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Authors: Michael Connelly

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BOOK: A Darkness More Than Night
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“What happened to her kid?” he asked.
“No idea. She probably gave the child up after the birth. That doesn’t matter. What matters is what it meant to Bosch.”
She was right. But McCaleb didn’t like the loose end.
“Going back to your call to Bosch’s old partner. Is she going to call him and tell him you asked about him?”
“She already did.”
“This is tonight?”
“Yeah, this all just went down. That was that call, her getting back to me. He passed. He told her he was still holding out hope for his wife coming back.”
“Did she tell him it was you who was interested?”
“She wasn’t supposed to.”
“But she probably did. This might mean he knows we’re looking at him.”
“That’s impossible. How?”
“I was just up there tonight. I was in his house. Then the same night he gets this call about you. A guy like Harry Bosch, he doesn’t believe in coincidences, Jaye.”
“Well, when you were up there, how did you handle it?” Winston finally asked.
“Like we said. I wanted more info on Gunn but sidetracked into talking about Bosch. That’s why I was calling you. I got some interesting stuff. Nothing that compares to what you got but stuff that also fits. But if he got this call about you right after I was there . . . I don’t know.”
“Tell me about your stuff.”
“All little stuff. He’s got the photo of the estranged wife prominently displayed in the living room. I was there less than an hour and the guy downed three beers. So there’s the alcohol syndrome. Symptomatic of interior pressures. He also spoke of something he called ‘the big wheel.’ It’s part of his belief system. He doesn’t see the hand of God in things. He sees the Big Wheel. What goes around comes around. He said guys like Gunn don’t really get away. Something always catches up to them. The wheel. I used some specific phrases to see if I could draw a reaction or disagreement. I called the world outside his door the plague. He didn’t disagree. He said he could deal with the plague as long as he got his shots at the carriers. It’s all very subtle, Jaye, but it’s all there. He’s got a Bosch print on the wall in the hallway. The
Garden of Earthly Delights.
It’s got our owl in it.”
“So, he’s named after the guy. If my name was Picasso I’d have a Picasso print on the wall.”
“I acted like I’d never seen it before and asked him what it meant. All he said was that it was the big wheel turning. That’s what it meant to him.”
“Little pieces that fit.”
“There’s still work to be done.”
“Well, are you still on it? Or are you going back?”
“For the time being I’m on it. I’ll be staying over tonight. But I have a charter Saturday. I have to go back for that.”
She didn’t say anything.
“You got anything else?” he finally asked.
“Yeah, I almost forgot.”
“What?”
“The owl from Bird Barrier. It was paid for with a money order from the Postal Service. I got the number from Cameron Riddell and ran a trace on it. It was bought December twenty-second at the post office on Wilcox in Hollywood. It’s about four blocks from the police station where Bosch works.”
He shook his head.
“The laws of physics.”
“What do you mean?”
“For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. When you look into the abyss the abyss looks into you. You know, all the clichés. They’re clichés because they’re true. You don’t go into the darkness without it going into you and taking its piece. Bosch may have gone in too many times. He’s lost his way.”
They were silent for a little while after that and then made plans to meet the following day. As he hung up he saw the hooker leaving the Skylark by herself and heading back up toward Nat’s. She was wearing a denim jacket which she pulled tight around her against the cool night air. She adjusted her wig as she walked toward the bar where she would seek another customer.
Watching her and thinking about Bosch, McCaleb was reminded of all he had and how lucky in life he had been. He was reminded that luck could be a fleeting thing. It had to be earned and then guarded with everything you had. He knew he was not doing that now. He was leaving things unguarded while he went into the dark.

 

 

