“How do you know?”

“Mora had some photos of Magna Cum Loudly. In action, as Mora says. And there’s a tattoo-it’s Yosemite Sam, you know, the cartoon?-to the left of the dimple over the left side of her ass.”

“Well, did you find that on the body?”

“Didn’t notice it ’cause of the severe skin discoloration. But I didn’t really look at the backside, either.”

“What’s going on with that? I thought you said the cut was going to be done yesterday.”

“Yeah, that’s what they said, but I called over and they’re still backed up from the weekend. They haven’t even prepped it yet. I called Sakai a little while ago and he’s going to take a look in the freezer after lunch. Check on the tattoo.”

Bosch looked back at his stack. The recurrent theme was the young ages of the missing people. L.A. was a drain which drew a steady stream of the nation’s runaways. But there were many who disappeared from here as well.

Bosch finished his stack without seeing the name Rebecca Kaminski, her alias, or anyone that matched her description. He looked at his watch and knew he had to get back to court. He took another stack off Randolph’s desk anyway and began to wade through it. As he searched, he listened to the banter between Edgar and Randolph. It was clear that they had known each other before this day’s meeting. Edgar called him Morg. Bosch figured they might’ve known each other from the Black Peace Officers Association.

He found nothing in the second stack.

“I gotta go. I’m gonna be late.”

“Okay, man. I’ll let you know what we find.”

“And the prints, too, okay?”

“You got it.”

Court was already in session when Bosch got to courtroom 4. He quietly opened the gate, went through and took his seat next to Belk. The judge eyed him disdainfully but said nothing. Bosch looked up to see Assistant Chief Irvin Irving in the witness seat. Money Chandler was at the lectern.

“Good going,” Belk whispered to him. “Late for your own trial.”

Bosch ignored him and watched as Chandler began asking Irving general questions about his background and years on the force. They were preliminary questions; Bosch knew he couldn’t have missed much.

“Look,” Belk whispered next. “If you don’t care about this, at least pretend you do for the jury’s sake. I know we are only talking about taxpayers’ money here, but act like it’s going to be your own money they will be deciding to give.”

“I got tied up. It won’t happen again. You know, I’m trying to figure out this case. Maybe that doesn’t matter to you, since you’ve already decided.”

He leaned back in his chair to get away from Belk. He was reminded that he had not eaten lunch by a sharp signal of resentment from his stomach. He tried to concentrate on the testimony.

“As assistant chief, what does your command include?” Chandler asked Irving.

“I am presently the commanding officer of all detective services.”

“At the time of the Dollmaker investigation, you were one rank below. A deputy chief, correct?”

“Yes.”

“As such you were in charge of the Internal Affairs Division, correct?”

“Yes. IAD and Operations Bureau, which basically means I was in charge of managing and allocating the department’s personnel.”

“What is the mission of the IAD, as it is known?”

“To police the police. We investigate all citizen complaints, all interior complaints of misconduct.”

“Do you investigate police shootings?”

“Not per se. There is an Officer Involved Shooting team that handles the initial investigation. After that, if there is an allegation of misconduct or any impropriety, it is forwarded to IAD for follow-up.”

“Yes, and what do you recall of the IAD investigation of the shooting of Norman Church by Detective Harry Bosch?”

“I recall all of it.”

“Why was it referred to IAD?”

“The shooting team determined that Detective Bosch had not followed procedures. The shooting itself was within departmental policy but some of his actions prior to the gunfire were not.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“Yes. Basically, he went there alone. He went to this man’s apartment without backup, placing himself in danger. It ended in the shooting.”

“It’s called cowboying it, isn’t it?”

“I’ve heard the phrase. I don’t use it.”

“But does it fit?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“You wouldn’t know. Chief, would you know if Mr. Church would be alive today if Detective Bosch had not created this situation by playing cow-”

“Objection!” Belk shrieked.

But before he could walk to the lectern to argue, Judge Keyes sustained the objection and told Chandler to avoid speculative questions.

“Yes, Your Honor,” she said pleasantly. “Chief, basically what you have testified to is that Detective Bosch set in motion a series of events that ultimately ended with an unarmed man being killed, am I right?”

“That is incorrect. The investigation found no substantive indication or evidence that Detective Bosch deliberately set this scenario in motion. It was spur of the moment. He was checking out a lead. When it looked good, he should have called for backup. But he didn’t. He went in. He identified himself and Mr. Church made the furtive move. And here we are. That is not to say that the outcome would have been different had there been a backup. I mean, anybody who would disobey an order from a police officer holding a gun would probably do it with two officers holding guns.”

Chandler successfully had the last sentence of the answer struck from the record.

“To come to the conclusion that Detective Bosch did not intentionally set the situation into motion, did your investigators study all facets of the shooting?”

“Yes, indeed.”

“How about Detective Bosch, was he studied?”

“Unquestionably. He was rigorously questioned about his actions.”

“And about his motives?”

“His motives?”

“Chief, did you or any of your investigators know that Detective Bosch’s mother was slain in Hollywood about thirty years ago by a killer who was never arrested? That prior to that, she had a record for multiple arrests for loitering?”

Bosch felt his skin go hot, as if klieg lights had been turned on him, and that everyone in the courtroom was staring at him. He was sure they were. But he looked only at Irving, who stared silently ahead, a palsied look on his face, the capillaries on either side of his nose flaring. When Irving didn’t answer, Chandler prompted him.

“Did you know, Chief? It is referenced in Detective Bosch’s personnel file. When he applied to the force, he had to say if he had ever been the victim of a crime. He lost his mother, he wrote.”

Finally, Irving said, “No, I did not know.”

“I believe that loitering was a euphemism for prostitution in the 1950s, when Los Angeles was engaged in a denial of crime problems such as rampant prostitution on Hollywood Boulevard, is that correct?”

“I don’t recall that.”

Chandler asked to approach the witness and handed Irving a thin stack of papers. She gave him nearly a minute to read through them. He furrowed his brow as he read and Bosch could not see his eyes. The muscles of his cheeks bunched together below his temples.

“What is that, Chief Irving?” Chandler asked.

“It is what we call a due diligence report detailing the investigation of a homicide. It is dated November 3, 1962.”

“What is a due diligence report?”

“Every unsolved case is looked at annually-we call it due diligence-until such time that we feel the prognosis for bringing the case to a successful conclusion is hopeless.”

“What is the victim’s name and circumstances of her death?”

“Marjorie Phillips Lowe. She was raped and strangled, October 31, 1961. Her body was found in an alley behind Hollywood Boulevard between Vista and Gower.”