At Harry's house they talked while he lit the hibachi on the porch and put an orange roughy filet on the grill. He had bought it Christmas Eve and it was still fresh and large enough to split. Teresa told him the County Commission would probably informally decide before New Year's on a permanent chief medical examiner. He wished her good luck but privately wasn't sure he meant it. It was a political appointment and she would have to toe the line. Why get into that box? He changed the subject.
"So, if this guy, this Juan Doe, was down in Mexicali—near where they make these fruit flies—how do you think his body got all the way up here?"
"That's not my department," Teresa said.
She was at the railing, staring out over the Valley. There were a million lights glinting in the crisp, cool air. She was wearing his jacket over her shoulders. Harry glazed the fish with a pineapple barbecue sauce and then turned it over.
"It's warm over here by the fire," he said. He dawdled a bit over the filet and then said, "I think what it was is that maybe they didn't want anybody checking around that USDA contractor's business. You know? They didn't want that body connected to that place. So they take the guy's body far away."
"Yeah, but all the way to L.A.?"
"Maybe they were . . . well, I don't know. That is pretty far away."
They were both silent with their thoughts for a few moments. Bosch could hear and smell the pineapple sizzling as it dripped on the coals. He said, "How do you smuggle a dead body across the border?"
"Oh, I think they've smuggled larger things than that across, don't you?"
He nodded.
"Ever been down there, Harry, to Mexicali?"
"Just to drive through on my way to Bahia San Felipe, where I went fishing last summer. I never stopped. You?"
"Never."
"You know the name of the town just across the border? On our side?"
"Uh uh."
"Calexico."
"You're kidding? Is that where—"
"Yup."
The fish was done. He forked it onto a plate, put the cover on the grill and they went inside. He served it with Spanish rice he made with Pico Pico. He opened a bottle of red wine and poured two glasses. Blood of the gods. He didn't have any white. As he put everything on the table he saw a smile on her face.
"Thought I was a TV dinner guy, didn't you."
"Crossed my mind. This is very nice."
They clicked glasses and ate quietly. She complimented him on the meal but he knew the fish was a little too dry. They descended into small talk again. The whole time he was looking for the opening to ask her about the Moore autopsy. It didn't come until they were finished.
"What will you do now?" she asked after putting her napkin on the table.
"Guess I'll clear the table and see if—"
"No. You know what I mean. About the Juan Doe case."
"I'm not sure. I want to talk to Porter again. And I'll probably look up the USDA. I'd like to know more about how those flies get here from Mexico."
She nodded and said, "Let me know if you want to talk to the entomologist. I can arrange that."
He watched her as she once again got the far-off stare that had been intruding all night.
"What about you?" he asked. "What will you do now?"
"About what?"
"About the problems with the Moore autopsy."
"That obvious, huh?"
He got up and cleared the plates away. She didn't move from the table. He sat back down and emptied the bottle into the glasses. He decided he would have to give her something in order for her to feel comfortable giving him something in return.
"Listen to me, Teresa. I think you and I should talk about things. I think we have two investigations, probably three investigations, here, that may all be part of the same thing. Like different spokes on the same wheel."
She brought her eyes up, confused. "What cases? What are you talking about?"
"I know that all of what I'm about to say is outside your venue but I think you need to know it to help make your decision. I've been watching you all night and I can tell you have a problem and don't know what to do."
He hesitated, giving her a chance to stop him. She didn't. He told her about Marvin Dance's arrest and its relation to the Jimmy Kapps murder.