Vol Ii Part 76 (1/2)
”He's just going to take a look around, that's all,” Bosch said. ”Sit down here and talk to me, Dorothy. Faster we get this over with, the faster we're out of here.”
He pointed to the chair and remained standing until she finally sat. He then moved around the coffee table and sat on the couch. Its springs were shot. He sank so low in it that he had to lean forward and even then it felt like his knees were halfway up to his chest. He got out his notebook.
”I don't like him messing around in my things,” Dorothy said, looking back over her shoulder toward the hallway.
”He'll be careful.” Bosch took out his notebook. ”You seemed to know we were coming. How'd you know that?”
”I know what she told me, is all. She said the police might come. She didn't say anything about them coming all the way from Los Angeles.”
She said Angeles Angeles with a hard G. with a hard G.
”And you know why we're here?”
”Because of Tony. She said he went and got himself killed over there.”
”Where did Gretchen go, Dorothy?”
”She did not tell me. You can ask me all the times you like but my answer's always going to be the same. I don't know.”
”Is that her sports car in the carport?”
”Sure is. She bought it with her own money.”
”Stripping?”
”I always said money was the same whether it was made one way or the next.”
Edgar came in then and looked at Bosch. Harry nodded for him to report.
”Looks like she was here. There's a second bedroom. Ashtray on the nightstand's full. There's a s.p.a.ce on the rod in the closet where it looks like somebody had hung up some clothes. They're gone now. She left this.”
He held his hand out and cradled in his palm was a small oval picture frame with a photograph of Tony Aliso and Gretchen Alexander. They had their arms around each other and were smiling at the camera. Bosch nodded and looked back at Dorothy Alexander.
”If she left, why'd she leave her car here?”
”Don't know. A taxi came for her.”
”Did she fly?”
”How could I know that if I don't know where she was going?”
Bosch pointed a finger at her like a gun.
”Good point. Did she say when she'd be back?”
”No.”
”How old is Gretchen?”
”She'll be twenty-three.”
”How'd she take the news about Tony?”
”Not well. She was in love and now her heart's broken. I'm worried about her.”
”You think she might do something to hurt herself?”
”I don't know what she might do.”
”Did she tell you she was in love, or did you just think that?”
”I just didn't think it up, she told me. She confided in me and it was the truth. She said they were going to get married.”
”Did she know Tony Aliso was already married?”
”Yes, she knew. But he told her, he said that it was over and it was just a matter of time.”
Bosch nodded. He wondered if it was the truth. Not the truth that Gretchen might have believed, but the truth that Tony Aliso believed. He looked down at the blank page of his notebook.
”I'm trying to think if there is anything else,” he said. ”Jerry?”
Edgar shook his head, then spoke.
”I guess I'd just like to know why a mother would let her daughter do that for a living. Taking her clothes off like that.”
”Jerry, I -”
”She has a talent, mister. Men come from all over the country and when they see her they keep coming back. Because of her. And I'm not her mother. I might as well have been, her own went and left her with me a long time ago. But she has a talent and I'm not talking to you two anymore. Get out of my house.”
She stood up, as if ready to physically enforce her edict if she needed to. Bosch decided to let her have her say and stood up, putting his notebook away.
”I'm sorry for the intrusion,” he said as he dug a business card out of his wallet. ”If you hear from her, would you give her this number? And tonight she can get me at the Mirage again.”
”I'll tell her if I hear from her.”
She took the card and followed them to the door. On the front step Bosch looked back at her and nodded.
”Thanks, Mrs. Alexander.”
”For what?”
They were quiet for a while driving back to the Strip. Eventually, Bosch asked Edgar what he thought of the interview.
”She's a crusty old b.i.t.c.h. I had to ask that question. Just to see how she'd react. Other than that, I think this Layla or Gretchen is just a dead end. Just some stupid girl Tony was leading on. You know, it's usually the strippers that are working the angles. But this time I think it was Tony.”
”Maybe.”
Bosch lit a cigarette and dropped back into silence. He was no longer thinking of the interview. As far as he was concerned, the work for the day was over and he was now thinking about Eleanor Wish.
When he got to the Mirage, Bosch swung the car into the circle in front and pulled to a stop near the front doors.