Dark Sacred Night (Harry Bosch Universe #31)(36)

“You pushed it open and went in?” she asked.

“Yes,” Dillon said.

She opened the door and held her hand up to signal him to enter.

“Show me what you did next,” she said.

Dillon pulled an air-filtering mask up from around his neck and over his mouth as he entered. Ballard looked back at Felsen and Torborg. Felsen had just finished the radio call to the watch commander.

“Can you see if the print car is available and get an ETA?” she asked.

“Roger that,” Felsen said.

“And don’t leave,” she added. “I need you guys here.”

“The L-T’s already asking when we can clear,” Felsen said.

“Tell her I need you here,” Ballard said sternly.

She entered the house after Dillon. The odor of decay still hung in the air but it had dissipated since she had worked the death case two nights before. Still, she wished she had her air mask, but it was in her kit in her city ride. Along with her hermetically sealable coveralls. She knew her third-string suit would be toast after one wearing. Luckily, the suit she had dropped off at the dry cleaners the day before would be ready in the morning.

“Walk me through it,” she said. “How’d you know it was a break-in? The place was already pretty messed up.”

Dillon gestured over her shoulder to the front wall of the living room. Ballard turned and saw that the three side-by-side prints of red lips were gone. When Ballard had called Bobbi Clark to report that her aunt was dead, Clark had asked specifically about the well-being of the prints, mentioning that they were the work of Andy Warhol and were rare APs—artist’s prints—that were worth over six figures each and even more when combined as a series.

“Ms. Clark told me to be careful of these red lip paintings that were supposed to be in the living room,” Dillon said. “So, I come in and no red lips. I called you guys because this is why I rarely go into a house by myself. I don’t want to get accused of anything. We usually work in twos but my partner’s on another job and this lady Clark really wanted this done today. When she gets here, she doesn’t want to see blood or anything else. She told me about what the cat did.”

Ballard nodded.

“Is it your company or you just work for the company?” she asked.

“It’s mine,” Dillon said. “Two trucks, four employees, available twenty-four-seven. We’re a small shop. You wouldn’t think it, but it’s a competitive business. A lot of companies cleaning up after murders and bad things.”

“Well, this wasn’t a murder. How’d Ms. Clark come to hire you from New York?”

“Recommendation from the M.E. I give out a lot of business cards. And gifts at the holidays. People recommend me. I’ll give you a stack of cards if you’ll take them.”

“Maybe later. I don’t do many crime scenes like this. Not a lot of murders in Hollywood these days and I’m usually on graveyard.”

“They had that five-spot last year at the Dancers. I got that one. Worked four days cleaning up that mess and then they never reopened the joint.”

“I know. I was there that night.”

Dillon nodded.

“I think I saw you on TV for that,” he said.

Ballard decided to get back on track.

“So, you come in, you see the prints are gone. Then what?” she asked.

“I backed out and called you guys,” Dillon said. “Then I waited about an hour for them and then they waited an hour for you. I’m not getting any work done and Ms. Clark lands at ten tomorrow morning.”

“I’m sorry about that, but we have to conduct the investigation—especially if we’re talking about a major theft. We’ve hopefully got a print car coming soon and we’ll need to get yours so we can exclude them. I’m going to ask you to step outside now and wait with the officers while I work in here.”

“How long before I can go to work?”

“I’ll get you cleared as soon as possible but I don’t think you’re getting in here today. Someone will have to do a walk-through in as-is condition with Ms. Clark after she arrives.”

“Shit.”

“Sorry.”

“You keep saying that but I don’t make money on sorries.”

Ballard understood his concerns as the owner of the company.

“I’ll tell you what, get me some of your cards, and I’ll keep them handy down the line.”

“I’d really appreciate that, Detective.”

Ballard followed him out of the house and asked Felsen about the print car. He said the ETA was fifteen minutes and Ballard knew from experience that all waiting times on the print car should be doubled. The car was assigned to the entire West Bureau and was operated by a latent-print tech who responded to all needs, ranging from property capers to violent crimes. It was safe to say the print car tech never stopped working.

Technically, Ballard was supposed to follow a protocol in which she would first study the crime scene and look for likely spots where the suspect could have left prints. Only upon finding possibilities should she call for the print car. But in reality, when it came to property crimes, the practice was the opposite. Delaying in calling the print car added up to long waits. She always called first to get her case in line and then started looking at the scene. She could then call the car off if she didn’t find any likely deposits.