Dark Sacred Night (Harry Bosch Universe #31)(13)

“No theory,” he said.

He put the container down on the floor so he could unsnap the top. He then lifted the tub up and angled it so she could see into it. He reached inside and pointed to a manufacturer’s seal stamped into the plastic at the bottom. It was a two-inch circle with the A-S-P reading horizontally and vertically in the center.

“A-S-P,” he said. “American Storage Products or American Soft Plastics. Same company, two names. The killer put her in one of these. He didn’t need a bathtub or a motel. One of these and a van.”

Ballard reached into the container and ran a finger over the manufacturer’s seal. Bosch knew she was drawing the same conclusion he had. The logo was stamped into the plastic on the underside of the tub, creating a ridged impression on the inside. If Daisy’s skin had been pressed against the ridges, the logo would have left its mark.

Ballard pulled her arm out and looked up from the tub to Bosch.

“How’d you figure this out?” she asked.

“I thought like he did,” Bosch said.

“Let me guess, these are untraceable.”

“They make them in Gardena, ship them to retailers everywhere. They do some direct sales to commercial accounts but as far as individual sales go, forget it. You can get these at every Target and Walmart in the country.”

“Well, shit.”

“Yeah.”

Bosch snapped the top back on the tub and was about to return it to the high shelf.

“Can I take it?” Ballard asked.

Bosch turned to her. He knew he could replace it and that she could easily get her own. He guessed it was a move to draw him further into a partnership. If he gave her something, then it meant they were working together.

He handed the tub over.

“It’s yours,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said.

She looked at the open gate to the Public Works yard.

“Okay, so I start tonight on the shakes,” she said.

Bosch nodded.

“Where were they?” he asked.

“In storage,” Ballard said. “Nobody wanted to throw them out.”

“I figured. It was smart.”

“What were you going to do if you found them still in the file cabinets?”

“I don’t know. Probably ask Money if I could hang around and look through them.”

“Were you just going to look at cards from the day or week of the murder? The month maybe?”

“No, all of them. Whatever they still had. Who’s to say the guy who did this didn’t get FI-ed a couple years before or a year after?”

Ballard nodded.

“No stone uncovered. I get it.”

“That make you change your mind? It’ll be a lot of work.”

“Nope.”

“Good.”

“Well, I’m gonna go. Might even go in early to get started.”

“Happy hunting. If I can come by, I will. But I have a search warrant to execute.”

“Right.”

“Otherwise, call me if you find something.”

He reached into a pocket and produced a business card with his cell number on it.

“Copy that,” she said.

Ballard walked off, holding the container in front of her by the indented grips on either side. As Bosch watched, she made a smooth U-turn and came back to him.

“Lucy Soto said you know Daisy’s mother,” she said. “Is that the standing you said you had?”

“I guess you could say that,” Bosch said.

“Where’s the mother—if I want to talk to her?”

“My house. You can talk to her anytime.”

“You live with her?”

“She’s staying with me. It’s temporary. Eighty-six-twenty Woodrow Wilson.”

“Okay. Got it.”

Ballard turned again and walked off. Bosch watched her go. She made no further U-turns.





6



Bosch went back into the jail to get the search warrant and to close and lock the cold-case cell. He then crossed First Street and entered the SFPD detective bureau through the side door off the parking lot. He saw two of the unit’s full-time detectives at their workstations. Bella Lourdes was the senior detective most often paired with Bosch when his investigations took him out into the streets. She had a soft, motherly look that camouflaged her skills and toughness. Oscar Luzon was older than Lourdes but the most recent transfer to the detective unit. He had a sedentary thickness settling in and liked wearing his badge on a chain around his neck like a narc instead of on his belt. Otherwise, it might not be seen. Danny Sisto, the third member of the team, was not present.

Bosch checked Captain Trevino’s office and found the door open and the detective commander behind his desk. He looked up from some paperwork at Bosch.

“How’d it go?” Trevino asked.

“Sign, sealed, delivered,” Bosch said, holding the warrant up as proof. “You want to get everybody in the war room to talk about how we do this?”

“Yeah, bring Bella and Oscar in. Sisto’s out at a crime scene, so he won’t make it. I’ll pull somebody in from patrol.”

“What about LAPD?”

“Let’s figure it out first and then I’ll call Foothill and make it a captain-to-captain thing.”