City Of Bones

headed out, carrying the first-aid kit with him. Bosch went behind the desk and sat down. The dog was on the ground next to the chair. The animal looked up and seemed startled when she saw Bosch in the master’s spot.
    “Calamity,” he said. “I think you lived up to your name today, girl.”
    Bosch reached down and rubbed the scruff of the dog’s neck. The dog growled and he quickly took his hand away, wondering if it was the dog’s training or something about himself that had caused the hostile response.
    He picked up the phone and called the home of his supervisor, Lt. Grace Billets. He explained what had happened on Wonderland Avenue and his findings up on the hill.
    “Harry, how old do these bones look?” Billets asked.
    Bosch looked at the Polaroid he had taken of the small bones he had found in the dirt. It was a bad photo, the flash overexposing it because he was too close.
    “I don’t know, they look old to me. I’d say we’re talking years here.”
    “Okay, so whatever’s there at the scene isn’t fresh.”
    “Maybe freshly uncovered, but no, it’s been there.”
    “That’s what I’m saying. So I think we should stick a pin in it and gear up for tomorrow. Whatever is up there on that hill, it’s not going anywhere tonight.”
    “Yeah,” Bosch said. “I’m thinking the same thing.”
    She was silent a moment before speaking.
    “These kind of cases, Harry…”
    “What?”
    “They drain the budget, they drain manpower… and they’re the hardest to close, if you can close them.”
    “Okay, I’ll climb back up there and cover the bones up. I’ll tell the doctor to keep his dog on a leash.”
    “Come on, Harry, you know what I mean.” She exhaled loudly. “First day of the year and we’re going to start in the hole.”
    Bosch was silent, letting her work through her administrative frustrations. It didn’t take long. It was one of the things he liked about her.
    “Okay, anything else happen today?”
    “Not too much. A couple suicides, that’s it so far.”
    “Okay, when are you going to start tomorrow?”
    “I’d like to get out there early. I’ll make some calls and see what I can get going. And get the bone the dog found confirmed before we start anything.”
    “Okay, let me know.”
    Bosch agreed and hung up the phone. He next called Teresa Corazon, the county medical examiner, at home. Though their relationship outside of work had ended years before and she had moved at least two times since, she had always kept the same number and Bosch knew it by heart. It came in handy now. He explained what he had going and that he needed an official confirmation of the bone as human before he set other things in motion. He also told her that if it was confirmed he would need an archeological team to work the crime scene as soon as possible.
    Corazon put him on hold for almost five minutes.
    “Okay,” she said when she came back on the line. “I couldn’t get Kathy Kohl. She’s not home.”
    Bosch knew that Kohl was the staff archeologist. Her real expertise and reason for her inclusion as a full-time employee was retrieving bones from the body dump sites up in the desert of the north county, which was a weekly occurrence. But Bosch knew she would be called in to handle the search for bones off Wonderland Avenue.
    “So what do you want me to do? I want to get this confirmed tonight.”
    “Just hold your horses, Harry. You are always so impatient. You’re like a dog with a bone, no pun intended.”
    “It’s a kid, Teresa. Can we be serious?”
    “Just come here. I’ll look at this bone.”
    “And what about tomorrow?”
    “I’ll get things in motion. I left a message for Kathy and as soon as we hang up here I’ll call the office and have her paged. She’ll head up the dig as soon as the sun is up and we can get in there. Once the bones are recovered, there is a forensic anthropologist at UCLA we have on retainer and I can bring him in if he’s in town. And I’ll be there myself. Are you satisfied?”
    This last part gave Bosch pause.
    “Teresa,” he finally said, “I want to try to keep this as low profile as I can for as long as I can.”
    “And what are you implying?”
    “That I’m not sure that the medical examiner for Los Angeles County needs to be there. And that I haven’t seen you at a crime scene without a cameraman in tow for a long time.”
    “Harry, he is a private videographer, okay? The film he takes is for future use by me and