Bosch put the top back on the shoe box and then carried it with two hands, making sure not to turn the box or jostle its contents in any way.
Outside, Bosch noticed the patrol car was still in front of the house. The two officers sat inside it, apparently writing out reports. He went to his car and placed the shoe box on the front passenger seat.
Since he had been on call out he had not dressed in a suit. He had on a sport coat with blue jeans and a white oxford shirt. He stripped off his coat, folded it inside out and put it on the backseat. He noticed that the trigger from the weapon he kept holstered on his hip had worn a hole in the lining and the jacket wasn’t even a year old. Soon it would work its way into the pocket and then all the way through. More often than not he wore out his coats from the inside.
He took his shirt off next, revealing a white T-shirt beneath. He then opened the trunk to get out the pair of work boots from his crime scene equipment box. As he leaned against the rear bumper and changed his shoes he saw Brasher get out of the patrol car and come back toward him.
“So it looks legit, huh?”
“Think so. Somebody at the ME’s office will have to confirm, though.”
“You going to go up and look?”
“I’m going to try to. Not much light left, though. Probably be back out here tomorrow.”
“By the way, I’m Julia Brasher. I’m new in the division.”
“Harry Bosch.”
“I know. I’ve heard of you.”
“I deny everything.”
She smiled at the line and put her hand out but Bosch was right in the middle of tying one of the boots. He stopped and shook her hand.
“Sorry,” she said. “My timing is off today.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
He finished tying the boot and stood up off the bumper.
“When I blurted out the answer in there, about the dog, I immediately realized you were trying to establish a rapport with the doctor. That was wrong. I’m sorry.”
Bosch studied her for a moment. She was mid-thirties with dark hair in a tight braid that left a short tail going over the back of her collar. Her eyes were dark brown. He guessed she liked the outdoors. Her skin had an even tan.
“Like I said, don’t worry about it.”
“You’re alone?”
Bosch hesitated.
“My partner’s working on something else while I check this out.”
He saw the doctor coming out the front door of the house with the dog on a leash. He decided not to get out his crime scene jumpsuit and put it on. He glanced over at Julia Brasher, who was now watching the approaching dog.
“You guys don’t have calls?”
“No, it’s slow.”
Bosch looked down at the MagLite in his equipment box. He looked at her and then reached into the trunk and grabbed an oil rag, which he threw over the flashlight. He took out a roll of yellow crime scene tape and the Polaroid camera, then closed the trunk and turned to Brasher.
“Then do you mind if I borrow your Mag? I, uh, forgot mine.”
“No problem.”
She slid the flashlight out of the ring on her equipment belt and handed it to him.
The doctor and his dog came up then.
“Ready.”
“Okay, Doctor, I want you to take us up to the spot where you let the dog go and we’ll see where she goes.”
“I’m not sure you’ll be able to stay with her.”
“I’ll worry about that, Doctor.”
“This way then.”
They walked up the incline toward the small turnaround circle where Wonderland reached a dead end. Brasher made a hand signal to her partner in the car and walked along with them.
“You know, we had a little excitement up this way a few years ago,” Guyot said. “A man was followed home from the Hollywood Bowl and then killed in a robbery.”
“I remember,” Bosch said.
He knew the investigation was still open but didn’t mention it. It wasn’t his case.
Dr. Guyot walked with a strong step that belied his age and apparent condition. He let the dog set the pace and soon moved several paces ahead of Bosch and Brasher.
“So where were you before?” Bosch asked Brasher.
“What do you mean?”
“You said you were new in Hollywood Division. What about before?”
“Oh. The academy.”
He was surprised. He looked over at her, thinking he might need to reassess his age estimate.