The Black Box Read Free Page A

before responding. It was a careless thing for Edgar to have said. He was hitting back because Bosch had not responded well to the Snow White quip.
    “No, not because she’s white,” Bosch said evenly. “Because she’s not a looter and she’s not a gangbanger and because they better believe that the media is going to jump all over a case involving one of their own. Okay? Is that good enough?”
    “Got it.”
    “Good.”
    Edgar went back to the car to use the radio and Bosch returned to his crime scene. The first thing he did was delineate the perimeter. He backed several of the guardsmen down the alley so he could create a zone that extended twenty feet on either side of the body. The third and fourth sides of the box were the wall of the appliance shop on one side and the wall of the rims store on the other.
    As he marked it off, Bosch noted that the alley cut through a residential block that was directly behind the row of retailbusinesses that fronted Crenshaw. There was no uniformity in the containment of the backyards that lined the alley. Some of the homes had concrete walls, while others had wood-slat or chain-link fences.
    Bosch knew that in a perfect world he would search all those yards and knock on all those doors, but that would have to come later, if at all. His attention at the moment had to be focused on the immediate crime scene. If he got the chance to canvas the neighborhood, he would consider himself lucky.
    Bosch noticed that Robleto and Delwyn had taken positions with their shotguns at the mouth of the alley. They were standing next to each other and talking, probably sharing a complaint about something. Back in Bosch’s Vietnam days, that would have been called a sniper’s two-for-one sale.
    There were eight guardsmen posted inside the alley on the interior perimeter. Bosch noticed that a group of people were beginning to congregate and watch from the far end. He waved over the guardsman who had led them into the alley.
    “What’s your name, soldier?”
    “Drummond, but everyone calls me Drummer.”
    “Okay, Drummer, I’m Detective Bosch. Tell me who found her.”
    “The body? That was Dowler. He came back here to take a leak and he found her. He said he could smell her first. He knew the smell.”
    “Where’s Dowler now?”
    “I think he’s on post at the southern barricade.”
    “I need to talk to him. Will you get him for me?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Drummond started to move toward the entrance of the alley.
    “Hold on, Drummer, I’m not done.”
    Drummond turned around.
    “When did you deploy to this location?”
    “We’ve been here since eighteen hundred yesterday, sir.”
    “So you’ve had control of this area since then? This alley?”
    “Not exactly, sir. We started at Crenshaw and Florence last night and we’ve worked east on Florence and north on Crenshaw. It’s been block by block.”
    “So when did you get to this alley?”
    “I’m not sure. I think we had it covered by dawn today.”
    “And all the looting and burning in this immediate area, that was already over?”
    “Yes, sir, happened first night, from what I’ve been told.”
    “Okay, Drummer, one last thing. We need more light. Can you bring back here one of those trucks you have with all the lights on top?”
    “It’s called a Humvee, sir.”
    “Yeah, well, bring one back here from that end of the alley. Come in past those people and point the lights right at my crime scene. You got it?”
    “Got it, sir.”
    Bosch pointed to the end opposite the patrol car.
    “Good. I want to create a cross-hatching of light here, okay? It’s probably going to be the best we can do.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    He started to trot away.
    “Hey, Drummer.”
    Drummond turned around once more and came back.
    “Yes, sir.”
    Bosch whispered now.
    “All your guys are watching me. Shouldn’t they be turned around, eyes out?”
    Drummond stepped back and twirled his finger over his head.
    “Hey! Turn it around, eyes out.