office and made a few phone calls to round out the story. She had gotten the name Roland Mackey from someone she had called. Bosch doubted that she could have located or even contacted Robert Verloren in the few hours since the interview. He also scratched Grace Tanaka and Danny Kotchof because they weren’t local. Without Mackey’s name, there was no link to Kibble. That left Tara Wood and the school-either Stoddard, Sable or the secretary. The most obvious answer was the school because it would have been the easiest link for the reporter to make. He now felt better and thought he could contain the threat.

“Detective, are you still there?”

“Yes, sorry, I’m trying to dodge some traffic here.”

“Then what is your answer? Who is Roland Mackey?”

“He’s nobody. He’s a loose end. Or was, actually. We’ve tied that up now.”

“Explain that.”

“Look, we inherited this case, right? Well, over the years the murder book got shelved, reshelved, moved around a bit. Things got mixed up. So part of what we had to do was some basic housekeeping. We had to put things in order. We found a picture of this Roland Mackey guy loose in the book and we weren’t sure who he was and what his connection was. When we were out doing interviews, getting acquainted with the players in the case, we showed his picture to a few people to see if they knew who he was and where he fit. At no time, McKenzie, did we tell anyone he was a prime suspect. That is the truth. So either you are exaggerating or whoever mentioned this guy to you was exaggerating.”

There was a silence and Bosch guessed she was revisiting the interview that gave her the name Mackey.

“Then who is he?” she finally asked.

“Just some guy with a juvie record who was living in Chatsworth back then. He hung out at the old drive-in on Winnetka, and that was apparently a hangout for Rebecca and her friends as well. But it turns out that back in 1988 he was cleared of any involvement. We didn’t find out until after we showed the photo to a few people.”

It was a mixture of truth and shadings of the truth. Again the reporter was silent while she considered his answer.

“Who told you about him, Gordon Stoddard or Bailey Sable?” Bosch asked. “We took the photo to the school to see if he fit in there, and it turns out he didn’t even go to school there. We dropped it after that.”

“You sure about this?”

“Look, do what you want but if you put that guy’s name in the paper simply because we asked about him, you could be getting calls from him and his lawyer. We ask about a lot of people, McKenzie. That’s our job.”

More silence slipped by. Bosch thought the silence meant he had successfully defused the bomb.

“We went over to the school to look at the yearbook and copy photos,” Ward finally said. “We found out you took the only one they had in the library from ’eighty-eight.”

It was her way of confirming that Bosch had it right, but without giving up her source.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I have the yearbook on my desk. I don’t know what kind of time you have but you can send somebody over to pick it up if you want.”

“No, there’s no time. We took a picture of the plaque that’s on the wall at the school. That will work. Besides, I found a shot of the vic in our archives. We’ll use that.”

“I saw the plaque. It’s nice.”

“They’re very proud of it.”

“So we’re all right on this, McKenzie?”

“Yes, we’re fine. I just got a little excited there when I thought you were holding back something big.”

“Don’t have anything big to report. Yet.”

“All right, then I better get back to finishing the story.”

“It’s still running in the window tomorrow?”

“If I get it finished. Call me tomorrow and tell me what you think.”

“I will.”

Bosch closed the phone and looked at Rider.

“I think we’re okay,” he said.

“Boy, Harry, you’ve really got it going today. The artful dodger. I think you could probably talk a zebra out of his white stripes if you had to.”