The Burning Room

32



Bosch kept Burrows in the cuffs until they were inside the house and he had made a complete walk-through to confirm there was no one else inside. He found a table and chairs in the kitchen and sat Burrows down against a wall adorned with a Nazi flag. He put the two weapons on a counter, then returned to Burrows, uncuffed him, and took the seat across the table from him. Soto stood to the right, next to the counter by the guns. The nearby sink was overflowing with dirty plates and glasses. She took out her phone, turned on its recording app, and placed it down on the counter while Burrows exaggeratedly rubbed his wrists to restore feeling in them.

The dog went to the bowl by the back door and started loudly lapping up water. They waited until the noise subsided.

“What is she?” Bosch asked.

“Part pit, part Rotter,” Burrows said.

Bosch nodded toward the flag.

“Goes with the flag, huh?” he said.

Burrows didn’t respond. The dog found a spot by the door, circled around twice, and then lay down.

“Do you live here alone?” Bosch asked.

“Yes, I do,” Burrows said. “Can we skip the small talk now? I just want to get this over with.”

“Sure. Where did you get the guns?”

“A gun show in Tucson. All legal. I was living there at the time.”

“Except you forgot to mention you were a convicted felon.”

“I bought from a private citizen and he didn’t have to ask. Besides, my attorney is petitioning the court to have that conviction expunged from my record. I served the time and completed the probation.”

“Yeah, good luck with that. Do you have any other firearms in the house?”

Burrows didn’t answer right away.

“Don’t lie,” Bosch said. “We’ll tear this place apart.”

“I have a shotgun next to my bed,” Burrows said. “I’m surprised you didn’t see it when you tromped all through my home. I only hesitated just now because you asked about firearms in the house. I also have a Colt .45 in the glove box of the truck, but you didn’t ask about the truck.”

Bosch nodded to Soto and she left the kitchen to collect the weapons. Harry checked to see that she had left her phone still recording on the counter and then turned back to Burrows.

“Okay, I’m going to read you your rights now.”

“What do you mean? I thought we were just going to talk?”

“We are. But I haven’t decided what to do about the firearms yet. The switchblade is illegal, too. Let’s just see how we get along here and let’s do everything right.”

Without taking his eyes off the man in front of him, Bosch pulled his badge wallet. He then glanced down and read Burrows his rights off a card he kept in it.

“Do you understand these rights as I have read them?” he asked.

“I don’t recognize these rights,” Burrows said.

“I don’t care if you recognize them. Do you understand what I just read to you?”

“Yes, but I don’t—”

“I bet you’re paying your taxes now, right?”

“Under protest.”

“Okay, same thing. These are your rights under the government of this land. You can protest that government but those are the rules. Do you want to proceed with the interview or do you want to get in the back of the car and head on down to L.A.?”

“I understand the rights. I will talk to you without my attorney present.”

“Good, we’re making progress here. Where’s Ana Acevedo?”

Burrows physically moved back in his seat as if Bosch’s bluntness was a solid object he had been struck with.

“Look, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you from the start,” he protested. “I have no idea where she is. I haven’t seen that girl in twenty years.”

“When and under what circumstances did you see her last?”

Before he could answer, Soto came back into the kitchen. She put the two new weapons she had collected with the others, then reclaimed her position by the counter.

Bosch turned back to Burrows and repeated his question.

“Tell us about the last time you saw Ana Acevedo.”

“I don’t—we’re talking about the nineties here. How can I remember the exact—”

“But you lived with her. You ought to be able to remember when you—”

“No, I did not. Who said that? I would never…”

His voice trailed off.

“Never what?” Soto asked. “Never live with a brown person?”

Bosch threw Soto a back-off look. He wanted to keep Burrows off guard and the best way to do that was to have one person in control of the interview.

“If you didn’t live with her, then you at least visited her at the Bonnie Brae,” he said. “We have witnesses.”

“Yes, yes, that’s exactly right,” Burrows said. “I visited her there. I didn’t live there. I never lived there and I never lived with her.”

The plan was to use Ana Acevedo to get Burrows to admit things that could be useful and used against him in a case involving the Bonnie Brae fire. Bosch had just checked the first and most important box. Burrows had just admitted that he had been in the Bonnie Brae Arms to visit Acevedo. This started them down the road toward establishing familiarity with the place. That road ended with Burrows knowing where the trash chute was located.

“Then, what exactly was your relationship with her?”

“She and me worked together and it was her who came on to me. It was against the rules but she came on to me, and so we had a thing. It was all less than six months long.”

Soto made a derisive sound with her mouth. Bosch ignored it.

“You’re talking about the check-cashing business?” he asked. “It was against the rules there?”

“Yes, we both worked there,” Burrows said. “For a year. I did the security. Then she quit the job and she quit me and I never saw her again. I swear, that’s it.”

“Why did she quit?”

“There had been a robbery. And I got assaulted and she got roughed up. They held a gun to her head. An AR-15. She got spooked and didn’t want to work there anymore—like PTS syndrome or something, but they never called it that back then. I never saw her again after that. She visited me one time in the hospital after the robbery and that was it.”

