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“I could eat. Meet me at Traxx.”
“Is that back open?”
“Yeah. You want anything?”
“I’ll get something to drink when I get there. I already ate.”
It took Bosch ten minutes to get over to Union Station and the restaurant inside its huge waiting hall. It was after the lunch rush and the restaurant wasn’t crowded, but the waiting hall was packed with travelers embracing a postpandemic world, whether the threat of the pandemic was actually over or not.
Bosch was halfway through a grilled cheese sandwich and a side of fries when Ballard slid into the window booth across from him. She took a french fry off his plate in the same fluid motion. Bosch pushed his plate toward the middle of the table.
“Dig in,” he said. “I can’t eat all of this.”
She took another fry as the waitress came to the table.
“I just want an iced tea and some ketchup,” she said.
Bosch let her settle for a moment before going right to the case.
“So Darcy has the cup?”
“She does. She’s putting a rush on it. I think I’ve used up the next three months of favors with her. Especially getting her to come in today.”
“It’ll be worth it when we bag this guy. When will she know?”
“She’s hoping the sequencing is done by tomorrow, and then she’ll put it into CODIS and see if it draws a match.”
“She can’t directly compare what we get from the cup to what they got from the palm print?”
Ballard shook her head.
“Legal protocol handed down by the D.A.’s Office,” she said. “Makes it harder to challenge in court if you don’t go outside the bounds of usual procedure. Skipping it and going to a one-to-one comparison can look like the fix was in. A defense lawyer like your brother, Mickey, could blow that up in court.”
“Half brother. So tomorrow we’ll know.”
“If we’re lucky.”
Bosch nodded and took another bite of his sandwich. He spoke with his mouth full.
“So you went off script with Hastings.”
“Yeah. He sort of got to me when he knocked down all three strikes I had against him.”
“What strikes?”
“He corrected what he meant when he said the Wilson murder was before his time with Pearlman. He now says he meant before his time as chief of staff. He acknowledged today that he was Pearlman’s driver back then. So I went off script when I asked him how he knew Wilson was Black when I didn’t tell him.”
“And?”
“He had an answer for it. I didn’t send him a photo, so he googled her and found aTimesstory on her murder that had her photo. He was right. The same clip is in the murder book.”
“Look, none of that matters now with the missing kidney. The DNA match will come back and we take him down.”
“I know, I know, but he’s good. He shifted the conversation, so when I got back on script and brought up Kramer and him not giving me the name of the campaign manager when he clearly knew it, he went ballistic.”
“Yeah, I heard Hastings’s side of it. What did Kramer tell you he said to Hastings on the call?”
“He told me he denied saying that Pearlman knew Laura Wilson, but Hastings didn’t believe him. He just yelled and threatened to destroy him.”
