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She could hear music in the background. Jazz. She assumed he was home.
“Hey. Where are you at?” he asked.
“About to walk in the door at my place,” Ballard said. “What is that? Sounds nice.”
“Clifford Brown with Strings.”
“So, did you finish your review?”
“Did. Went through it a couple times.”
“And?”
“And the original team did a good job. Actually, a really good job. I saw no flaws.”
Ballard had not really expected Bosch to break the case oreven find a flaw in the original investigation. She had reviewed the files herself and had found no strings to tug or stone left unturned.
“Well, it was worth the shot,” she said. “I’ll set up a call with the councilman and let him know that we—”
“I’m looking at the photo of the palm print,” Bosch said. “The partial.”
“What do you mean you’re looking at it? I thought you were home.”
“I am home.”
“So you made copies when I told you not to. That’s a great first day, Harry. Already you—”
“Do you want to hear what I’m thinking, or do you want to fire me for breaking the rules?”
She was silent for a moment before letting his infraction go.
“Fine. What are you thinking?”
“This is just a photo. Is the actual print card still around, or was it digitized and destroyed?”
“They don’t destroy print cards, because all digital matches are followed up with a visual confirmation using the actual print before it can go to court. It’s current protocol. Why do you want the original card?”
“Because when they picked up the print with the tape, I don’t know, maybe they got—”
“Some DNA.”
“Yeah.”
“Holy shit, Harry, that might actually work. I wonder if that’s been done before.”
“One way to find out.”
“I’ll talk to the lab first thing tomorrow.”
“You should pull the print—make sure it’s still there after twenty-eight years—protocol or not.”
“I will and then I’ll take it to the lab. This is good, Harry. I should have thought of it, but that’s why I have you. It gives me hope, and that will give Councilman Pearlman hope.”
“I don’t think I would tell him about this until you find out if it’s got a shot, you know.”
“You’re right. Let’s see where it goes first. It’s not really Pearlman I talk to over there, anyway. His chief of staff is constantly up my ass about results.”
Bosch realized that Laffont had been wrong about who she spent time with on the phone. It was Hastings, not Pearlman.
