referred to a short stack of documents.
“I did a little Internet work on that,” she said. “In the Reynard epic he is often depicted as a member of the clergy and he is able to woo his audience closer to him that way so that he can grab them. The clergy at the time—we’re talking about the twelfth century—was the ultimate authority. Today it would be different. The ultimate authority would be the government, notably represented by the police.”
“You’re saying he might have posed as a cop?”
“Just a thought, but it’s possible. He had to have had something that worked.”
“What about a weapon? Or money? He could have just flashed the green. These women . . . these girls would have gone for money.”
“I think it was more than a weapon and more than money. To use either of them you still need to get close. Money doesn’t lower the safety threshold. It had to be something else. His style or patter, something more than or in addition to money. When he got them close, then he would use the weapon.”
Bosch nodded and wrote a few notes on a page of a notebook he grabbed off a shelf behind where he sat.
“What else?” he asked.
“Do you know how long he’s had his business?”
“No, but we’ll know tomorrow morning. Why?”
“Well, because it shows another dimension of his skills. But my interest in it is not just because he ran his own business. I’m also curious about the choice of business. It allowed him to be mobile and to travel throughout the city. If you saw his van in your neighborhood, there would be no cause for concern—except late at night, which obviously led to his downfall. And the job also allowed him inside people’s homes. I’m curious as to whether he started the job to help him fulfill his fantasies—the killings—or already had the business before he began acting on these impulses.”
Bosch made a few more notes. Rachel had a good point with her questions about the job. He had questions that ran along the same lines. Could Waits have had his business thirteen years before? Had he cleaned windows at the High Tower and known about the vacant apartment? Maybe it was another mistake, a connection they had missed.
“I know I don’t need to tell you this, Harry, but you are going to have to be careful and cautious with him.”
He looked up from his notes.
“Why?”
“Something about what I see here—and obviously this is a very rushed response to a lot of material—but something doesn’t fit right about this.”
“What?”
She composed her thoughts before answering.
“You have to remember that it was a fluke that he was even caught. Officers looking for a burglar stumbled onto a killer. Up until the moment those officers found the bags in his van, Waits was completely unknown to law enforcement. He had been flying below the radar for years. As I said, it shows he had a certain level of cunning and skill. And it says something about the pathology as well. He wasn’t sending notes to the police like the Zodiac or BTK. He wasn’t displaying his victims as an affront to society or a taunt to police. He was quiet. He moved below the surface. And he chose victims, with the exception of the first two killings, who could be pulled under without leaving so much as a ripple behind. You understand what I mean?”
Bosch hesitated for a moment, not sure he wanted to tell her about the mistake he and Edgar had made so many years ago.
She read him.
“What?”
He didn’t answer.
“Harry, I don’t want to be spinning my wheels here. If there is something you know that I need to know, then tell me or I might as well get up and go.”
“Just hold on until I get the coffee. I hope you like it black.”
He got up and went into the kitchen and poured coffee into two mugs. He found some packets of sugar and sweetener in a basket where he threw condiments that came with to-go orders and brought them out for Rachel. She put sweetener in her mug.
“Okay,” she said
“I did a little Internet work on that,” she said. “In the Reynard epic he is often depicted as a member of the clergy and he is able to woo his audience closer to him that way so that he can grab them. The clergy at the time—we’re talking about the twelfth century—was the ultimate authority. Today it would be different. The ultimate authority would be the government, notably represented by the police.”
“You’re saying he might have posed as a cop?”
“Just a thought, but it’s possible. He had to have had something that worked.”
“What about a weapon? Or money? He could have just flashed the green. These women . . . these girls would have gone for money.”
“I think it was more than a weapon and more than money. To use either of them you still need to get close. Money doesn’t lower the safety threshold. It had to be something else. His style or patter, something more than or in addition to money. When he got them close, then he would use the weapon.”
Bosch nodded and wrote a few notes on a page of a notebook he grabbed off a shelf behind where he sat.
“What else?” he asked.
“Do you know how long he’s had his business?”
“No, but we’ll know tomorrow morning. Why?”
“Well, because it shows another dimension of his skills. But my interest in it is not just because he ran his own business. I’m also curious about the choice of business. It allowed him to be mobile and to travel throughout the city. If you saw his van in your neighborhood, there would be no cause for concern—except late at night, which obviously led to his downfall. And the job also allowed him inside people’s homes. I’m curious as to whether he started the job to help him fulfill his fantasies—the killings—or already had the business before he began acting on these impulses.”
Bosch made a few more notes. Rachel had a good point with her questions about the job. He had questions that ran along the same lines. Could Waits have had his business thirteen years before? Had he cleaned windows at the High Tower and known about the vacant apartment? Maybe it was another mistake, a connection they had missed.
“I know I don’t need to tell you this, Harry, but you are going to have to be careful and cautious with him.”
He looked up from his notes.
“Why?”
“Something about what I see here—and obviously this is a very rushed response to a lot of material—but something doesn’t fit right about this.”
“What?”
She composed her thoughts before answering.
“You have to remember that it was a fluke that he was even caught. Officers looking for a burglar stumbled onto a killer. Up until the moment those officers found the bags in his van, Waits was completely unknown to law enforcement. He had been flying below the radar for years. As I said, it shows he had a certain level of cunning and skill. And it says something about the pathology as well. He wasn’t sending notes to the police like the Zodiac or BTK. He wasn’t displaying his victims as an affront to society or a taunt to police. He was quiet. He moved below the surface. And he chose victims, with the exception of the first two killings, who could be pulled under without leaving so much as a ripple behind. You understand what I mean?”
Bosch hesitated for a moment, not sure he wanted to tell her about the mistake he and Edgar had made so many years ago.
She read him.
“What?”
He didn’t answer.
“Harry, I don’t want to be spinning my wheels here. If there is something you know that I need to know, then tell me or I might as well get up and go.”
“Just hold on until I get the coffee. I hope you like it black.”
He got up and went into the kitchen and poured coffee into two mugs. He found some packets of sugar and sweetener in a basket where he threw condiments that came with to-go orders and brought them out for Rachel. She put sweetener in her mug.
“Okay,” she said
Similar Books
