A Darkness More Than Night - Michael Connelly [62]
“Good afternoon, Detective Bosch,” she began. “Could you please tell the jury a bit about your career as a police officer.”
Bosch cleared his throat.
“Yes. I’ve been with the Los Angeles Police Department twenty-eight years. I have spent more than half of that time investigating homicides. I am a detective three assigned to the homicide squad of the Hollywood Division.”
“What does ‘detective three’ mean?”
“It means detective third grade. It is the highest detective rank, equivalent to sergeant, but there are no detective sergeants in the LAPD. From detective three the next rank up would be detective lieutenant.”
“How many homicides would you say you have investigated in your career?”
“I don’t keep track. I would say at least a few hundred in fifteen years.”
“A few hundred.”
Langwiser looked over at the jury when she stressed the last word.
“Give or take a few.”
“And as a detective three you are currently a supervisor on the homicide squad?”
“I have some supervisory duties. I am also the lead officer on a three-person team that handles homicide investigations.”
“As such you were in charge of the team that was called to the scene of a homicide on October thirteenth of last year, correct?”
“That is correct.”
Bosch glanced over at the defense table. David Storey had his head down and was using his felt tip pen to draw on the sketch pad. He’d been doing it since jury selection began. Bosch’s eyes traveled to the defendant’s attorney and locked on those of J. Reason Fowkkes. Bosch held the stare until Langwiser asked her next question.
“This was the murder of Donatella Speers?”
Bosch looked back over at Langwiser.
“Correct. That was the name she used.”
“It was not her real name?”
“It was her stage name, I guess you would call it. She was an actress. She changed her name. Her real name was Jody Krementz.”
The judge interrupted and asked Bosch to spell the names for the court reporter, then Langwiser continued.
“Tell us the circumstances of the call out. Walk us through it, Detective Bosch. Where were you, what were you doing, how did this become your case?”
Bosch cleared his throat and had reached to the microphone to pull it closer when he remembered what happened the last time. He left the microphone where it was and leaned forward to it.
“My two partners and I were eating lunch at a restaurant called Musso and Frank’s on Hollywood Boulevard. It was Friday and we usually eat there if we have the time. At eleven forty-eight my pager went off. I recognized the number as belonging to my supervisor, Lieutenant Grace Billets. While I was calling her, the pagers of my partners, Jerry Edgar and Kizmin Rider, also went off. At that point we knew we had probably drawn a case. I got ahold of Lieutenant Billets and she directed my team to one-thousand-one Nichols Canyon Road, where patrol officers had earlier responded along with paramedics to an emergency call at that location. They reported a young woman was found dead in her bed under suspicious circumstances.”
“You then went to the address?”
“No. I had driven all three of us to Musso’s. So I drove back to the Hollywood station, which is a few blocks away, and dropped off my partners so they could get their own vehicles. Then all three of us proceeded separately to the address. You never know where you might have to go from a crime scene. It’s good procedure for each detective to have his or her own car.”
“At this time did you know who the victim was or what the suspicious circumstances of her death were?”
“No, I did not.”
“What did you find when you got there?”
“It was