Day 68, Chapter 68
One of the things I love about this book is the amount of stuff that happens between chapters. As if the there’s not enough inanity in there, imagine the things that don’t make the cut. At the start of Chapter 68, Lindsay has just returned to the police station after going home to shower and put on new clothes. Maybe she ate a sandwich, too. I don’t know why this struck me today, but it’s my show and you’re just going to have to roll with it.
I walked to Jacobi’s office and said, “What have we got?”
“His ID says he’s Roger Bosco, former Park Service employee, currently a maintenance man at the San Francisco Yacht Club. No military background, no sheet of any kind. He hasn’t asked for counsel.”
Aw man, I told you, Lindsay! It’s not the guy! It’s not the guy! He’s a patsy!
“Let’s do it,” I said.
Uh, anyway, Roger Bosco is just a dude – “older and smaller” than the suspect Lindsay saw on the parking garage video tapes. (Do you remember that “Bosco” episode on Seinfeld? It’s the name of a chocolate syrup that George uses as his secret ATM code. He tells J. Peterman’s mother on her death bed, thinking it’s safe to reveal, but she repeats it over and over before she dies.) Still, Lindsay goes at him pretty hard in the interrogation. Look, he’s crying before she even opens her mouth:
He turned his watery blue eyes on me and said, “I was afraid of the helicopter. That’s why I tried to get away.”
C’mon, Detective, what serial killer is afraid of helicopters? I’m telling you, it’s not the guy.
I pulled out a chair and sat down next to Bosco, trying to look behind the “little guy” act for a cocky, murdering psycho. Jacobi walked slowly behind us, turned, and walked back the other way.
“I understand that two million is a lot of money,” I said, keeping my temper in check, showing that I could be trusted, that the hours-long mystery tour from hell was forgiven.
Great stuff in there: “cocky, murdering psycho” and “hours-long mystery tour.” Love it. How is it possible that she has not thought that this Bosco is just a pick-up guy? Like I said the other day, why would the killer set up this elaborate ruse involving naked cops on the Golden Gate Bridge and be stupid enough to pick up the ransom money himself? The possibility has never occurred to you? Ridiculous. Worst. Cop. Ever.
“Two million? I was offered five hundred. I only got the first two fifty.”
I looked at Jacobi but could read nothing in his flat gray eyes. I ignored a new and sinking feeling. Bosco had been in a boat heading straight toward the money. It was indisputable.
“Indisputable?” Are you kidding me? Haven’t you been listening to me? (Also, notice Jacobi’s “flat gray eyes” – if this guy doesn’t drop dead on the job soon, I’ll be shocked. He’s being stalked by the Grim Reaper for sure.)
Lindsay tells Bosco to tell her about the killings and that she can work out a deal with the DA if he cooperates. JPatt drops this little beauty on the last page:
Bosco’s jaw dropped. He looked at me in believable disbelief…
I like that – “believable disbelief.” That’s what I get when people find out about the 117 Days.
Go to Day 69.