The main similarities were that the victims were both male prostitutes who were murdered elsewhere and then “displayed” in the alley in roughly the same spot and same pose. The differences were in victim type. Beyond both being prostitutes, one was a diminutive white man and the other a heavyset black man. The profile said their “penetrative” roles were different, with Allen being a bottom and the other victim being a top. These roles indicated different client bases and therefore different killers.
Investigators in the first case had not found the murder scene. The victim lived in a shared apartment in East Hollywood but was not killed there, indicating an unknown rendezvous point with his killer, whereas in the Allen case, evidence indicated that he was murdered in his motel room and then taken to the alley and dumped.
The profiler — Dr. Hinojos — concluded that the two killings were the work of two separate suspects. She further posited that Allen’s killer might have had knowledge of the first killing through the media or street gossip or possibly law enforcement sources and attempted to copy aspects of the crime to throw off the investigation.
The profile noted several other aspects of the crime for consideration by investigators. No DNA evidence was collected from Allen’s body and no evidence of either sexual assault or consensual sex was found during autopsy. This seemed to suggest that the murderous rage erupted before there was a sex act. The profile also discounted any suggestion that the sex act had occurred much earlier and that the killer had returned to the hotel room to murder Allen. The use of the picture-frame wire to strangle the victim indicated that the killer had not come prepared to commit murder but that the killing was a spur-of-the-moment decision made while the killer was in the room. While Allen was in the bathroom or otherwise distracted or incapacitated, the wire was removed from the picture frame and then used to strangle him.
Bosch put the two profiles in the folder Hinojos had given him. He got up and started pacing the living room as he thought about what he had read and what he knew. It was time to walk himself through the cases and establish clear lines of theory.
Two murders, two different killers. The profiles suggested two different kinds of psychological motivation. Da’Quan Foster was charged with the murder of Lexi Parks but the forensic profile drawn up before the DNA connection was made did not match him on psychological or evidentiary levels. Meantime, the irony was that aspects of his life did fit the profile on the James Allen case, for which he had an ironclad alibi — he was in jail.
Bosch paused in his pacing at the sliding door to look out into the canyon. But what he saw was his own dark reflection in the glass. He shook his head at the thought of the complicated trail he had delineated between the two cases. Allen was Foster’s alibi for the Parks killing and with Allen’s death much of Foster’s defense died.
And then there was the DNA. If at the time of Parks’s murder Foster was with Allen, as he reluctantly revealed and as the video from Hollywood Forever inched toward confirming, then the DNA was planted on Parks in an effort to misdirect investigators and possibly frame Foster.
Bosch stepped back from the glass and started moving around the room again. He felt his energy building. He sensed he was getting close to something but wasn’t sure what it was. He was still far outside the case and needed better access, but he was homing in just the same. He believed that Lexi Parks still held the secret to both cases. Why was she killed? Answer that and Bosch knew everything would unravel.
Loose ends and unexplained details always bothered Bosch. Unanswered questions. They were the bane of the homicide detective’s life. Sometimes they were big questions, sometimes not, but they were always a pebble in the shoe. The missing watch still bothered him. The husband’s explanation only answered one question with another. Why had she not turned the watch in for repair in its box? Had she simply dropped off the expensive watch at the jeweler’s?
That didn’t completely make sense to Bosch and so he could not put the watch aside.
He was also anxious about the Allen case and the need to keep moving forward. When a case stalled, it was often difficult to get momentum back. Sometimes it was like trying to start a car with a dead battery.
He called Lucia Soto’s cell.
“You still at the PAB?”
“Yep. About to move the red magnet.”
Bosch remembered the board the captain had put up in the squad room. Each detective slid a red magnet to the off-duty square when checking out for the day. A stupid little device to give the captain a sense of control. He had probably gotten the idea from a book on corporate management. When he was with the department Bosch had always made it his practice to ignore the magnets. He felt like he was always on duty.
“You feel like that drink tonight?” he asked.
“Tonight? Uh—”
“I want to pick your brain about what you saw in the Allen file.”
“Uh, well, yeah, I guess I could meet. When?”
“Whenever, wherever you want.”
“Really? You’ll come to my turf?” She sounded impressed.
“Your turf is my turf. Name the time and place.”
“Okay, how about eight? I’ll be at my local in Boyle Heights.”
“Which is?”
“Eastside Luv on First, a couple blocks from Hollenbeck Station.”
Bosch heard the carport door to the kitchen open and knew his daughter was home. He had been so consumed with the phone call that he had not heard her car pull in.
“Okay, I’ll be there,” he said into the phone.
“Cool,” Soto said. “See you then.”
He disconnected the call. He heard Maddie stop at the refrigerator before emerging from the kitchen, a juice bottle in hand, backpack over her shoulder.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, Mads.”
“What are you doing?”
“Just finished a call. How was school?”
“Fine.”
“Homework?”
“Lots.”
“Sorry. Listen, I’m going to need to go out for a couple hours in a little while. You okay making dinner or ordering in?”
“No problem.”
“You will eat something, right?”
“Yes, I promise.”
“Okay.”
He was thankful for that and thankful that so far she hadn’t brought up anything about his work on the defense case for Mickey Haller.
“Who are you going out with, Virginia?”
“No, I’m meeting my old partner for a drink.”
“Which old partner?”
“Lucia.”
“All right, cool.”
“Hey, there’s something I should probably tell you about Virginia. We’re not going out anymore.”
“Really? What happened?”
“Uh, um, I don’t know, we just hadn’t really been seeing each other a lot and...”
“She dumped you.”
Bosch hated that word.
“It’s not that simple. We talked the other night at dinner and just sort of decided to let things go for now.”
“She dumped you.”
“Uh, yes, I guess so.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good. I saw it coming. Kind of relieved.”
“If you’re sure. I’m going to get to work.”
“I’m okay. I’m sure.”
“Okay. I’m sorry, Dad.”
“Don’t be. I’m not.”
“Okay.”
Bosch was glad to get the awkward conversation over with. She turned toward the hallway. She always disappeared into her room to do her homework. He then remembered something.
“Oh, wait. Take a look at this.”