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The driver turned and looked at his passenger.

“Fifty bucks,” Bosch said.

“Okay,” the driver said.

He got out and they started walking back to Bosch’s house. Bosch asked the man his name.

“Ermides,” the man said.

Bosch didn’t know if that was a first or last name.

“Thanks for doing this, Ermides,” he said. “I’ve climbed down there before, but I just got this knee and I — ”

“How did the laptop fall?” Ermides asked.

“Uh, I had it on the railing and I just hit it with my hand and it — ” Bosch said.

He flipped his hand to simulate the fall. Ermides did not look like he believed it.

“It broke?” Ermides asked.

“It looks like it’s in one piece,” Bosch said. “It has an Otter box case.”

Ermides clearly didn’t know what that meant.

“You know, like, shock-resistant,” Bosch explained.

They got to the house and Bosch showed Ermides the path underneath, where a storage room, the water heater, and HVAC equipment were located. Railroad ties were used for steps. But the path ended under the house and the laptop was farther down the rugged slope. He told Ermides he would go out on the deck and point him to where the laptop was.

“And you get the money?” the lawn man asked.

“And I’ll get the money,” Bosch said.

Twenty minutes later Bosch was in his car heading downtown, the laptop and the printed Lamb summary on the seat next to him. The laptop had survived the plummet from the deck, thanks to its protective shell and the buffering branches of the sycamore tree it had fallen through. Bosch kept his eyes on the mirrors and got off at random exits and then back on the freeway twice. He saw no indication that he was being tailed — at least by anything on the ground. He had checked under the car before leaving the house and saw no sign of a tracker.

When he got to the Roybal, he was given a key card and sent up to the task force’s room. But instead of going to the seventh floor, he stopped on the third and went to the US attorney’s office, where he asked to see Cutler. He had decided that he had to reveal the break-in to the federal team but believed he had a better shot of staying on the investigation if he told Cutler rather than Cavanaugh.

He was sent back to Cutler’s office without delay, but when he entered he saw Cavanaugh sitting in front of the prosecutor’s desk.

“Just the man we were talking about,” Cutler said. “Come in, Bosch. Take a seat.”

Bosch approached, noting that Cutler was no longer calling him Harry or even Mr. Bosch.

“What’s up?” he asked innocently.

“What’s up is that you fucked up,” Cavanaugh said.

“Had a break-in last night, didn’t we?” Cutler said.

“That was fast,” Bosch said.

He took the remaining seat, keeping his eyes on Cutler. He knew Cavanaugh would never be on his side and it was a waste of time to think otherwise.

“How do you already know?” he asked.

“How do you think?” Cavanaugh said. “The report you wrote, which should have been written and filed safely in this office as you were instructed, is now in the hands of Nicky Novak and he knows all about your little investigation. Did you even think to check if you were followed here this morning? You obviously ignored my message not to come in.”

“I didn’t get your message,” Bosch said. “And yes, I checked. I wasn’t followed. All they got was the report and it doesn’t hurt us.”