“Where did she go?”

“I just told you, I don’t know.”

“And you never tried to find her.”

“No. I wasn’t…look, it was just sex. We weren’t in love. I let it go.”

“Did your buddies in WAVE know about her?”

A glimmer of surprise showed in Burrows’s eyes. Bosch knew about WAVE. Burrows didn’t answer, but Bosch pushed it.

“Did you tell them?” he asked. “Did you brag to the guys at the clubhouse about banging a Mexican? What is it you people would have called her, a ‘border monkey’?”

“No, I didn’t tell them,” Burrows said. “I didn’t tell any of them and I didn’t call her that.”

Bosch stared at him for a long moment, assessing him, thinking about where to go next.

“How many nights did you stay at the Bonnie Brae?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Burrows said. “Thirty, forty, I was there a lot. We were…”

“You were what? In love?”

“No, no way. It wasn’t love.”

“Did you leave clothes there?”

“Yeah, I left some work uniforms there so I would have them.”

“Did you do laundry, take out the trash?”

“I helped out, yeah. It doesn’t mean we—”

“You took out the trash for a woman you didn’t love?”

“Look, man, you’re totally twisting this.”

“How? Did you take out the trash or not?”

“I took out the trash but it didn’t mean shit and it doesn’t matter, because I still haven’t heard from her in twenty years and I don’t know where the fuck she’s at.”

Bosch paused. He let things calm down even though inside he was roaring because he had everything he needed from Burrows.

“What do you do for a living now, Rodney?” he asked.

“I drive a parts truck,” Burrows said.

“What parts?”

“American auto parts.”

“Where is Ana Acevedo? What did you do with her?”

“What? I did nothing! I don’t know where she is!”

He yelled it and the dog picked her head up off the floor.

“You know what?” Burrows said. “I don’t care anymore. Just take me to L.A. I want to see a lawyer.”

He started to stand up but Bosch was waiting for the move. He jumped up, reached across the table, and drove Burrows back down into his seat with one hand on his shoulder.

“Sit down. And don’t get up until I tell you to.”

Bosch heard the low rumble of the dog’s growl from the doorway.

“You’re violating my civil rights,” Burrows protested. “You can’t come in here to my home on my own property and tell me what to do.”

Bosch looked over at Soto and nodded toward the phone. Burrows had asked for a lawyer so the interview was technically over. She switched off the recording app.

Bosch turned back to Burrows.

“Funny how you guys always say the same thing,” he said. “You want nothing to do with this country and its laws and then all of a sudden you want us to play by the very rules you deny.”

“I want my lawyer.”

“You invited us into your home, Mr. Burrows. You had a choice and you invited us in. If you’re saying you want a lawyer, then we’ll stop all of this right now, take you to L.A., and book you.”

Burrows put his elbows on the table and drew his hands over his face.

“Or,” Bosch said, “you could just tell us about that robbery at EZBank.”

Burrows shook his head like he had no choice.

“Two guys,” he said. “They came in, shot up the place, and gave me the butt end of one of the guns. I got a cracked skull and a concussion and couldn’t really remember anything after that. But what I was told was they had me on the ground and they put the gun against my head to shoot unless someone opened the security door.”

“What happened?” Bosch said.

“Ana opened the door. She’d already pulled the silent alarm. She knew the police were coming, so she opened the door. Then the robbers came in and made them open the vault and the cash drawers.”

“Made who open the vault?”

“The manager of the place was back there with her. It was him.”

“Who was that?”

“Uh, his name was…I can’t remember. It was like a Russian name.”

“You mean Ukrainian?”

“Whatever.”

“Was it Maxim?”

“Yeah, that was it. We called him Max.”

“He was fucking Ana on the side, too, right?”

Again the surprise showed.

“No, that’s bullshit,” Burrows said. “That’s not what happened.”

“You sure?”

“I woulda known.”

“Really? You said you weren’t living with her. You weren’t there every night. You just told me.”

“But I woulda known.”

“How many days a week were you there?”

“Three or four times. It woulda been more but her roommate didn’t like me. But there was nobody else.”

“So what you’re saying is that after this robbery Ana Acevedo quit her job and quit you at the same time?”

“That’s what happened. She had PTS.”

“I get that about the job. But what about you?”

“She said I was a reminder of what happened at the store.”

“What store?”

“The place we worked. EZBank. We called it the store.”

“When was the next time you saw Ana after she quit?”

“How many times I gotta tell you? She came to the hospital to say good-bye. I never saw her again.”

“So she bagged you. How’d the police treat you after the robbery?”

“Yeah, that’s who you should be investigating. Those bastards, they tried to put the whole thing on me. They said I set it up. Like, yeah, part of the master plan was to have my skull cracked open like an egg.”

“They arrest you?”

“I was never charged. You know why? Because I had nothing to do with it. I had a fucking concussion and these guys were telling me while I was in the hospital bed that I set the whole thing up. What bullshit!”

