Page 67 of Resurrection Walk

“Same as Mickey. This could be beneficial to them as well.”

Bosch had always been suspicious of science and technology. Not that he didn’t believe that the advances made were good for the world, but he had a detective’s suspicion about early adopters and didn’t buy into the cult-like belief that all scientific discoveries were beneficial. He knew this put him on the outside looking in, an analog man in a digital world, but his instincts had always served him well. For every great technological advancement, there were always people out there looking to misuse it.

“I’ll think about it,” he said. “Thanks for the offer.”

“Anytime,” Arslanian said.

They rode in silence most of the way downtown. It became awkward and Bosch tried to come up with something to say.

“So,” he finally managed. “What have you been doing with the computer there?”

“Just plugging the data into the re-creation program,” Arslanian said. “It will do the work and then in court it will be my job to show and tell. Like it is for you, this is new stuff for juries.”

“We’ll just have a judge making the call on a habeas. No jury.”

“Same thing. Judges need to be schooled too.”

“I’m sure you’ll be a good teacher.”

“Thanks. I’m in the process of patenting the program.”

“I’m sure prosecutors and defense attorneys all over the country will be jumping on this.”

“That’s why I need to protect it. Not to keep them from using it but to protect the investment of time, money, and research my partner at MIT and I put into it.”

Bosch pulled into the entrance tunnel of the Conrad hotel and lowered his window to tell the valet who rushed up that he was just dropping off his passenger.

“Thank you, Harry,” Arslanian said. “I enjoyed our conversation and I hope you think about precision medicine.”

Her door was opened by the helpful valet and she got out.

“I guess I’ll see you in court,” Bosch said.

“I’ll be there,” Arslanian said.

The valet unloaded Arslanian’s equipment from the back seat and Bosch pulled out into traffic. He wished he had said more to her, maybe asked if she wanted to get dinner. He felt embarrassed. As old as he was, he still hesitated to pull the trigger on matters of the heart.

23

THE SHIFT BOSSat the prison denied Bosch’s request for an attorney-client meeting room because Bosch was not an attorney. He had to make a regular visitation request and then wait two hours before he heard his name called over a loudspeaker. He was ushered to a stool in front of a thick plexiglass window in a long line of stools and visitation booths very similar to the setup at Corcoran. The wait for Lucinda Sanz wasn’t long after that. They both took their phones off the hooks and spoke.

“Hello, Mr. Bosch.”

“Hello, Cindi. Call me Harry.”

“Okay, Harry. Is it over?”

“Is what over?”

“Did the judge turn Mr. Haller down?”

“Oh. No, nothing’s over. The hearing is happening. It’s this coming Monday. They’ll be transporting you to the city for it.”

Bosch saw a little bit of life return to her eyes. She had been prepared for the worst.

“I’m here because I want to show you some photos,” he said. “Remember you told us that it was a female deputy who wiped your hands and arms for gunshot residue?”

“Yes, a woman,” Lucinda said.

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