23
Trial resumed twenty-five minutes after the scheduled nine o’clock start because of the prosecution’s unsuccessful bid to seek both sanctions against the defense for witness intimidation and a delay while the statements of Annabelle Crowe were fully investigated. Sitting behind his cherrywood desk in chambers, Judge Houghton encouraged the investigation but said the trial would not be delayed to accommodate it and no sanctions or other penalties would be issued unless evidence corroborating the witness’s statements could be found. He warned the prosecutors and Bosch, who had taken part in the closed-door meeting by recounting his interview with Crowe, not to leak word of the witness’s accusations to the media.
Five minutes later they were convened in the courtroom and the jurors were brought to their two rows of seats. Bosch returned to the witness stand and was reminded by the judge that he was still under oath. Janis Langwiser went back to the lectern with her legal pad.
“Now, Detective Bosch, we left off yesterday with your conclusion in regard to the death of Jody Krementz being determined to be a homicide. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And that conclusion was based not only on your investigation but on the investigation and autopsy conducted by the coroner’s office as well, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Could you please tell the jurors how the investigation proceeded once you had established the death as a homicide?”
Bosch turned in his seat so that he was looking directly at the jury box as he spoke. The movement was jarring. He had a pounding headache on the left side of his head that was so intense he wondered if people could actually see his temple throbbing.
“Well, my two partners — Jerry Edgar and Kizmin Rider — and I began to sit through — I mean, sift through the physical evidence we had accumulated. We also began conducting extensive interviews with those who knew the victim and were known to have been with her in the last twenty-four hours of her life.”
“You mentioned physical evidence. Please explain to the jury what physical evidence you had accumulated.”
“Actually, there was not a whole lot gathered. There were fingerprints throughout the house that we needed to run down. And there also was a quantity of fiber and hair evidence gathered from on and about the victim’s body.”
J. Reason Fowkkes quickly objected before Bosch could continue his answer.
“Objection to the phrase ‘on or about’ as being vague and misleading.”
“Your Honor,” Langwiser countered, “I think if Mr. Fowkkes gave Detective Bosch a chance to finish the answer to the question there would be nothing vague or misleading. But interrupting a witness in mid-answer to say the answer is vague or misleading is not appropriate.”
“Overruled,” Judge Houghton said, before Fowkkes could get in a rejoinder. “Let the witness complete his answer and then we’ll see how vague it is. Go ahead, Detective Bosch.”
Bosch cleared his throat.
“I was going to say that several samples of pubic hair not —”
“What is ‘several,’ Your Honor,” Fowkkes said. “My ongoing objection is to the lack of preciseness this witness is offering the jury.”
Bosch looked at Langwiser and saw how mad she was getting.
“Judge,” she said, “could we please have direction from the court as to when objections can be raised? Defense counsel is seeking to constantly interrupt the witness because he knows we are moving into an area that is particularly devastating to his —”
“Ms. Langwiser, this isn’t the time for closing arguments,” the judge said, cutting her off. “Mr. Fowkkes, unless you are seeing a dire miscarriage of justice, I want objections stated either before a witness speaks or after he has completed at least a sentence.”
“Your Honor, the consequences
are
dire here. The state is trying to take away my client’s life, simply because his moral views are —”
“Mr. Fowkkes!” the judge boomed. “That goes for you, too, on the closing arguments. Let’s continue the testimony, shall we?”
He turned to Bosch.
“Detective, continue — and try to be a little more precise in your answers.”
Bosch looked at Langwiser and saw her close her eyes momentarily. The judge’s offhanded direction to Bosch had been what Fowkkes was going for. A hint to the jurors that there might be vagueness, maybe even obfuscation in the prosecution’s case. Fowkkes had successfully goaded the judge into appearing to agree with his objections.
Bosch glanced over at Fowkkes and saw him sitting with arms folded and a satisfied, if not smug, look on his face. Bosch looked back down at the murder book in front of him.
“Can I refer to my notes?” he asked.
He was told he could. He opened the binder and turned to the evidence reports. Looking at the medical examiner’s evidence collection report, he began again.
“Prior to autopsy an evidence-collecting brush was passed through the victim’s pubic hair. The comb collected eight samples of pubic hair that subsequent laboratory testing showed to have come from someone other than the victim.”
He looked up at Langwiser.
“Were those pubic hairs from eight different people?”
“No, the lab tests identified them as coming from the same unknown person.”
“And what did this indicate to you?”
“That the victim likely had sexual relations with someone between the time of her last bathing and her death.”
Langwiser looked down at her notes.
“Was there any other hair evidence collected on the victim or at the scene of the crime, Detective?”
Bosch turned a page in the murder book.
“Yes, a single strand of hair measuring two and one half inches long was found entangled on the clasp of a gold necklace the victim wore around her neck. The clasp was located at the back of the victim’s neck. This, too, was identified during lab analysis as coming from someone other than the victim.”
“Going back for a moment to the pubic hair. Were there any other indications or evidence collected from the body or the crime scene indicating the victim had engaged in sexual relations in the time between bathing and her death?
“No, there wasn’t. No semen was collected from the vagina.”
“Is there a conflict between that and the finding of the pubic hair?”
“No conflict. It was simply an indication that a condom could have been used during the sex act.”
“Okay, moving on, Detective. Fingerprints. You mentioned fingerprints were found in the house. Please tell us about that area of the investigation.”
Bosch turned to the fingerprint report in the binder. “There were a total of sixty-eight exemplars of fingerprints gathered inside the house where the victim was found. The victim and her roommate accounted for fifty-two of these. It was determined that the remaining sixteen were left by a total of seven people.”
“And who were these people?”
Bosch read the list of names from the binder. Through questioning from Langwiser he explained who each person was and how the detectives traced down when and why they had been in the house. They were friends of the roommates as well as family members, a former boyfriend and a prior date. The prosecution team knew that the defense would attempt to go to town on the prints, using them as red herrings to bait the jury away from the facts of the case. So the testimony moved slowly as Bosch tediously explained the location and origin of each fingerprint found and identified in the house. He ended with testimony about a full set of fingerprints found on the headboard of the bed in which the victim was found. He and Langwiser knew that these were the prints that Fowkkes would get the most yardage out of, so Langwiser attempted to minimize the potential damage by having it revealed during her examination of the witness.
“How far from the victim’s body were these prints located?”
Bosch looked at the report in the binder.
“Two point three feet.”
“Exactly where on the headboard?”
“On the outside facing, between the headboard and the wall.”
“Was there a lot of space there?”
“About two inches.”
“How would someone get their fingerprints there?”
Fowkkes objected, saying it was outside Bosch’s realm of expertise to determine how a set of fingerprints got anywhere, but the judge allowed the question.
“Only two ways I can think of,” Bosch answered. “They got there when the bed was not pushed quite up to the wall. Or the person who left the prints had reached their fingers through the opening in the slats of the headboard and left them while holding onto that particular cross board.”
BOOK: A Darkness More Than Night
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