two would come to him. Emily made her way around the room, dispensing files, sometimes with a conversation, sometimes leaving a file on an empty desk because the corresponding detectives were out in the field or off duty.
She waited to come to Bosch last. She had one file left in her hand when she arrived at his cubicle.
“Good morning, Detective Bosch.”
“Good morning, Emily. When are you going to start calling me Harry?”
“I’m sorry. I always forget. Harry.”
She nodded, as if trying the name out and seeing if it worked.
“What do you have there?”
She handed him the green file.
“There is not a lot in there. This one was anonymous—came in yesterday. He didn’t say much but I was able to find the case. Nineteen ninety-two. One of your years.”
“Sure is.”
Bosch opened the file. It contained only two sheets of paper. One was a photocopy of the page from the murder log where she had found the case recorded. The other page was just a few notes from the anonymous call she had received. Bosch read this page first.
7/20/12—anon.
male—40s?
vic: “Billy” 1991–95 Hollywood—stabbed
“Patrick Sewell killed that boy.”
That was it. Bosch looked up at Emily and smiled.
“You know, maybe next time you get one of these, you should transfer it down here,” he said. “This doesn’t sound like a family member. This is a tip and it should’ve gone to the tip line, where officers take the info and can ask questions, or if it’s an old case like this, just transfer it down here.”
She nodded.
“I know, I know. I tried to put him on hold so I could transfer the call and he said he wouldn’t hold. He said, ‘I told you all I have to say,’ and then he hung up.”
Bosch frowned.
“And you think you got the name right?”
“I think so. He said it twice. He said, ‘Patrick Sewell killed that boy. Patrick Sewell.’”
“Okay. So he gave the suspect’s full name twice but only a partial on the victim’s. Just Billy.”
“Right. And there were a lot of murders in the nineties. I started looking through them all until I saw the name. They didn’t know who it was at first, then they updated it with the name. William Ratliff. I think this is the case. I didn’t find any other unsolved cases in the Hollywood area with a victim named Billy or William.”
Bosch nodded again and looked back down at the file to read the entries on the log page.
187 W/M 20s—08:40 2/9/92—1628 N. Vine
R/O Whitcomb (6A67) called to scene by city building inspector Oscar Reyes. Victim in abandoned/burned restaurant (Brown Derby). Victim stabbed multiple times torso/c. Wrists bound behind back. Victim naked. Hollywood 187—Rodgers/Quinlan.
Bosch knew that the famed Old Hollywood restaurant where the body had been found had been destroyed during the 1992 riots. It stood partially intact afterward but was abandoned except by the homeless for almost another two years before being leveled and turned into a parking lot.
Bosch distantly remembered the murder as the Brown Derby case. This was not because of any involvement on his part in the investigation in 1992 but because he had reviewed the stored evidence and case records—contained in a binder called a murder book—when he was assigned to the Open-Unsolved Unit and given responsibility for the year 1992. He rated the cases he reviewed on a scale of one to five, with a five designation meaning there was highly viable forensic evidence that could be followed up on. But his memory at the moment was that he had rated the Brown Derby case a one or a two after he ran fingerprints collected at the crime scene and got no matches in the data banks, where millions of prints were stored. He didn’t recall there being any DNA or other evidence worth pursuing using modern technology and science.
Below the initial entry was a short second paragraph added to the log by Homicide detectives Rodgers and Quinlan after an initial assessment of the case and
She waited to come to Bosch last. She had one file left in her hand when she arrived at his cubicle.
“Good morning, Detective Bosch.”
“Good morning, Emily. When are you going to start calling me Harry?”
“I’m sorry. I always forget. Harry.”
She nodded, as if trying the name out and seeing if it worked.
“What do you have there?”
She handed him the green file.
“There is not a lot in there. This one was anonymous—came in yesterday. He didn’t say much but I was able to find the case. Nineteen ninety-two. One of your years.”
“Sure is.”
Bosch opened the file. It contained only two sheets of paper. One was a photocopy of the page from the murder log where she had found the case recorded. The other page was just a few notes from the anonymous call she had received. Bosch read this page first.
7/20/12—anon.
male—40s?
vic: “Billy” 1991–95 Hollywood—stabbed
“Patrick Sewell killed that boy.”
That was it. Bosch looked up at Emily and smiled.
“You know, maybe next time you get one of these, you should transfer it down here,” he said. “This doesn’t sound like a family member. This is a tip and it should’ve gone to the tip line, where officers take the info and can ask questions, or if it’s an old case like this, just transfer it down here.”
She nodded.
“I know, I know. I tried to put him on hold so I could transfer the call and he said he wouldn’t hold. He said, ‘I told you all I have to say,’ and then he hung up.”
Bosch frowned.
“And you think you got the name right?”
“I think so. He said it twice. He said, ‘Patrick Sewell killed that boy. Patrick Sewell.’”
“Okay. So he gave the suspect’s full name twice but only a partial on the victim’s. Just Billy.”
“Right. And there were a lot of murders in the nineties. I started looking through them all until I saw the name. They didn’t know who it was at first, then they updated it with the name. William Ratliff. I think this is the case. I didn’t find any other unsolved cases in the Hollywood area with a victim named Billy or William.”
Bosch nodded again and looked back down at the file to read the entries on the log page.
187 W/M 20s—08:40 2/9/92—1628 N. Vine
R/O Whitcomb (6A67) called to scene by city building inspector Oscar Reyes. Victim in abandoned/burned restaurant (Brown Derby). Victim stabbed multiple times torso/c. Wrists bound behind back. Victim naked. Hollywood 187—Rodgers/Quinlan.
Bosch knew that the famed Old Hollywood restaurant where the body had been found had been destroyed during the 1992 riots. It stood partially intact afterward but was abandoned except by the homeless for almost another two years before being leveled and turned into a parking lot.
Bosch distantly remembered the murder as the Brown Derby case. This was not because of any involvement on his part in the investigation in 1992 but because he had reviewed the stored evidence and case records—contained in a binder called a murder book—when he was assigned to the Open-Unsolved Unit and given responsibility for the year 1992. He rated the cases he reviewed on a scale of one to five, with a five designation meaning there was highly viable forensic evidence that could be followed up on. But his memory at the moment was that he had rated the Brown Derby case a one or a two after he ran fingerprints collected at the crime scene and got no matches in the data banks, where millions of prints were stored. He didn’t recall there being any DNA or other evidence worth pursuing using modern technology and science.
Below the initial entry was a short second paragraph added to the log by Homicide detectives Rodgers and Quinlan after an initial assessment of the case and
Similar Books