Bosch didn’t respond. He was assessing things. He had checked all the boxes he’d come to check. They had Burrows, by his own words, solidly inside the Bonnie Brae and aware of the trash chute—he had taken out the trash. It was time to sharpen the blade, time to get on point with Burrows. He glanced back at Soto and she nodded slightly. The recording was back on. It’s legal viability would be questionable but Bosch wanted this part recorded just the same.

“Tell me about the fire,” he said.

Burrows looked confused.

“What fire?” he asked.

“At the Bonnie Brae.”

“That fire that same day? I don’t know anything about it. Ana didn’t live there anymore. Her roommate had kicked her out. That fire was set by the gangbangers who owned that street. Like the year before with the riots, these people burning down their own neighborhoods, killing their own children. How fucked is that? I mean, this was our whole point.”

In his peripheral vision Bosch saw Soto come off her relaxed lean against the counter. He turned and gave her another look that pushed her back down. Now was not the time to air personal emotions and clash with the racist. They had a purpose here, and the more they kept Burrows talking, the closer they got to it.

“Explain that,” he said to Burrows. “Who are you talking about? What was the point?”

“The WAVE, man,” Burrows responded. “We saw this coming. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Before the race war?”

“You could call it that. But it doesn’t matter what you call it, it’s coming.”

“Which one of the Pollard brothers made the firebomb?”

“What firebomb?”

“The one they dropped down the trash chute at the Bonnie Brae.”

Burrows seemed stunned speechless.

“Before they robbed the EZBank,” Bosch said.

“You’re crazy,” Burrows said. “We were completely nonviolent. We never hurt anyone. You can’t pin that on us. In fact, I didn’t even know those guys back then. That came after.”

Bosch leaned across the table.

“Bullshit. You don’t just say, ‘I think I’ll sign up for a race war now.’ You knew them and you all knew what you wanted. And you needed money to build your little clubhouse out in Castaic.”

“No! You’re crazy and that’s it, I’m done talking. Either take me in and book me or get the hell out of my house and off my property. Now!”

Bosch stood up and signaled Burrows to get up.

“Then, stand up.”

“Why? What are you doing?”

“We’re going to L.A.”

“Oh, come on, you’re not going to do this, are you?”

“Stand up, please.”

“We talked! I helped! What do you want? I don’t know anything about Ana Acevedo! I had nothing to do with that fire and you have zero evidence that I did. I met the Pollards a year later in Castaic.”

Bosch walked around the table, coming toward Burrows. Soto joined him and the physical message was clear.

“Okay, okay,” Burrows said, raising his hands. “I get it, I get it. You people don’t give a shit about the truth. You just need a scapegoat and I’m it. I’m always the easy fucking target.”

“That’s right,” Bosch said. “You’ve got it.”

Burrows stood and Soto moved in behind him to cuff his wrists.

Bosch walked him out of the house while Soto carried the weapons. They closed the door with the dog inside and moved down the driveway. At the truck, Bosch opened the door and used the remote to open the gate.

Burrows was placed in the back of the Ford and the guns went onto the blanket in the trunk. Bosch then waved Soto back toward the pickup so they could talk without Burrows’s being able to hear.

“So what do you think?” he asked.

“I think he’s a racist dirtbag like we knew all along,” she said. “What do you think?”

“He’s that, for sure. But I don’t think he’s our inside man.”

“Why? He puts himself in the Bonnie Brae. He admits he knew where the trash chute was. He had access. He had motive. And he couldn’t have cared less about who might’ve been hurt in that place.”

Bosch paused for a long moment and looked over her head at the Ford. It appeared that Burrows had his head down. Bosch could not see him.

“It’s not so much what I heard,” he finally said. “It’s what I saw. The reads I got. The tells. He didn’t know about Boiko and Ana. He didn’t know a lot.”

“And what, you believe him?”

“Lucy, I’ve been reading people for almost forty years. You reach a point where you trust your instincts. My read on this one is that he’s not the guy.”

She folded her arms tightly across her chest.

“I wish I was that good at reading people. Have you ever been wrong?”

“Sure, I’ve been wrong. Nobody bats a thousand. But that doesn’t change what I’m feeling here right now.”

“Then, what do you want to do, just kick him loose? He was wearing a gun on his hip like he’s some kind of cowboy.”

“No, I don’t want to kick him loose. I want to turn him over to the San Berdoo sheriff on the gun charges and let them sort that out. Then we get out of here and go on to the next one.”

“Boiko.”

“Yeah. And then Ana. We still need to find her. And look, I’m not saying we close the book on Burrows. We’ve still got our nets in the water. Maybe we come up with something that changes how we look at him. But for now…”

He looked back at the Ford again. Burrows had now straightened up and Bosch could see him staring out through the windshield at them.

“You want me to call the sheriff?”

“Yeah, go ahead. Tell them they’ll probably want to bring animal control out too.”

Soto nodded glumly.

“You got it, Harry.”