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She gave Bosch her email address and he wrote it down.
“Give me ten minutes and then check your email,” Bosch said. “I’ll send you the photo and I’ll circle the button so you will know exactly what we’re looking for.”
He described the pin while looking at the photo of it.
“Send it to me,” Juanita said. “I’ll be waiting.”
“One thing, Mrs. Wilson,” Bosch said. “If we’re lucky enough that the button is still there, I don’t want you to touch it. Just identify it and then call me and we can talk about how to preserve it. But for now, I just want you to look for it but not touch it, okay? That’s important.”
“Okay. You’ll send the email?”
“Yes, I have to scan the photo first, so it might take a few minutes.”
“Good.”
“Thank you.”
Bosch disconnected. He thought there was only a slim chance that Juanita Wilson would find the campaign pin, but he felt his spirits boosted by her willingness to work with him. He believed that positive energy often paid off.
19
BALLARD HAD TAKEN Colleen Hatteras into the interrogation room to speak privately with her about the blurred line between her IGG work and her self-claimed empathic skills. Though this was Ballard’s first position as a supervisor, she instinctively understood the boss-employee paradigm: Praise in public, criticize in private. She knew she had broken that unwritten rule when she had angrily sent Hatteras home in front of Bosch, but now she was calm and playing it right.
“The cases are too important,” Ballard said. “We are dealing with victims and families. I’m sorry, but I can’t risk these cases. If you’re going to stay on the team, then I need you to put that psychic/empath stuff away.”
“I don’t understand,” Hatteras protested. “What is the risk?”
“Colleen, come on. You know what I’m talking about. If we make a case through IGG, then that investigator—most likely you—will have to testify to a jury about how you made the connections and the identification of the suspect. You are a civilian. You’ve never been in law enforcement, and any smart defense lawyer is going to try to destroy your credibility. Andif they destroy you, they destroy the case. It’s called ‘killing the messenger.’”
“You are saying I have no credibility because I have these feelings?”
“I’m saying a defense lawyer will challenge your credibility. And even if your feelings have had nothing to do with the case, it doesn’t matter. The lawyer will kill you with the questions. Here’s one: ‘Answer this. Ms. Hatteras: Did you communicate with the victim in this case?’”
Hatteras took a moment to compose an answer.
“No, I did not,” she finally said.
“ ‘But you do call yourself a psychic, don’t you?’ ” Ballard pressed.
“No, I never call myself that.”
“ ‘Really? But don’t you get messages from the dead?’”
“Messages, no.”
“ ‘What about impressions?’”
“Well …”
“ ‘When you held the nightgown worn by the victim of this case on the night of her murder, did you get a psychic impression? Can you share it with the jury?’”
Hatteras pursed her lips and her eyes got glassy as tears started to form. Ballard spoke quietly and sympathetically.
“Colleen, I don’t want that to happen to you. I don’t want it to happen to a case where a family has waited years for justice. I’m protecting you as much as them. You need to keep that part of you out of your work here. You are great at IGG and that’s what I need from you. Do you understand?”
“I guess so.”
“I really need a yes or no, Colleen.”
