Echo Park

partner did the search. But I gotta tell you, I was over in the neighborhood right before I called you today. I didn’t see any castle.”
    She shook her head.
    “Don’t take everything so literally,” she said.
    “Well, there’s still a big question about the Reynard stuff,” he said.
    “Which is?”
    “Did you look at the booking sheet in the file? He wouldn’t talk to Olivas and his partner but he did answer the protocol questions at the jail when he was booked. He listed his education level as high school. No higher education. I mean, look, the guy’s a window washer. How would he even know about this medieval fox?”
    “I don’t know. But as I said, the character has popped up repeatedly in all cultures. Children’s books, television shows, there are any number of ways the character could have made an impact on this man. And don’t underestimate this man’s intelligence because he washed windows for a living. He owned and operated a business. That is significant in terms of showing some of his capabilities. The fact that he operated as a killer with impunity for so long is another strong indicator of intelligence.”
    Bosch wasn’t completely convinced. He fired off another question that would take her in a new direction.
    “How do the first two fit in? He went from public spectacle with the riots and then a big media splash with Marie Gesto to, as you say, diving completely beneath the surface.”
    “Every serial killer’s MO changes. The simple answer is that he was on a learning curve. I think the first killing—with the male victim—was an opportunity killing. Like a spree killing. He had thought about killing for a long time but wasn’t sure he could do it. He found himself in a situation—the chaos of the riots—where he could test himself. It was an opportunity to see if he could actually kill someone and then get away with it. The sex of the victim was not important. The identity of the victim was not important. At that moment he just wanted to find out if he could do it and almost any victim would do.”
    Bosch could see that. He nodded.
    “So he did,” he said. “And then we come to Marie Gesto. He picks a victim who draws the police and the media’s attention.”
    “He was still learning, forming,” she said. “He knew he could kill and now he wanted to go out and hunt. She was his first victim. She crossed his path, something about her fit his fantasy program and she simply became prey. At that time his focus was on victim acquisition and self-protection. In that case he chose badly. He chose a woman who would be sorely missed and whose disappearance would draw an immediate response. He probably didn’t know this going into it. But he learned from it, from the heat he brought upon himself.”
    Bosch nodded.
    “Anyway, after Gesto he learned to add a third element to his focus: victim backgrounding. He made sure that he chose victims who not only met the needs of his program but who would also come from a societal fringe, where their comings and goings would not be cause for notice, let alone alarm.”
    “And he went beneath the surface.”
    “Exactly. He went under and he stayed there. Until we got lucky in Echo Park.”
    Bosch nodded. All of this was helpful.
    “It makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” he asked. “About how many of these guys are out there. The under-the-surface killers.”
    Walling nodded.
    “Yes. Sometimes it scares me to death. Makes me wonder how long this guy would have gone on killing if we hadn’t gotten so lucky.”
    She checked her notes and said nothing further.
    “Is that all you’ve got?” Bosch asked.
    Walling looked up at him sharply and he realized he had chosen his words poorly.
    “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said quickly. “This is all great and it’s going to help me a lot. I just meant is there anything else you wanted to talk about?”
    She held his eyes for a moment before replying.
    “Yes, there is something else. It’s not about this, though.”
    “Then, what is it?”
    “You’ve got to give yourself a break on that phone call, Harry. You can’t let that bring you down. The work ahead is too important.”
    Bosch nodded insincerely. It was easy for her to say that. She wouldn’t have to live with the ghosts of all the women Raynard Waits would begin to tell them about the next morning.
    “Don’t just nod it off like that,” Rachel said. “Do you know how many cases I worked in Behavioral where the