“We drove to Raffa’s father’s place. Where they fixed cars up front and chopped ’em up in the back. Raffa came to the car and Berto told him. He gave him a number to call. And he also warned El Chopo that Bonner was a cop. He said he had to be careful about dealing with him because he was a cop and he was serious people.”
“What does that mean, ‘serious people’？”
“You know, like don’t cross him. There are consequences for shit like that.”
“Did that mean he was a killer?”
“I don’t know. It meant he was serious.”
“Okay. Were there other times Bonner was mentioned?”
“Yeah, when Raffa brought the money to Humberto. He said Bonner got it for him from a doctor and he had to sign papers and all of that.”
“What kind of doctor?”
“I didn’t hear that part or they didn’t talk about it. Just a doctor is what I remember.”
“How come you never told this to your handler at the LAPD — about the banker being a cop?”
“Because I’m not a fool.”
“What’s that mean?”
“For one thing, if something happened, Berto would know it came from me because he told me about Bonner in the first place. And the other thing is that you don’t rat out cops to cops. That’s just stupid. Next thing you know, somebody rats you out to your man. You understand what I’m saying?”
“I do. How do you think Berto met Bonner in the first place?”
“I don’t know that. They just got together somehow. They knew each other before I was in the picture.”
Ballard knew that was a key connection to make.
“When was that?” she asked. “When you entered the picture?”
“Me and Berto got together when I was seventeen,” Darla said. “That was ’04. And we were together for six years.”
Ballard had some respect for Darla and her path. To come out of East Hollywood and end up on the beach was an unlikely journey. She could see that Darla carried a certain pride in it, despite the choices of men she used to get there.
“Do you know if there were other transactions between Berto and Bonner?” Ballard asked. “I mean besides the deal with Raffa.”
“Yeah, they had business,” Darla said. “Like when someone needed big money, they would, like, talk and shit. I think there were other deals.”
Ballard looked at Bosch to see if he had any questions she had not covered. He nodded.
“How did Berto and Bonner communicate?” he asked.
“By phone mostly,” Darla said. “Sometimes they would meet up.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
Darla looked away when she answered. It was the first time in the conversation that Ballard had seen a tell indicating untruthfulness. Ballard glanced at Bosch and he nodded slightly. He had seen it too.
“You sure?” Ballard asked.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Darla said. “You think I asked Berto about his business all the time? That would get me killed.”
Darla looked away again while making her protest. Ballard knew she was hiding something. She thought about how to pull it free and considered what Darla would be self-conscious about discussing. Then she hit on what it probably was.
“Come on, Darla, tell us.”
“I already told you. I don’t know.”
“You did see Bonner, didn’t you?”
“I told you, no.”
“You followed him. Humberto. You followed him because you thought he was going to see a girl, but it was Bonner. You saw them together.”
Darla rocked back on the couch as though shocked by Ballard’s jump.
“Where’d they meet?” Ballard pressed. “It’s important, Darla.” Darla flipped a hand in the air as if to say Why not? You’ve gotten everything else.
“They went up to that place on Franklin where the chicken’s so good.”
Ballard glanced at Bosch.
“Birds?” she asked.
The place that gave cops a discount.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Darla said. “I saw them and then I turned around and left.”
“What did Bonner look like?” Ballard asked.
“I don’t know, white. He was a white guy.”
“What color hair?”
“He had a shaved head. Fucker thought he was Vin Diesel.”
Ballard thought about the description Gabriel Raffa had given of the man in the hoodie.
“Was Bonner in uniform?” she asked.