Bosch admired what Ballard had done. Rather than sending him a case extracted from a law enforcement computer and risk losing her job, she had looked up the case and found links to newspaper stories that were available to anyone. In fact, he was annoyed with himself for not thinking to run Lucinda Sanz’s name through an L.A. Times search before going to Ballard.
He clicked on the second link, and another story on the Sanz case downloaded. It had been published nine months after the first story.
Slain Hero Deputy’s Ex-Wife Convicted By Scott Anderson, Times Staff Writer
The former wife of a Los Angeles County sheriff’s deputy once lauded for his bravery was sentenced to prison Thursday for killing him after a dispute over the custody arrangements of their young son.
Lucinda Sanz, 34, pleaded no contest to a single count of manslaughter in Los Angeles Superior Court. Under a plea agreement, she was sentenced by Judge Adam Castle to a term of 11 years in prison.
Sanz had maintained her innocence in the killing of Deputy Roberto Sanz. He was leaving the Quartz Hill home where his ex-wife and son lived when he was shot twice in the back. He died on the front lawn of the house. The son did not witness his father’s killing.
The defendant’s attorney, Frank Silver, explained that his client had no choice but to take the deal offered by prosecutors.
“I know she has been steadfast in claiming she’s innocent,” Silver said. “But the evidence was stacked against her. At some point the reality was that she could throw the dice and go to trial and likely end up spending the rest of her life behind bars, or she could be assured of some daylight. She’s a young woman. If she does well, she’ll get out and still have a life and her son waiting for her.”
The couple had a long history of domestic issues, including restraining orders, court-appointed child-visitation monitors, and a past assault charge against Lucinda Sanz that was later dismissed. On the day of the killing, she sent her ex-husband several threatening text messages. No weapon was recovered at the scene, but sheriff’s investigators said that the defendant had enough time to hide the gun and that her hands and clothing tested positive for gunshot residue after the shooting.
“Where was the gun?” Silver said. “That’s always going to bother me. I think I could have done something with that at trial, but I had to go with my client’s wishes. She wanted to take the deal.”
It was Lucinda Sanz who initially called 911, and investigators said there was a nine-minute response time, giving her ample opportunity to hide the gun. Multiple searches of the house and the surrounding area did not produce the gun, and investigators have not ruled out the possibility that there was an accomplice to the crime who secreted the weapon.
Roberto Sanz, 35, was an 11-year veteran of the sheriff’s department. He was assigned to the Antelope Valley substation, where he was part of a gang-suppression team. A year before his death he received the sheriff’s medal of valor after being engaged in a gun battle with four gang members who ambushed him at a hamburger stand. Sanz shot and killed one of the assailants and wounded another; the two others were never identified or apprehended.
By pleading no contest — technically, nolo contendere — Lucinda Sanz did not have to acknowledge in court killing her ex-husband. Her mother and brother watched as she was led off to prison. Part of the plea agreement included her placement at the California Institution for Women in Chino so that she could be close to family, including her son, who will be raised by his grandmother.
“This isn’t how it should be,” Muriel Lopez, Lucinda Sanz’s mother, said outside court. “She should be raising her son. Roberto always threatened to take him away from her. In his death he finally did.”
Bosch reread this story too. It carried many more details of the crime. The new details in the second story bothered him. The murder weapon was never found despite what must have been intensive and repeated searches. That suggested that it had somehow been taken far away from the scene. Since Sanz was a deputy, Bosch suspected that there would have been a full-court press on the investigation and that the first search would have been followed by at least two more with different teams and different sets of eyes. He was satisfied that the gun was not there, and that suggested preplanning and premeditation.
But shooting Sanz in the back as he walked across the front yard to his car suggested a spur-of-the-moment act of anger. It contradicted any idea that the murder was planned. That and the missing murder weapon were most likely the reasons the prosecution floated a deal to Silver for a reduced charge.
Bosch knew of Frank Silver and had once faced him on a case. He wasn’t one of the elite lawyers in town. He was no Lincoln Lawyer. He was a solid B-level defense attorney who had likely known he couldn’t win the case if it went to trial. Despite what he had told the newspaper, he probably welcomed the offer of a disposition, and that would have entered into his selling it to his client.
Bosch picked up his phone and sent a text to Ballard thanking her without mentioning what he was thanking her for. He then pushed his luck by cryptically asking if she had found anything on the other thing — meaning the other name he had given her.
While he waited for a response, he ran Edward Dale Coldwell through the Times search engine but drew a blank. He tried it without the middle name and drew another blank.
He checked his phone. Nothing from Ballard.
Bosch didn’t like waiting for information. It made him restless, agitated. All his years as an investigator had taught him that momentum was key and losing it could permanently stall a case. This applied even to cold cases, where the momentum was most often carried inside the investigator’s own head. Bosch felt as though he had little momentum now, but the contradiction he had seen in the newspaper stories about the Sanz case coupled with the letter from Lucinda had lit a fire in him. He wanted to keep moving on it if there was no progress yet on Coldwell.
He picked up his phone but hesitated before calling Ballard. He didn’t want to lose her as a friend and source, and he knew he would if he kept pestering her with calls asking her to break the rules.
He put the phone down but checked the time on its screen. He silently cursed himself for taking the nap that had sucked up the afternoon. Even if he could make it downtown to the courthouse, there would be little time for him to review what might still be in Lucinda Sanz’s case file in the basement archives. That trip would need to wait till the morning.
He picked up the phone again and called his daughter, knowing that hearing her voice and learning what was happening in her world would pull him away from Lucinda Sanz and the frustration of the momentum block. But the call went to voice mail. Disappointed, Bosch left a perfunctory update, telling her that he was doing fine and was busy with a couple of investigations for Mickey Haller.
After disconnecting, he remembered the text from Jennifer Aronson. She had asked him to call her. He did and could tell she was driving as she took the call.
“Harry, I talked to the prosecutor and she admitted that Anthony’s prints were not found in the house on Califa.”
“Did she say if there were any other prints not belonging to the occupants?”
“I asked but she said I have to wait for the next discovery drop. It was hard enough to get her to admit Anthony’s prints weren’t there.”
“So then when’s the next discovery drop?”
“She said she’s waiting until the judge decides whether Anthony will be tried as an adult.”