Free The Reversal by Michael Connelly Page B

mentioned was that Gabriel Williams was a civil rights attorney before running for and winning the DA’s post. He had sued the department over SIS shootings on multiple occasions, claiming that the unit’s strategies were designed to draw suspects into deadly confrontations with police. He had gone so far as to call the unit a “death squad” while announcing a lawsuit over an SIS shooting that had left four robbers dead outside a Tommy’s fast-food franchise. That same death squad was now being used in a gambit that might help win the case against Jessup and further Williams’s political rise.
    “You’ll be informed of his activities?” McPherson asked.
    “Every morning I’ll get the surveillance log. And they’ll call me out if anything good happens.”
    “Perfect. Was there something else? I’m in a bit of a rush. I’m working on one of my preexisting cases and have a hearing about to start.”
    “Yeah, I found our witness.”
    “You’re brilliant! Where is she?”
    “Up in Washington on the northern tip of the Olympic Peninsula. A place called Port Townsend. She’s using her birth name, Sarah Ann Gleason, and it appears that she’s been living clean up there for about six years.”
    “That’s good for us.”
    “Maybe not.”
    “How so?”
    “It looks to me like most of her life has been spent trying to get away from what happened that Sunday in Hancock Park. If she’s finally gotten past it and is living the clean life up there in Port Townsend, she might not be interested in picking at old scabs, if you know what I mean.”
    “Not even for her sister?”
    “Maybe not. We’re talking about twenty-four years ago.”
    McPherson was quiet for a long moment and then finally responded.
    “That’s a cynical view of the world, Harry. When are you planning on going up there?”
    “As soon as I can. But I have to make arrangements for my daughter. She stayed with a friend when I went up to get Jessup at San Quentin. It didn’t turn out so good and now I have to hit the road again.”
    “Sorry to hear that. I want to go up with you.”
    “I think I can handle it.”
    “I know you can handle it. But it might be good to have a woman and a prosecutor with you. More and more, I think she’s going to be the key to this whole thing and she’s going to be my witness. Our approach to her will be very important.”
    “I’ve been approaching witnesses for about thirty years. I think I—”
    “Let me have the travel office here make the arrangements. That way we can go up together. Talk out the strategy.”
    Bosch paused. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to change her mind.
    “Whatever you say.”
    “Good. I’ll tell Mickey and contact travel. We’ll book a morning flight. I’m clear tomorrow. Is that too soon for you? I’d hate to wait on this till next week.”
    “I’ll make it work.”
    Bosch had had a third reason to call her but now decided to hold back. Her taking over the trip to Washington made him gun-shy about discussing his investigative moves.
    They hung up and he was left drumming his fingers on the edge of his desk as he contemplated what he would say to Rachel Walling.
    After a few moments he pulled out his cell phone and used it to make the call. He had Walling’s number in its memory. To his surprise, she answered right away. He had envisioned her seeing his name on the ID and letting him go to the message. They’d had a relationship that was long over but still left a trail of intense feelings.
    “Hello, Harry.”
    “Hello, Rachel. How are you?”
    “I’m fine. And you?”
    “Pretty good. I’m calling about a case.”
    “Of course. Harry Bosch never goes through channels. He goes direct.”
    “There are no channels for this. And you know I call you because I trust you and more than anything else respect your opinion. I go through channels and I get some profiler in Quantico who’s just a voice on the phone. And not only that, he doesn’t call me back with