“If there is something better.”
“Well, that’s actually what I meant when I asked what you were thinking. I wasn’t really asking about Lucinda. I meant the files. Anything helpful to our cause?”
“Well, there’s not a lot here, but the chrono is revealing.”
“How so?”
“I think you could make an argument for tunnel vision. Once the GSR came back positive on Lucinda, they ignored everyone else.”
“They focused solely on her?”
“Pretty much. The chrono says they initially called out the sergeant who oversaw the gang-suppression unit Roberto Sanz was assigned to. A guy named Stockton. They wanted to talk about the possibility that Roberto was killed in revenge for his taking out that gangbanger in the shooting the year before. But it looks like that line of inquiry stopped as soon as the GSR came back and pointed at Lucinda.”
“Good. That might be something I could use down the road. Anything else?”
“Just that. They dropped all other possible avenues of investigation once they had the GSR test.”
I nodded approvingly. Tunnel vision was a defense lawyer’s best friend. You show that the cops were not looking at other possibilities and it can make a jury suspicious. When you’ve got them suspicious, you’ve got them losing respect for the integrity of the investigators and you’ve sown the seeds of doubt. Reasonable doubt. Of course, a habeas petition would be decided not by a jury but by a judge who would be wise to the tricks of the trade and much harder to convince. But Bosch’s observation was still a good thing to have in my back pocket.
“I could look into that angle,” Bosch said. “The revenge aspect.”
“No,” I said. “That’s not our job. Our job is to prove our client innocent. Pointing out that the original investigators were lazy or had tunnel vision helps our cause. But we’re not going to chase alternative theories. We don’t have time for that.”
“Got it.”
“This is different, Harry. You’re not a homicide investigator. We’re not solving the crime. We’re proving Lucinda didn’t do it. There’s a difference.”
“I said I got it.”
Bosch went back to the file and started reading again. A few minutes later, he stopped. “Her story hasn’t changed,” he said. “I’m reading the transcript from the police interview. Her story back then was exactly what it was today. That’s gotta count for something.”
“Yes, but not enough. It’s an indicator of truthfulness, like the eye contact, but we need more. A lot more. By the way, why did you ask her back there about when Roberto got the tattoo?”
“I think it’s important to know. You get a tattoo and it’s sort of a life statement.”
“Says the man with a rat tat on his arm.”
“That’s another story. But to get a tattoo that most people won’t see, that says something. I just thought it would be good to know, but it came after they split.”
“Got it.”
Bosch continued reading the file. We were halfway back to Los Angeles. I started thinking about next steps with the case and whether to take it federal or state. There were arguments for and against both. Federal judges weren’t beholden to the electorate and would not hesitate to set a convicted murderer free if the evidence of innocence was there. But with lighter caseloads, federal jurists were generally more scrupulous in their consideration of motions and evidence.
My phone rang over the car’s Bluetooth connection. It was Lucinda Sanz calling collect from the prison. I accepted the call and told her that Bosch and I were still driving back to the city and we were both listening.
“I called my mother and she put Eric on so I could talk to him,” she said. “He said he would talk to you.”
“When?” I asked.
“Whenever you want,” she said. “He’s at the house now.”
I looked over at Bosch and he nodded. It had been his idea to talk to the boy.
“And your mother would be all right with it?” I asked.
“She said yes,” Lucinda said.
“All right, give me her number and I’ll call and tell her we’re heading there now.”
“Today? Are you sure?”
“Might as well, Cindi. We’ve got the time today. I don’t know about tomorrow.”
She gave the number and I saw Bosch write it down. I hit the mute button on the dashboard screen. “You got anything you want to ask while we have her?” I asked.
He hesitated but then nodded. I took the mute off.
“Cindi?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“Harry has something he wants to ask,” I said. “Go ahead, Harry.”
Bosch leaned toward the center of the dashboard as if he thought he could be heard more clearly that way.
“Cindi,” he said. “Do you remember being told by the detectives that your arms and hands tested positive for gunshot residue?”
“They said that but it was a lie,” Lucinda said. “I didn’t shoot the gun.”
“I know, and that’s what you told them. My question is about the test. In the interview with the detectives, they said a man tested you but you told them it was a woman. Do you remember that?”
“The deputy just came up to me and said she had to test me for a gun. And she wiped my hands and my arms and the front of my jacket.”
“So it was definitely a female?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know her or get her name?”
Before she could answer, an electronic voice interrupted the call and announced the connection would be terminated in one minute. Bosch prompted Lucinda once the interruption was over.
“Cindi, who was the deputy who tested you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think she told me her name. She said she worked with Robbie. I remember that.”
“Was she a detective?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, was she in a sheriff’s uniform or plain clothes?”
“No, she was in regular clothes. She had her badge on a chain.”
“Around her neck?”
“Yes.”
“Would you know her if you saw her again?”
“Uh, I’m not so sure... I think yes, I—”
The call ended.
“Shit, she’s gone,” Bosch said.
“What was that about?” I asked.
“I’m reading the interview transcript right here. The detectives confront her with the GSR and explain that a deputy, who they don’t name but refer to as he, swiped her for GSR. Then she says it was a she.”
“Okay. So what’s the issue?”
“Well, the whole thing reads as off to me. I don’t know what the sheriff’s department crime scene protocols are but they can’t be that different from the LAPD’s. And I can tell you, at the LAPD, gunshot-residue testing is done by the detectives. Or at the very least, a criminalist. Definitely not somebody who works with the victim.”
I now remembered reading the exchange in the transcript. It hadn’t raised a flag for me in the way it did for Bosch. But that was Bosch. I had seen it before. He had this facility for seeing the details and evidence of a case and how it all matched up, or didn’t. He was playing chess while most people were playing checkers.
“Interesting,” I finally said. “So it was a female detective?”
“Not necessarily,” Bosch said. “It could have been somebody called in from home, no time to put on a uniform. But it sounds like somebody from Roberto’s unit. Detectives usually carry the badge on the belt. A badge on a chain indicates a plainclothes unit, like gangs or drugs. They use the chain so they can hide it and pull it out when shit goes down, like a raid or at a crime scene.”
“Got it.”