Resurrection Walk

Haller pointed to the map on the easel and spoke with exaggerated astonishment.

“That was Sanger’s phone?” he said. “She was following Sanz?”

“It appears so,” Bosch said.

“But at the ARCO, the phone suddenly went dark.”

“Correct.”

“And when did it come back online, according to the data?”

“That number, which is carried by AT and T, does not come up on any cell tower in the Antelope Valley from that point at the ARCO station until twenty-two minutes after Lucinda Sanz’s 911 call reporting gunshots. That indicates that during that time, the phone was either turned off, on airplane mode, or out of reach of the area’s towers.”

“And where is the phone located when it does come back up after the shooting?”

“It reappears in Palmdale at a restaurant called Brandy’s Café.”

“Did you track it from there?”

Bosch pointed again at the map.

“Yes, the second blue line on the map. It goes from the café to the scene of the shooting at Lucinda Sanz’s house.”

“All told, how many minutes was the blue phone offline?”

“Eighty-four minutes.”

“And Roberto Sanz was shot during those eighty-four minutes, correct?”

Morris leaped to his feet, shouting, “Objection! Your Honor, this is fantasy. I beg the court to stop this sheer speculation and innuendo when there is not an ounce of evidence that supports any conclusion other than Lucinda Sanz being the shooter of her ex-husband.”

“Your Honor,” Haller said, “the witness has worked three hundred murder cases. He knows what he is doing and knows what he’s saying. Mr. Morris, with his barrage of objections, is just trying to—”

“Enough!” Coelho cried. “The objection is overruled for reasons previously stated. Continue, Mr. Haller.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Haller said. “Mr. Bosch, other than Sergeant Sanger turning off her phone, putting it on airplane mode, or being out of reach of the towers, is there any other explanation as to why her phone dropped its connection to the cell towers in the Antelope Valley?”

“No, nothing that I can think of.”

Haller looked up at the judge from the lectern.

“Your Honor,” he said, “I have no further questions.”

Part Eight Subpoena Duces Tecum

34

The rooftop lounge at the Conrad gave us a great view across downtown. It was the kind of view that made you love this city because it reminded you that anything was possible down there on the street.

But we were having none of that — Bosch, Arslanian, Cisco, and me. We sat there silently mourning the losses of the day. Bosch’s testimony had been the lone shining moment for Lucinda Sanz’s cause, but even that, it turned out, was too good to be true. Judge Coelho granted the AG’s request for more time to study the cell-tower data we had presented. She recessed the hearing until the following Monday morning, giving Morris and his minions three days — five if they kicked into overtime and worked through the weekend — to find ways to undermine the impact of Bosch’s testimony and evidence.

But that ruling was minor compared to the loss of Arslanian’s testimony and crime re-creation. That ruling was a case killer and I found myself not only angry at Morris but also deeply disappointed in the judge for not making law and approving the AI-based re-creation. So we sat there with a stunning view of the city in all directions, but none of us could see the beauty in it. The sky was growing dim and so were Lucinda Sanz’s chances of freedom.

“I’m so sorry, Mickey,” Arslanian said. “If only I—”

“No, Shami,” I said. “This is on me. I should have seen it coming. I should have asked you about the platform.”

“You’re going to appeal the judge’s ruling, right?” Bosch asked.

“Of course,” I said. “But like I said in court, in the meantime Lucinda goes back to Chino and waits it out. We’re talking about years and years. Even if we win in the Ninth, it will go up to the Supreme Court. That’s a five- to six-year ride. We may get lucky and make new law, but Lucinda will have served her sentence and be out by then.”

“What about what you always say about not being able to unring the bell?” Cisco said. “The judge saw the whole thing, didn’t she? She might have kicked it out, but she knows it was good stuff.”

I shook my head.

“There’s that, but the judge knows she’s got the eyes of the AG on her,” I said. “She’ll bend over backward not to let it be part of her ruling.”

“This is my fault,” Arslanian said.

“Come on, give that a rest,” I said. “I’m the captain of this sinking ship. It’s all on me and I go down with it.”

“Not if you put Sanger back on the stand and prove the lie,” Bosch said. “The judge owes you one and she knows it. Prove Sanger a liar and she might give you MacIsaac. If we get him on the stand, we get the true story and it points to Sanger, not Lucinda.”

I took a long pull on my cranberry and soda and shook my head again.

“I don’t think Coelho thinks she owes me anything,” I said. “Fed judges are appointed for life. They don’t look back unless the Ninth Circuit tells them to.”