Page 85 of Resurrection Walk

“Yeah, I went,” Moder said. “Had to go to the big library downtown.”

“And what did you find there?”

“I found the stories she wanted.”

“Okay. What did you do then?”

Moder glanced at Bosch and then up at Cisco.

“Is this guy going to take care of me?” he asked them.

Cisco and Bosch stayed silent. I answered the question.

“I need to know what you know first,” I said. “We can talk about what I can do for you after. What did you do when you found the newspaper stories?”

“I had to pay them to print them out for me,” Moder said. “Then when she called me back, I read them to her. Each one.”

“She called you collect from the prison? Or did she have a cell phone in there?”

“She borrowed a cell. I don’t know how she got it.”

“But she called you on your cell, right?”

“Yeah, my cell.”

“Where is that phone?”

“Uh, I don’t have it anymore. I sold it. I needed the money.”

“When?”

“When did I sell it, you mean?”

“Yes, when did you sell it?”

“A couple months ago. Thereabouts.”

“Where did you sell it?”

“Uh, actually I traded it to a guy.”

For drugs. He didn’t need to add that part. Everyone in the room knew it.

“Do you have any bills from the carrier?” I asked. “From the phone company?”

“Not really,” Moder said. “I wasn’t that good at paying the bill, to tell you the truth. They cut me off and then I traded it.”

“What about the number? Do you remember it?”

“I don’t really remember the number.”

“Then what about the printouts from the library? Where are they?”

“I think I left them at my last place. They’re gone.”

I nodded. Of course he didn’t have them — that would have been too easy. I thought about whether to pursue this further. Drug addicts were extremely unreliable witnesses who could hurt you more than help you on the stand. There appeared to be nothing I could use to back up his story.

“Are you going to pay me?” Moder asked. “I need to get well, man.”

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