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“You see any hinges?”
“Hold on.”
She put the phone down on the carpeted floor of the van andmoved to the bed. The mattress was no more than four inches thick. It was easy for her to push up and roll back so she could examine the top of the wooden box.
There was a seam halfway back on the top of the box and two metal hinges. She put the light close to one and saw three screws holding each side of the hinge.
“Two hinges, three screws each,” she said. “I need a Phillips-head.”
“That’ll take too long,” Bosch said. “Just get out of there. We’ll figure something else out.”
Ballard swept the light across the full rear compartment of the van. On the floor under the back of the driver’s seat there was a red metal box that was either for tools or first aid. She crawled over, pulled the box out, and flipped the lid open. The box contained tools, and there was a Phillips-head screwdriver clipped to the top of it.
“I have a screwdriver right here, courtesy of our badge buyer.”
“Just be quick, Renée, okay? I’m going to change position to see if I can get a direct look at the circle jerks.”
Ballard smiled. “I’ve got six screws to remove,” she said. “I’ll be as fast as I can.”
She moved back to the box and went to work. It was a homemade job, and the screws anchoring the hinges to the plywood had loosened over time from the repeated opening and closing of the lid. They turned easily and Ballard had all six out in less than five minutes.
“How are we doing?” she asked. “Screws are out and I’m going to open the lid.”
“I’ve got eyes on the circle,” Bosch said. “I can’t see everybody, but I’ll be able to see if anybody moves toward the van.”
“Good.”
“But don’t waste time. See what’s there and get the hell out.”
Ballard didn’t respond. She held her phone light up with one hand and raised the lid with the other. She folded it down over the padlock.
The box was filled to the top with haphazardly folded clothing. She swept the light across. There were several pairs of jeans, jackets, and shoes. Still holding the light up, she started grabbing clothes and pulling them out of the box, digging down to the bottom.
Soon she saw the glint of metal and began uncovering weapons. There were rifles, handguns, boxes of ammo, combat knives, and more.
“There are enough weapons here to start a little war,” Ballard said, “but he still needs four machine guns. This guy’s—”
She stopped talking when she flipped over an assault vest with metal plates and sawLAPDstenciled across the front and back.
“What?” Bosch said. “I lost you.”
“He’s got an LAPD SWAT vest. What the fuck is this guy up to?”
“We’ll figure it out. What about your badge?”
“Not here, as far as I can tell.”
“Okay, then, why don’t you get the hell out of there. Now, Renée.”
“I can’t just leave it like this. He’ll know we’re onto his ass. I need to put everything back like I found it.”
“You’re going to give me a heart attack here.”
“I’m fine, Harry.”
“For now. Just hurry it up.”
“Yes, Dad.”
