“Never mind,” he said. “Just don’t mention that to anybody. I should be back in a couple days.”
“A couple days?” Lourdes exclaimed. “Harry, the proverbial iron is hot right now. This guy just tried to strike for the first time we know about in eight months. We now have the mask. Things are happening and we really need you in here.”
“I know, I know. But this other thing can’t wait and it looks like I have to go to San Diego.”
“You’re killing me, Harry. What’s the case?”
“I can’t tell you right now. When I can, I will.”
“That’s nice of you. And it’s more important than a guy running around up here raping Mexican girls.”
“It’s not more important. But we both know that the Screen Cutter is lying low right now with all of this attention. Unless he’s already split. And if he has, then we’re spinning our wheels, anyway.”
“Okay, fine, I’ll let the cap know and I’m sure he’ll be happy not to have you around. Last thing he wants is for you to crack this thing anyway.”
“There you go.”
“No, there you go. Running out on the case.”
“Look, I’m not running out. This other thing will clear soon. And I’m only a phone call away. In fact, there’s something I was going to do today but you need to do it now instead.”
“And what’s that?”
“The caller who led me to the mask said the guy was checking car doors while he was running.”
“So?”
“So something happened that messed up his getaway.”
“Yeah, Beatriz clocked him with the broomstick.”
“Something more. He lost his ride.”
“You mean you think he had a getaway driver? Maybe we’re looking for more than one suspect. Different masks, different rapists, but working together—is that it?”
“No, the DNA is from one offender.”
“Right, forgot. So you think he’s a rapist with a getaway driver?”
“I thought about that but it’s a long shot. Most serial offenders are loners. There are exceptions but it’s rare. Most of the time you go with the percentages and you come out ahead.”
“Okay, then what?”
“I think you should go out and search Beatriz’s house again. Do you guys have a metal detector?”
“A metal detector? For what?”
“The backyard by the window the Screen Cutter jumped through. I think maybe he lost the keys to his getaway car when he went through the window and hit the ground. There’s a bed of vines and ground cover there.”
“Right, I saw.”
“It was a panic move. He’s disoriented by the blow from the broomstick, he drops the knife, jumps through the window, and falls on the ground. His keys could have gone flying. So what’s he do? He can’t sit there looking through the bushes and vines. He’s gotta get out of there. He just starts running.”
“That to me sounds like the long shot.”
“Maybe. But this guy is a planner and there he was, running down the street, trying to find an unlocked car to boost.”
“True.”
“Anyway, what else are you going to do, chase call-in tips and look-alikes all day?”
“There you go again against the tip line. But you do have a point. And they do have a metal detector over at Public Works for finding underground pipes and cables and stuff. We used it once to find a gun a banger wrapped in plastic and buried in his backyard. Tied him to an assault with a deadly. If Dockweiler’s over there, he’ll let us use it. If he’s in a good mood.”
“Grab that and run it through the bushes and the ground cover under that window.”
“You don’t grab it. It’s like a lawnmower. It’s got wheels.”
“Then take Sisto with you. Give him a chance to redeem himself.”
“Redeem himself for what?”
“I don’t really think his heart was in it the other day. He was babysitting the scene for us, playing on his phone the whole time, not paying attention. Not his case, not invested. Between you and me, his search was lazy. We’re lucky he found the knife without cutting himself on it.”
“But we’re not judgmental, are we?”
“Back in the day, we’d say a guy like that couldn’t find shit in his mustache with a comb.”
“We are just brutal!”
“I know what I saw. I’m glad I’m working with you and not him.”
She paused and Bosch knew it was to smile.
“I think there’s a compliment in there somewhere,” she said then. “From the great Harry Bosch, no less. Anyway, sounds like a plan. I’ll let you know.”
“Remember, you find something, you owe me a beer. You also should ask Sisto about auto thefts Friday from Area Two—the other side of Maclay. Maybe the Screen Cutter grabbed a car over there.”
“Aren’t you just full of ideas today.”
“Yeah, that’s why I get the big bucks.”
“And all because of one of the tip line calls that you swore up and down were going to be a complete waste of time.”
“When you’re wrong, you’re wrong, and I admit I was wrong.”
“You heard it here first, folks.”
“I gotta go, Bella. Be careful out there.”
“You too—with whatever your super-secret case is.”
“Roger that.”
They disconnected.
24
While Haller studied the letter and will that Bosch had unpackaged and spread with gloved hands on the dining room table, Harry worked his computer, seeing if he could get access to 1970 birth records in San Diego County. Whitney Vance’s death was a game changer. He felt a more urgent need to nail down the heir question. He needed to get this to the DNA level. He needed to find Dominick Santanello’s daughter.
Unfortunately he found that the Bureau of Vital Records and Statistics had digital records going back only twenty-four years. As he had in his search for Santanello’s birth certificate, Bosch would need to look through physical records and microfilm by hand to find a San Diego County birth in 1970. He was writing down the address for the Bureau on Rosecrans Street when Haller completed his first assessment of the two documents.
“This is off the charts,” he said.
Bosch looked at him.
“What is?” he asked.
“Every damn thing about this,” Haller said. “What you have here is a holographic will, okay? That means it was handwritten. And I checked on the way over. Holographic wills are accepted as legal instruments upon verification in California.”
“Vance probably knew that.”
“Oh, he knew a lot. That’s why he sent you the pen. Not for the bullshit reason in the will. He sent it because he knew verification is the key. You say that when you met with him last week at the mansion, he was of sound mind and body—like he says here?”
“That’s right.”
“And exhibiting no sign of illness or health threat?”
“Other than being old and fragile, none.”
“I wonder then what the coroner will find.”
“I wonder if the coroner will even look. An eighty-five-year-old man comes through, they’re not going to look too long and hard at him. Eighty-five-year-olds die. It’s no mystery.”
“You mean there won’t be an autopsy?”
“There should be but that doesn’t mean there will be. If the Pasadena Police signed off on it at the scene as a natural, there might not be a full autopsy unless there’s visible evidence to the contrary upon medical examiner’s inspection.”
“I guess we’ll see. You have a connection inside Pasadena PD?”
“Nope. You?”
“Nope.”
Upon his arrival, Haller’s driver had carried in the photocopier/printer from the Lincoln, then returned to wait behind the wheel. Haller now pulled gloves from the cardboard dispenser Bosch had placed on the table. He stretched a pair on and started making copies of the documents.
“Why don’t you have a copier here?” he asked while he worked.
“I did,” Bosch said. “Had a printer-copier combo but Maddie took it to school with her. Haven’t gotten around to getting another.”
“How’s she doing down there?”
“Good. How about Hayley?”
“She’s good too. Totally into it.”