Page 27 of Resurrection Walk

Barnett:Okay, this is over. You’re under arrest for the murder of Roberto Sanz. Please —

Sanz:No, I didn’t.

Barnett:Stand up now. We’re going to book you. And your lawyer will come see you.

I put the transcript aside and looked out the window. The freeway was elevated out here and I could see the tops of businesses and signs on poles high enough to be seen by the people in cars speeding by. I was angry. I had yet to meet Lucinda Sanz but I could tell she was unsophisticated in the ways of the police, despite having been married to a law officer. She’d tried to hold her own during the interview. She’d denied killing her ex. But she’d also given them many of the things they needed to make a case against her. She had talked herself through the gates.

“These guys…” I said. “Not very original.”

“Who?” Bosch asked.

“The interviewers, Samuels and Barnett.”

“How so?”

“Just leading her down the garden path with lies and false empathy. The old we-can-work-this-out routine. Just makes me mad.”

“You’d be surprised how often that works. Most killers… they want to be understood.”

“And they talk themselves right into jail.”

“What did they lie to her about?”

“More like what didn’t they lie to her about. But for starters they ran the GSR game on her. She didn’t bite.”

“Not sure that was a game if they told her she tested positive.”

“It better be or we have a problem with this whole innocence thing. Why don’t you think they were gaming her?”

“It was in one of the newspaper stories I read. Back when I was… well, we usually didn’t put our lies in the press releases. So I figure that part is true. She tested positive for GSR.”

“Get off at the next exit.”

“Why?”

“We’re turning around. I’ve wasted enough time on this.”

“Because of GSR?”

“I’m looking for habeas cases. I told you that, Harry. If she had gunshot residue on her hands, then we’re fucked.”

“GSR is not an exact science. I had cases… the lawyers brought in experts with whole lists of household products they claimed would pull the same result on the swipe pad.”

“Yeah, that was the inexact-science defense. A desperate move to sow doubt with a jury that won’t get us through the courtroom door on a habeas petition.”

“Look, we’re only ten minutes away from Chino. Let’s just go talk to her.”

I looked down at the transcript again and shook my head. I was changing my opinion of Second-Place Silver. Maybe he had gotten Lucinda Sanz the best outcome possible.

“Look,” I said, “just so we’re clear. Her appellate window would have closed at least two years ago. The only way back into this case is through a habeas petition offering new evidence that supports actual innocence. Then, by the way, we have to put up or shut up. We have to prove her innocent, like we did with Ochoa. So, fine, we can eat our po’ boys and then go in and talk to her. But if it’s not there, we’re done with this one and we’ll move on to the next.”

Bosch said nothing. I waited for his eyes to show in the rearview.

“So we’re cool?” I said.

“Totally,” Bosch said. “We’re cool.”

10

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