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“You got it, boss,” he said.
She smiled.
42
BOSCH STOOD UP and looked over the privacy wall at Ballard. She was working on her computer, her fingers moving at an amazing speed as she typed, but he couldn’t see the screen to know what she was doing. She spoke without taking her eyes off her work, whatever it was.
“Did you find something in there to run with?” she asked.
“No, not yet,” Bosch said. “The others are still in there. I’ll check it out later, see what’s left. I was thinking about taking a drive up to Santa Monica first.”
“I just heard you on the phone asking about some kind of hauling schedule. Is it that?”
“Yeah. There’s something that’s been bothering me about what Rawls was doing Sunday.”
Ballard now looked up at him from her screen.
“What?” she asked.
“All right, just hear me out on this,” Bosch said. “On Sunday, when I drove by the alley and saw his car behind the shop, the trunk was open and he was nowhere to be seen.”
“Yeah, he was inside his office, gathering his souvenirs.”
“Right, we think he was doing that. And you said that afterthe shootout, the box of souvenirs was found in the trunk of his car and there was also a suitcase there.”
“Yeah, on the back seat.”
“Okay, so why’d he open the trunk before going inside the shop?”
Ballard shrugged.
“Because he knew he was bringing out the box,” she said.
“But would you open the trunk before you went inside?” Bosch said. “Or would you wait till you were coming out with the box? I mean, it wasn’t this big box he’d need two hands to carry.”
“I don’t know, Harry. I think you’re overthinking things.”
“Maybe. But when I saw you with the box today, it hit me. That box could have easily fit in the back with the suitcase or on the passenger seat next to him. Why’d he put it in the trunk?”
“Does it matter? It’s one of those things we’re never going to be able to nail down and know. A known unknown. Every case has them.”
“Yeah, but what if the trunk was open because he was taking things out? What if he was getting rid of stuff? Evidence, other souvenirs. He took it all from his house or his storage unit, wherever he had it, put it in the trunk, then drove to the shop, where the back alley was lined with dumpsters behind the businesses. Maybe I didn’t see him in the alley because my view was blocked by the dumpsters.”
“The hauling schedule. Have those dumpsters been emptied this week?”
“Not till tomorrow.”
“So you’re going to go dumpster diving.”
“It’s going to bother me if I don’t.”
“Let me finish this email and I’ll go with you. I don’t think you should be climbing into dumpsters with those ribs and that knee. And I have CSOs in my car.”
Bosch knew she meant crime scene overalls. Most detectives kept work boots and overalls in their trunk for working messy crime scenes.
“My ribs and the knee are fine,” he said. “But we’re going to need a step stool or a ladder—no matter who goes in.”
“Go check with building maintenance to see what we can borrow,” Ballard said. “I’ll send this email and meet you at my car.”
