“Did I? I don’t know. I guess I was just wondering.”

“Why would you wonder if we were with Internal Affairs?”

Reineke did not look at him. The classic act of a liar.

“I don’t know. I was just guessing.”

“No, Louis, you were just lying. Why did you ask about IAD?”

“Look, man, I just was goofing. I was trying to think of something to ask.”

“Call the manager, Louis. Tell him he better get here for the three o’clock because you are going to the station with us. We’ll sit you down in a room for a while and when you’re finished goofing and want to tell us the truth, then we’ll talk.”

“No, man, I’ll lose my job here, man. I can’t go to the station now!”

Bosch made a move toward him.

“Let’s go.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you. I don’t owe the guy anything anyway.”

“What guy?”

Reineke shrugged off any further hesitation.

“The guys you asked about. They’re all one guy. He’s a cop.”

“A cop?” Bosch asked.

“I think so. He says he is. He takes photos for the police. All the crime scenes.”

“He told you this?”

“Yeah, he told me. He said that’s why he uses all the different names when he comes in. Because it’s like moonlighting and that’s not allowed. When you came in asking about all those names, I thought you were like Internal Affairs and you were onto him.”

Bosch looked over at Rider and then back at Reineke.

“Louis, call the manager. You still have to come to the station to look at photographs.”

“Ah, come on, man! I told you everything I know. I don’t even know the guy’s real name.”

“But you know his real face. Let’s go.”

Bosch took him by the arm and started to lead him toward the door to the counter. As they approached, Edgar stepped into the studio.

“About time,” Bosch said.

“Where’s the crime scene?” Edgar said.