Resurrection Walk

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.”

“Okay, what else? Did you tell her about your theory that Dexter shot himself?”

“I did. I thought maybe it would scare her away from trying him as an adult. If they move this to superior court, it will be open court and this will all come out publicly. Juvenile court is closed to the public and press.”

“And what did she say?”

“She sort of laughed it off and said ‘Good try.’ She thought I was bluffing.”

“Who’s the prosecutor?”

“Shay Larkin. She’s younger than me.”

“Well, she’ll find out it’s no bluff. How’s Anthony?”

“He’s scared shitless. I need to get him out but there’s nothing I can do — legally, at least.”

“What’s that mean?”

“I want to hold a press conference. Put this stuff out there about Dexter and put pressure on them to look at him and know that this is no bluff.”

“Won’t that give them a heads-up on your case?”

“Yes, but if it gets Anthony out... I also think it would be better if Mickey does it. The media follows him around like dogs. He would draw attention to this.”

“That’s an idea.”