accused of. She would know they were calling him the Echo Park Bagman.
“Irene?”
He guessed that her imagination had taken terrible flight.
“Irene, it’s not what you think. I’m just running some checks on this guy. It sounds like you’ve heard of him from the news.”
“Of course. Those poor young girls. Ending up like that. I . . .”
He knew what she was thinking, maybe not what she was feeling.
“Can you think back before you saw him on the news. The name. Do you remember if your daughter ever mentioned it?”
“No, I don’t remember it, thank God.”
“Is your husband there? Can you check with him?”
“He’s not here. He’s still at work.”
Dan Gesto had given everything of himself to the search for his missing daughter. After two years, when he had nothing left spiritually, physically or financially, he went home to Bakersfield and went back to work at a John Deere franchise. Selling farmers their tractors and tools kept him alive now.
“Can you ask him when he comes home and then call me back if he remembers the name?”
“I will, Harry.”
“One other thing, Irene. Marie’s apartment had that tall window in the living room. You remember that?”
“Of course. That first year we came down for Christmas instead of her coming up. We wanted her to feel like it was a two-way road. Dan put up the tree in that window and you could see its lights from up and down the block.”
“Yes. Do you know if she ever hired a window washer to keep that window clean?”
There was a long silence while Bosch waited. It was a hole in the investigation, an angle he should have followed thirteen years before but hadn’t even thought of.
“I don’t remember, Harry. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Irene. It’s okay. Do you remember when you and Dan went back to Bakersfield and you took everything from the apartment?”
“Yes.”
She said it in a strangled voice. He knew that she was crying now and that the couple had felt that in some way they were abandoning their daughter as well as their hope when they had gone home after two years of searching and waiting.
“Did you keep it all? All the records and bills and all of the stuff we gave you when we were finished with it?”
He knew that if there had been a receipt for a window washer, it would have been a lead that was checked out. But he had to ask her anyway to confirm the negative, to make sure it hadn’t slipped through the cracks.
“Yes, we have it. It’s in her room. We have a room with her things in it. In case she . . .”
Ever came home. Bosch knew their hope would not be fully extinguished until Marie was found, one way or the other.
“I understand,” he said. “I need you to look through that box, Irene. If you can. I want you to look for a receipt from a window washer. Go through her checkbooks and see if she paid a window washer. Look for a company called ClearView Residential Glass Cleaners, or maybe an abbreviation of that. Call me if you find anything. Okay, Irene? Do you have a pen there? I think I got a new cell number since the last time I gave it to you.”
“Okay, Harry,” Irene said. “I have a pen.”
“The number is three-two-three, two-four-four, five-six-three-one. Thank you, Irene. I’m going to go now. Please give your husband my best.”
“I will. How’s your daughter, Harry?”
He paused. Over the years it seemed like he had told them everything about himself. It was a way of keeping solid the bond and his promise to find their daughter.
“She’s fine. She’s great.”
“What grade now?”
“Third, but I don’t get to see her that much. She’s living in Hong Kong with her mother at the moment. I went over last month for a week. They’ve got a Disneyland over there now.”
He didn’t know why he threw in that last line.
“It must be very special when you are with her.”
“Yes. She is also sending me e-mail now. She’s better at it than me.”
It was awkward speaking about
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