“Hey, Doc, you’re getting a little bit ahead of us. Let’s get the ID, if it’s there, and then we’ll figure out who was hurting the kid.”
“Fine. It’s your case. It’s just that I’ve seen this a hundred times.”
Golliher dropped the reports and picked up the X-rays. Bosch watched him with a bemused smile on his face. It seemed that Golliher was annoyed because Bosch had not jumped to the same conclusions he had with the same speed he had.
Golliher put two X-rays down on the light box. He then went to his own file and brought out X-rays he had taken of the Wonderland skull. He flipped the box’s light on and three X-rays glowed before them. Golliher pointed to the X-ray he had taken from his own file.
“This is a radiological X-ray I took to look inside the bone of the skull. But we can use it here for comparison purposes. Tomorrow when I get back to the medical examiner’s office I will use the skull itself.”
Golliher leaned over the light box and reached for a small glass eyepiece that was stored on a nearby shelf. He held one end to his eye and pressed the other against one of the X-rays. After a few moments he moved to one of the hospital X-rays and pressed the eyepiece to the same location on the skull. He went back and forth numerous times, making comparison after comparison.
When he was finished, Golliher straightened up, leaned back against the next worktable and folded his arms.
“Queen of Angels was a government-subsidized hospital. Money was always tight. They should have taken more than two pictures of this kid’s head. If they had, they might have seen some of his other injuries.”
“Okay. But they didn’t.”
“Yeah, they didn’t. But based on what they did do and what we’ve got here, I was able to make several comparison points on the roundel, the fracture pattern and along the squamous suture. There is no doubt in my mind.”
He gestured toward the X-rays still glowing on the light box.
“Meet Arthur Delacroix.”
Bosch nodded.
“Okay.”
Golliher stepped over to the light box and started collecting the X-rays.
“How sure are you?”
“Like I said, there’s no doubt. I’ll look at the skull tomorrow when I’m downtown, but I can tell you now, it’s him. It’s a match.”
“So, if we get somebody and go into court with it, there aren’t going to be any surprises, right?”
Golliher looked at Bosch.
“No surprises. These findings can’t be challenged. As you know, the challenge lies in the interpretation of the injuries. I look at this boy and see something horribly, horribly wrong. And I will testify to that. Gladly. But then you have these official records.”
He gestured dismissively to the open file of hospital records.
“They say skateboard. That’s where the fight will be.”
Bosch nodded. Golliher put the two X-rays back into the file and closed it. Bosch put it back in his briefcase.
“Well, Doctor, thanks for taking the time to see me here. I think-”
“Detective Bosch?”
“Yes?”
“The other day you seemed very uncomfortable when I mentioned the necessity of faith in what we do. Basically, you changed the subject.”
“Not really a subject I feel comfortable talking about.”
“I would think that in your line of work it would be paramount to have a healthy spirituality.”
“I don’t know. My partner likes blaming aliens from outer space for everything that’s wrong. I guess that’s healthy, too.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
Bosch grew annoyed and the feeling quickly slipped toward anger.
“What is the question, Doc? Why do you care so much about me and what I believe or don’t believe?”
“Because it is important to me. I study bones. The framework of life. And I have come to believe that there is something more than blood and tissue and bone. There is something else that holds us together. I have something inside, that you’ll never see on any X-ray, that holds me together and keeps me going. And so, when I meet someone who carries a void in the place where I carry my faith, I get scared for him.”
Bosch looked at him for a long moment.
“You’re wrong about me. I have faith and I have a mission. Call it blue religion, call it whatever you like. It’s the belief that this won’t just go by. That those bones came out of the ground for a reason. That they came out of the ground for me to find, and for me to do something about. And that’s what holds me together and keeps me going. And it won’t show up on any X-ray either. Okay?”
He stared at Golliher, waiting for a reply. But the anthropologist said nothing.
“I gotta go, Doctor,” Bosch finally said. “Thanks for your help. You’ve made things very clear for me.”
He left him there, surrounded by the dark bones the city had been built on.
Chapter 26
EDGAR was not at his spot at the homicide table when Bosch got back to the squad room.
“Harry?”
Bosch looked up and saw Lt. Billets standing in the doorway to her office. Through the glass window Bosch could see Edgar in there sitting in front of her desk. Bosch put his briefcase down and headed over.
“What’s up?” he said as he entered the office.
“No, that’s my question,” Billets said as she closed the door. “Do we have an ID?”
She went around behind her desk and sat down as Bosch took the seat next to Edgar.
“Yes, we have an ID. Arthur Delacroix, disappeared May fourth, nineteen eighty.”
“The ME is sure of this?”
“Their bone guy says there is no doubt.”
“How close are we on time of death?”
“Pretty close. The bone guy said before we knew anything that the fatal impact to the skull came about three months after the kid had the earlier skull fracture and surgery. We got the records on that surgery today. February eleven, nineteen eighty at Queen of Angels. You add three months and we’re almost right on the button-Arthur Delacroix disappeared May fourth, according to his sister. The point is, Arthur Delacroix was dead four years before Nicholas Trent moved into that neighborhood. I think that puts him in the clear.”
Billets reluctantly nodded.
“I’ve had Irving’s office and Media Relations on my ass all day about this,” she said. “They’re not going to like it when I call them back with this.”
“That’s too bad,” Bosch said. “That’s the way the case shakes out.”
“Okay, so Trent wasn’t in the neighborhood in nineteen eighty. Do we have anything yet on where he was?”
Bosch blew out his breath and shook his head.
“You’re not going to let this go, are you? We need to concentrate on the kid.”
“I’m not letting go because they’re not. Irving called me himself this morning. He was very clear without having to say the words. If it turns out an innocent man killed himself because a cop leaked information to the media that held him up to public ridicule, then it’s one more black eye for the department. Haven’t we had enough humiliation in the last ten years?”
Bosch smiled without a hint of humor.
“You sound just like him, Lieutenant. That’s really good.”
It was the wrong thing to say. He could see that it hurt her.
“Yeah, well, maybe I sound like him because I agree with him, for once. This department has had nothing but scandal after scandal. Like most of the decent cops around here, I for one am sick of it.”
“Good. So am I. But the solution is not to bend things to fit our needs. This is a homicide case.”
“I know that, Harry. I’m not saying bend anything. I’m saying we have to be sure.”
“We’re sure. I’m sure.”
They were silent for a long moment, everyone’s eyes avoiding the others’.
“What about Kiz?” Edgar finally asked.
Bosch sneered.
“Irving won’t do a thing to Kiz,” he said. “He knows it will make him look even worse if he touches her. Besides, she’s probably the best cop they got down there on the third floor.”